Being a Branch

John 15:1-8

April 28, 2024 • Mount Pleasant UMC

I think I have probably told you about my brief career as a vintner. In my previous appointment, the parsonage had a grapevine in the backyard. The previous pastor had planted it but moved before the vine produced any grapes, and so I was kind of excited about having grapes grow in my backyard. I envisioned making communion juice and maybe even having my own Welch’s enterprise—but none of that was to be because this stubborn grapevine was very good at producing vines and nothing else. So I started reading about vines and found out something all good vintners know—in order to produce grapes, the vines have to be trimmed, pruned, so that they will stop wasting energy producing vines and put that energy into growing grapes (cf. Wright, John for Everyone—Part Two, pg. 69). Pruning the vines also helps them grow toward the light, which they need if they are going to produce high quality grapes. Okay, pruning, I am good at cutting things off, so I started to prune my vines. And still, nothing. Absolutely nothing! Well, there were lots of vines but not a single grape. So I got frustrated and I cut the whole vine out. If it wasn’t going to produce grapes, what good was it? I cut it down to the ground. And then I left on a trip. And what do you think happened while I was gone? The vine came back and not just with a shoot like we talked about last week. It came back with a vengeance and for the rest of the time I lived in that house, I had a wonderfully healthy-looking green vine covering the fence. But not a single grape.

If you remember, we’ve been looking at some of the trees in the Bible where significant events took place or where significant decisions are being made. As I shared a few weeks ago, “Every significant theological event in the Bible is marked by a tree” (Sleeth qtd. in Armstrong, Sticks, pg. 1). We’ve been near several Old Testament trees, but this morning we’re moving into the New Testament to look at a tree described by Jesus. And while there is certainly a much more prominent tree in the Gospels, namely the one upon which Jesus was crucified, I want to back up in that story just a bit and look at a tree or plant that might sometimes get overlooked because it rests in the shadow of the cross. And yet, it is a place where God’s people have to make hard choices about the kind of people we want to be (cf. Armstrong 104).

The setting is this: it is Thursday night, the last night before the crucifixion, and Jesus has just finished his final meal with his friends, his followers, his disciples. That meal was a Passover meal, so it had a lot of significance for them because Passover is one of the highest, holiest days for the Jews. Jesus has already hit them with some hard things on this night. He washed their feet and told them they should do the same to others. He challenged them to find ways to love each other, even as they are arguing about which one of them is the greatest. He has told them (again) he will be leaving them, but he has also promised the arrival of the Holy Spirit to teach them and comfort them. Then, probably pretty late that night, they leave the room they had borrowed to have dinner in and head out toward the Kidron Valley that runs alongside the Temple Mount. They don’t actually cross the Valley until chapter 18, so this is a slow walk, an amble maybe with lots of stops and starts, and even the way John has written down Jesus’ teaching has the feeling of a disjointed walk in the dark. Jesus repeats himself, he doubles back, yet his voice is filled with urgency (cf. Card, John: The Gospel of Wisdom, pg. 167). He desperately wants them to “get it,” and he knows this is his last chance. Tomorrow will be too late. If they are to understand anything he has told them over the last three years, it has to be tonight.

As they walked, they likely passed underneath a giant sculpted vine that decorated one of the walls of the Temple compound (cf. Card 167). I think it’s there that Jesus spoke the words we read this morning. I think it’s there he compared the disciples to a tree in the form of a vine, specifically a vine that is meant to bear fruit. Though, actually, he doesn’t say the vine will bear fruit. The vine sprouts a branch, and the branch is what bears fruit (15:2). New Testament scholar Scot McKnight says the words Jesus uses here aren’t actually translated quite right. What we read as “vine” could more appropriately refer to the whole vineyard, which makes sense. Jesus is addressing all of his “plants,” the whole vineyard that he hopes will grow from these eleven. We each, then, are individual plants, rooted in the soil that God the Father tends and cares for (15:1). God the Father is not just a “gardener;” he is a vinedresser and a winemaker. The Father provides what is needed for growth. In some cases, the branches need to be propped up, pointed toward the sun. All of them need water and nutrients, which the Father provides. And because he’s a good tender of the vines, the Father will do whatever is needed to make sure the vineyard is strong and healthy—even if that means cutting off some branches or even whole plants (cf. McKnight, John, pg. 251; Wright 69). Because the goal, Jesus says, is that the branches “bear much fruit” (15:5).

But the only way any branch, any plant in God’s vineyard, bears fruit is if the branch stays connected to the source. He says the branch must “remain” connected to the vine. In older translations, you will probably find the word “abide” there, which is a word we’ve been singing for several weeks now. That word actually has a whole wide range of meanings. You can translate it as inhabit, dwell, remain, stay, linger, continue, stand fast, hang on and wait. All sorts of different ways to describe the way Jesus means for us to be in relationship with him. And that is what he wants for these disciples. Remember, again, this is Thursday night. Tomorrow he will be on the cross. He needs them to get this tonight, so that no matter what happens tomorrow they do what they can to stay connected to him. Because only in him, only with him, can they become who they are meant to be. “Apart from me you can do nothing” (15:5). I looked that last word up, too. Do you know what it means? Nothing. Not even one thing. Without Jesus, there is a grand total of zero things we can do that matter.

