In most agricultural cultures, the harvest is considered a time of culmination, an evidence that the soil, seed and season worked in harmony to produce something nourishing. It is a time to gather, to reflect and to celebrate the result of labor. But what if the harvest season arrives, the fields look full yet there are no fruit? When activity is high but the outcome is hollow?
This unsettling picture of a “harvest without fruit” can serve as a mirror for contexts like Nagaland. On the surface, religious life appears vibrant: churches are active, events are frequent and the Christian label is widely worn.
But beneath this surface, critical questions persist. Are these structures producing moral transformation? Are they fostering a just and responsible society? Are we witnessing a deep and long-term impact on how people live, lead and relate?
Visibility without impact
One of the more common assumptions in religious circles is that visible growth-attendance numbers, financial reports and construction projects reflects spiritual health. This has led many communities to associate busyness with effectiveness. But a closer look often reveals a different picture.
In our context, for instance, the sheer volume of religious activity- Sunday services, youth fellowships, mission trips and conferences can create an illusion of fruitfulness.
However, parallel indicators tell a more sobering story: rising substance abuse among youth, fractured trust in public leadership, deepening social divisions and widespread ethical inconsistency. The question is not whether programs exist but whether they lead to measurable change.
Does increased exposure to church life translate into better integrity in public offices? Does religious identity influence how we treat others across tribal, gender or economic lines? If the answers are ambiguous or negative, then the systems require re-evaluation. The harvest, no matter how large the field cannot be called successful if it does not feed the people.
Shallow roots in a culture of rapid conversion
While conversion events are frequently celebrated, long-term character formation receives less sustained attention.
This imbalance results in communities that identify as Christian but struggle to live according to core Christian values in forms of truthfulness, self-control, compassion and justice.
Spiritual maturity is not a by-product of church attendance. It is cultivated through intentional relationships, mentorship, accountability and practical teaching.
Unfortunately, such long-term investment is often missing in fast-paced religious environments. Sermons are abundant but real-life application is often absent.
The youth, in particular, feel the effects. Many grow up within Christian settings but receive minimal guidance in connecting faith to real-world responsibilities.
They are taught how to participate in church events but not how to handle ethical dilemmas, leadership challenges or vocational integrity. A harvest that lacks depth in its roots will always disappoint in its fruits. Lasting impact cannot be outsourced to events; it must be embedded in daily, formative practices.
Performance culture in the age of public religion
The advent of digital platforms has amplified the visibility of religious life. Worship services are live-streamed and spiritual expressions are increasingly curated for public consumption.
While these tools can broaden access, they also pose risks. When religious expression becomes performative, it prioritizes applause over authenticity. It becomes more about how faith looks than how it lives.
This dynamic can be seen in polished sermons that avoid difficult topics, worship sessions that focus on emotional highs and leaders who cultivate public personas but lack private integrity.
This culture of performance creates fatigue for believers and confusion for observers. It undermines the credibility of faith institutions and contributes to public cynicism.
Young people, in particular, are sensitive to this dissonance. Many are not rejecting faith itself but the way it is often packaged and performed. A community grounded in performance will eventually run dry. True fruit cannot be staged, it must grow organically through transparency, humility and sustained relationships.
Neglect of ethical engagement in social spaces
Another reason for a fruitless harvest is the disconnect between religious life and public ethics. Many churches focus on personal salvation but hesitate to engage broader societal issues.
As a result, conversations around justice, equity, gender rights and public accountability are often left to civil society or ignored altogether. However, faith without public consequence is incomplete. Historically, Christian movements have played central roles in education, healthcare, anti-slavery campaigns and democratic reforms.
In Nagaland, there is still great potential for churches to act as catalysts for civic renewal but this requires courage and clarity. The silence of religious voices on critical issues such as corruption, tribalism, environmental degradation or gender-based violence is often interpreted as complicity. And in some cases, religious language is used to justify harmful status quos or protect elite interests.
When religious institutions avoid ethical confrontation, they forfeit their prophetic role in society. The result is a culture of religiosity that appears fruitful but lacks substance- spiritual in language but silent in action.
Avoidance of institutional accountability
The final issue undermining meaningful fruit is the reluctance to engage in honest self-assessment. Many faith-based institutions prioritize image preservation over introspection.
Criticism is viewed as disloyalty and whistle-blowers are silenced rather than heard. Without mechanisms for accountability- financial transparency, leadership evaluation, grievance redressal, and member participation- institutions drift into stagnation.
The gap between public perception and internal reality grows. Trust erodes. Moreover, a refusal to acknowledge failure robs communities of the chance to grow. Mistakes, when faced honestly can become turning points for institutional maturity. But when buried, they become seeds of long-term dysfunction.
The biblical principle of pruning is relevant here. Healthy growth often requires trimming and removing what is unproductive to make space for what is essential. Without this process, even the most impressive trees will eventually bear no fruit.
Reframing the vision of fruitfulness
To move forward constructively, faith communities must reclaim a holistic understanding of harvest. In this framework, fruit is not measured merely by numbers or visibility. It includes: The alignment of belief and behavior across personal, professional, and political life.
Tangible contributions to justice, equity, education and peace. Equipping young people with tools for thoughtful and responsible citizenship rooted in spiritual values. Accountability structures that ensure integrity at every level of governance. Encouraging members to see faith as relevant to every sphere- business, politics, media and education- not just the church pew. In such a vision, success is not flashy but sustainable. It is not immediate but enduring.
A call for renewal
The image of a fruitless harvest is not meant to induce guilt but to prompt reflection. It is a chance to ask: what are we growing, really? Are we cultivating appearances or nurturing deep-rooted change? Are we satisfied with routine or are we willing to reimagine the future? For Nagaland, this is a strategic moment.
The spiritual foundation is already strong. What is needed now is a commitment to renewal, to integrity, relevance and courage. Churches must partner with civil society, invest in the next generation and model transparency from the inside out.
Above all, fruitfulness must be defined not by how we appear on a Sunday morning but by how we function the rest of the week. Do our systems protect the vulnerable? Do our leaders walk the talk? Do our institutions serve the public good? If not, then perhaps the harvest we’ve celebrated has been premature.
But the good news is the soil can be tilled again and the seeds of change can still be planted.
Dr. Bendangliba
Andrew
Mokokchung
Wednesday, July 16, 2025