This would not be so bad if I did not permit apples into the mix.
We try, really we do, to throw out the cores the day the apples are eaten. But, invariably, one gets lost in the shuffle of five antsy bodies in and out the door (baby is too young for culpability in this case), and we find that lost apple on Saturday, crushed into a corner, mushy and brown. The apple as a symbol of original sin is very meaningful to my family for this reason.
When we visited an apple orchard this fall, a huge mother pig and her grunting progeny were wandering the grounds, full snout ahead in the sea of fallen red globes. I reflected at the time that I would like to make my piggies eat their garbage, too. I also duly noted that I would hate to have the same standard imposed on myself.
Alas, my little piggies are just like their mother. I love to read far more than I love to clean, and they have inherited my tendency to sloth amidst the literature. As I shepherd them through their daily chores and studies, I fight constantly my own tendency to overlook my chores, and my duties. There are a hundred better things I can think of to do than household drudgeries, and my kids all know that if they procrastinate, I will likely overlook their failures in the same arena and just do it myself so I can get back to my book. Hello, original sin.
Advent reminds us that God is good, and He created the world and mankind to share in His goodness. Original sin encourages us to make choices based not upon a prayerful reception of God’s will, but upon our own selfish appraisal of the subjective pros and cons. Even and especially in the case of competing goods (good literature vs. domestic tranquility), we are obliged to attend to our vocational duties first … and to avoid sin at all costs.
God created us from His own fruitfulness. Like the bounteous apples on the branches of the apple trees, God has designed us to showcase the goodness, beauty and truth of His creation. And like the apples, when our fruits are mushed by the effects of sin, our lives turn oozy and uncomfortable. When we manage to offer God a fully red and ripe offering, we are showcasing love and beauty for our neighbors and planting the seeds of more fruit.
Fruitfulness requires not only an awareness of our necessary duties, but also a willingness to perform those roles regardless of our personal desires and opinions. Original sin impedes our fruitfulness by questioning our duty to serve God first and foremost. Be honest! Most of the time, we cling to our own desires and opinions because they “make sense” to us. Rarely do we ask if our desires and commitments make sense to God, let alone anyone else. Did an infant Messiah make sense?
The Blessed Virgin Mary is particularly instructive as we contemplate turning our lives over to Baby Jesus. God created each person with a particular task or role to fulfill, and the gifts and talents necessary to that task. God prepared the Virgin for her place in His Kingdom, and He will do the same for us, provided that we say “Yes” to His plan.
In a very real sense, every Christian is called to be a “Theotokos” — a Bearer of God — in just the same way as Mary. The fruit we are called upon to shower upon the world may be physical, emotional, spiritual or intellectual. Just as we receive the grace to live out our assent, so too do we find God's fruitfulness in our lives a marvel to behold. “The Lord has done great things for me, and holy is His name” (Lk 1:49).
Our once barren Christmas tree is covered with apples this week, symbolizing how original sin stole paradise from the human race. As I watch my children decorating, filled with excitement and joy, I admit to myself that inside my brown, mushy exterior, there are still seeds of hope and joy within — fruit born of the prayers and charity of other Christians. And that is indeed cause for rejoicing.
