Hiding in the inner branches of the tree of life is the humble spiritual fruit of patience. In a list of virtues, it never gets headline billing alongside love or faith; nor is it much appreciated in the frenetic world around us. But I am increasingly convinced that there are few qualities more critical to cultivate for our lifelong walk of faith.

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Raising four young children has made me only too aware that patience is not inherent.  ‘How many minutes until we get to Grandma’s?’, ‘How long until dinner?’, and ‘When will it be my turn?’ arise in near-constant chorus as soon as little ones progress past wordless crying. Sitting still, whether at church or in a doctor’s office, is often learned at great effort. But learn we must, and most kids do – at least well enough to be functional citizens who can queue at the post office.

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Even still, the adult world does not place a great deal of value on ‘longsuffering’ as the King James Version calls it. It’s the early adopters and quick movers who seem to reap significant advantages in wealth and career. Songs have to grab your ear in the first ten seconds to avoid being skipped over, and AI software cheerfully offers to summarise any document more than a page long.

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Certainly, the idea of being patient under trial is not a popular one even for Christians. Self-protective ‘freedom of religion’ rates quite highly in our collective priorities for something that barely rates a mention in the New Testament. James urges us to joyfully greet our inevitable trials as providential periods of growth in patience (James 1:2–4). The believer who can bear up under ill-treatment without caving in to bitterness or rage is one of the brightest lights witnessing the sufficiency of Christ to a dark world.

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Another reason it is critical to pursue patience is that sanctification is not instantaneous. When we are baptised into Christ we are a new creation, but the process of transforming us into His image with ever-increasing glory takes the rest of our life (2 Corinthians 3:18). How wonderful it would be for the newborn in Christ to instantly be the perfect husband or the model employee! Alas, it is not so, and confronting this reality requires us to develop patience for ourselves, and for our brethren.

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However, the reason I’m increasingly convinced of the centrality of patience is not rooted in being an upstanding citizen. It’s not even about being reviled without reviling in return (1 Peter 2:23), or the torpid pace of sanctification. It’s because in a broken, sinful world, justice and righteousness are often on the losing side. Our peacemaking does not end war; our sobriety does not end drunkenness; our compassion does not end abuse. The characteristics Jesus urges His followers to exemplify are received by the world as pitiful, enraging, or just plain odd.

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These less-than-optimal outcomes do not result from our less-than-perfect efforts. Even Jesus, though He was Prince of Peace, came to bring a sword, pitting mother against daughter and father against son. This conflict arose not from his own aggression but the sin-filled pushback of a world that didn’t want a bar of His message. Why should we think that the efforts of disciples would be more successful than those of the Master? The reality is that if you are generous, you will often be taken advantage of; if you are humble, the proud will waltz right past you. And yet Christ insists that his followers exemplify these qualities.

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Mature Christian patience is eschatological at its core. It is anchored in the hope of a resurrection where ‘death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain any more, for the former things have passed away.’ (Revelation 21:4) It assures us that growing in virtue is worthwhile, even against the evidence of our own eyes.

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‘How long, O Lord?’, cry the souls of the martyrs in Revelation 6. ‘How long before you will judge and avenge our blood on those who dwell on the earth?’

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‘A little longer.’