Huge, succulent grapes. Asian pears the size of grapefruits. Melons with delicate yet distinctive fragrances wafting in the air. Perfectly ripe papayas with deep orange flesh. Juice oranges with paper-thin rind. Crisp, sweet jujubes the size of hen's eggs. Strange, exotic looking dragonfruit. Wax apples (they're not apples and there's no wax, and I've never seen one in the United States), guava...I was in a fruit-lover's heaven, being virtually paralyzed by the immense choices at a large fruit market in Taiwan. I happened to pass by the market a couple of winters ago while visiting my mother in Taoyuan, Taiwan. Since I do not travel there much, I wanted to buy some of the local offerings that are rare in my present home near Los Angeles, California. I picked several large jujubes, a few wax apples (not too many, as they were kind of expensive), a large dragonfruit, some of the local orange varieties, and a small papaya. I could get more, but the collection was already feeling a bit heavy, and my mother's apartment was at least a ten-minute walk away. It was time to complete the purchase.
As I brought the basket of fruit to the cash register, a cluster of odd looking artichoke-like lumps caught my eye. Known locally as "Buddha head" fruit (or custard apple in English), they are about the size, shape, and color of large green avocados, with hard, coarse, paneled rind that resembles crocodile skin or a pangolin's plated armor. I remembered eating them years ago, and recalled that they were really tasty. I picked one up to inspect it, and was instantly disappointed by its hard texture. They weren't edible.
At least not right away.
The man at the register told me that the Buddha heads were not ripe yet, but they were on sale, and that they would ripen in about two to three days if they were wrapped in newspaper and placed in a warm place, say, near the refrigerator vent or behind the computer monitor. I was a bit skeptical that something as hard as a hand grenade would actually ripen that quickly, but since I was planning to stay a few more days in Taiwan, I took a chance and brought home two of the Buddha heads.
I spent the next couple of days enjoying as much fruit as my intestines would allow, and before long, I was down to the last couple of oranges and wax apples, and the two Buddha heads that I left behind the television. I removed one of the Buddha heads, and was immediately greeted with the intense aroma of ripe fruit. I pushed one of the armor-like plates on the surface, and noted that it collapsed into the body of the fruit with very little pressure. I peeled the loosened plate with the attached fruit, revealing creamy, succulent, sweet flesh. The entire fruit was reduced within minutes to a pile of peel and seed. The second fruit experienced the same fate the next day. They were delicious, just like I remembered.
Like the Buddha head fruits, Christians also need ripening before the fruit of our conversion releases its sweet aroma. Unbelievers tend to accuse Christians of being hypocrites because we often fail to demonstrate the love of Christ, joy, peace, patience, kindness, etc., that the world expects of us. Instead of sweetness and fragrance, we come across as being hard, cold and bitter, because we still struggle with our old, sinful nature. Thankfully, we are promised that if we have been regenerated by the Holy Spirit, we will be ripened into good fruit.
And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ. (Philippians 1:6)
Therefore, my beloved, as you have always obeyed, so now, not only as in my presence but much more in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure. (Philippians 2:12-13)
May each day in our lives be a day of ripening that leads us to become a sweet aroma before the Lord, in His time.