So I think we have to ask a question at this point, one that is very relevant to a lot of people these days. Why would God cut off a branch? Or, more to the point, why would God turn his back on or turn away a person? Because that’s part of what Jesus it talking about there, right? He says people are the branches (15:5), so when he talks about the Father, God, the gardener, cutting off branches, he’s talking about God removing certain people from the vineyard, from the vine. Why would God do that? Especially in our world, we hear a lot about how God loves everyone and God will let everyone in the vineyard at the end. Well, according to Jesus, there is really only one reason God cuts off the branch: lack of fruitfulness. If the branch doesn’t do what it’s meant to do, bear fruit (and we’ll talk about what kind of fruit in a moment), then the branch is worthless. It’s taking up resources that would be better used by a branch that is actually producing fruit. Remember, the point of pruning is to remove branches and leaves so that the larger vineyard can be more productive. And to do that, some branches, unproductive branches, have to be cut down and, in the words of Jesus, “thrown into the fire and burned” (15:6). That’s not a popular image, of course. It’s not something we like to think about. But here’s the thing: if a branch is not producing fruit, it is already not participating in what the vine and the gardener is doing. Or, to drop the metaphor, why would someone want to be part of God’s kingdom if they aren’t interested in being the kind of person God wants them to be? C. S. Lewis wrote that God doesn’t actually throw anyone out who wants to be in. God only removes those who don’t want to be part of his family to begin with. It’s our choice to be a branch or to be cut off. And God will respect our choice.

But let me also say: the healthy branches don’t escape the pruning shears. Even healthy branches need to be and should expect to be pruned, trimmed, shaped to be even more fruitful. Jesus says that “every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful” (15:2). Pruning a vine means cutting away the extraneous stuff, the things that aren’t needed, anything that doesn’t contribute to producing fruit because the fruit is what it’s all about. If there’s no fruit, like on my grapevine, there is no purpose to the vine. For us, we experience “pruning” when God does things in our lives to remove the stuff that keeps us from producing the fruit that should be growing in us. We experience pruning often through challenges or trials or difficult circumstances. Paul put it this way when he wrote to the Romans: “We also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us” (Romans 5:3-5). Now “glorying in our sufferings” doesn’t mean that when a hard time comes we should stand up and cheer. “Yay! Hard times!” No, rather it means when hard times come we should be alert, looking for what how God is using this situation to shape us because there is nothing that comes our way that God can’t and won’t use. The Old Testament prophet Joel even used the image of a locust plague that wiped out crops to describe how God uses even hard times. He said God would “repay you for the years the locusts have eaten” (Joel 2:25). His name is not destroyer. It is redeemer. It is healer. It is pruner.

Many of you know I was born with a faulty heart valve which wasn’t discovered until I was getting ready to go to Ball State. I had no symptoms so life kind of went on as normal until one week while I was in seminary, I began to have difficulty breathing. I ended up in the hospital, and during that first night God and I had a lot to talk about. Long story short—God used that time that night to prune me, to shape me, to remove some rough edges in my life called self-reliance and impatience. It’s not what I would have chosen, but I am thankful for that time.

So if God the gardener is doing this pruning so that we can grow better fruit, what is the “fruit” God wants to see in us? For that, we have to turn over to the letter Paul wrote to the Galatians where he describes what is called the “fruit of the Spirit.” First Paul describes what he calls the “acts of the flesh,” and I find that an interesting description. Acts—things we do. Of the flesh—in our own power. These are the ways we begin to live when we are disconnected, when we are not a branch in Jesus’ vineyard. And listen to that list: “sexual immorality, impurity and debauchery; idolatry and witchcraft; hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissension, factions and envy; drunkenness, orgies and the like” (Galatians 5:19-21). Now, seriously, do we want to live that way? Hatred, rage, envy and so on? Paul says, “Those who live like this will not inherit the kingdom of God” (5:21) because they are not a branch. They are those who have been cut off.

“But,” Paul says, and then he goes on to describe the fruit of the spirit. Notice a couple of things here. First, the word “fruit” singular. Don’t be saying “fruits” of the spirit; that’s not what it is. I’ll correct you every time (and I know, Jason Rankin, you’re going to start doing that)! What Paul is about to list are is all one fruit. If you are a branch in the vineyard, this whole thing will be growing in your life. You don’t get to pick which aspects of the fruit you want; it’s all one and it all comes as part of the package. In other words, you don’t get a choice of whether to love others or not; branches love others. You don’t get to choose if you exercise self-control; branches are self-controlled. It’s not “fruits,” it’s “fruit.” And it’s not something we can come up with on our own; it’s something that comes from the Spirit of God in us. Fruit is not something we can force; it’s something the gardener tends so that it grows in our lives. But here’s the big thing: Jesus does not tell his followers to bear fruit. It’s not our work. He tells them and us to remain connected to him and then we will (not might, we will) bear fruit (cf. Thompson qtd. in Armstrong 112; McKnight 253). It’s something he does in us when we are connected.

So, here’s what that fruit looks like: “The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control” (Galatians 5:22-23). I listen to that list and there’s something in me that says, “Yes, that’s the way I want to live. That’s the way the world was meant to be.” And that’s why, as Paul goes on to say, “against such things there is no law.” You won’t get arrested for living this way. “When we are connected to the True Vine, receiving nutrients and life from him, we can’t help but bear fruit” (Armstrong 105).

Earlier in their walk, Jesus had told these disciples something that is quite astounding, and something I’ve honestly struggled to understand. He tells them that if they believe, they will be able to do what he has done, and he says they will do “even greater things than these” (14:12). Usually we hear that as “bigger miracles.” That’s certainly the way the “health and wealth” preachers portray it, but I’ve come to believe that Jesus actually describes what those “greater things” look like in the context of being a branch connected to him. Listen to what he says will happen when we stay connected. First, Jesus says prayers will be answered: “Ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you…whatever you ask in my name the Father will give you” (15:7, 16). Then, he says we will bring glory to the Father (15:8), and above all we will experience joy and love for Jesus, the Father and one another. Jesus says, “I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete” (15:11). And then he goes on: “Love each other as I have loved you” (15:12; McKnight 253). Now, where have I heard about love and joy so very recently?

You see, I don’t think it’s a mistake that Paul lists those two as the very first aspects of the fruit of the spirit: love, joy. If Jesus is in it, if we are truly connected to him and allowing him to cultivate the fruit of the spirit in us, it will look like love and feel like joy (cf. Armstrong 113). First, it will look like love. If you want to know what kind of fruit is being produced in your life, see how others describe you. See what others think of you. Do the words that come out of your mouth sound loving? Did the things you said to your kids or your housemates this morning reflect the love of Jesus? And do you do what you do in a spirit of love? I want to say that all of the time I am doing things in a loving manner, in the way Jesus would want me to, but I would be lying. I want my life to look like love, but there are plenty of times still when I do what I know I need to do with gritted teeth and a reluctant spirit. If I’m responding to others with rudeness, bitterness, envy or anger, it may be understandable, and there may even be a “good reason” for it. But that fruit is not a result of being connected to Jesus. That fruit, more likely, is from somewhere deep down inside of me. If we are connected to Jesus, our lives will look like love.

So let me say this: I had a friend on Facebook post right before General Conference began that we are witnessing the “untied” Methodist Church and the “untied” States of America. He’s not wrong. “Untied” is a common mistyping of the word “united,” and I don’t remember a time in the church or in our nation when I’ve seen so much anger and bitterness and just plain nastiness. I might expect it in the larger culture, but I’ve always expected better from the church. Yes, I’ve been disappointed a lot, but I don’t remember ever experiencing the level of disconnection we have now. We live in a time where, if you don’t agree with someone completely, you unfriend them or block them or have nothing more to do with them ever again. When did we lose the ability to love each other even if we disagree? Jesus didn’t say you will love those you agree with. He said you must love each other. A life connected to Jesus looks like love. That doesn’t mean we tolerate sin or evil. It simply means we love the other person because Jesus loves them. Every day I try to embody the spirit of Methodism’s founder, John Wesley, who followed Jesus in saying to others that we didn’t have to agree to join hands and work together. If we’re connected to Jesus, our life, and our church, will look like love.

And those things will feel like joy. Do you experience joy? I’m not talking about happiness. Happiness is connected to circumstances. If we have our favorite meal today, we might feel happy. Or if we see our best friend this week, we might feel happy. But there are a whole lot of life circumstances that do not make us happy. Paying bills rarely makes me happy. Being on hold for the doctor’s office does not make me happy. And as a kid when my parents tried to make my brother and I eat liver and onions, I was not happy. I still don’t eat liver and onions. Joy is deeper than that. Joy is that deep-down confidence that life is good and so is God. We can have joy even if we’re facing a life-threatening illness. We can have joy even when things don’t go our way. I think of Grace Gala and the challenges many of our guests face, things I can’t even imagine I’m sure. And yet they have joy. You see it in their faces. I have met people facing horrendous circumstances that I wouldn’t want to go through and yet they have joy. We had a lady on staff at my first church who was diagnosed with cancer and it was incurable. We were devastated, but she wasn’t and neither was her husband. Would they have both liked to have had more years? Of course, but they had joy even in the midst of the sickness and the challenges. If you are connected as a branch to Jesus, your life will feel like joy. Not happiness, not always. But joy.

One of my new favorite authors is Kate Bowler. The first book of hers that I read I bought on the strength of the title alone: Everything Happens for a Reason (And Other Lies I’ve Loved). That is a great title! But beyond that is a real person who struggles with faith and God and incurable cancer. I want you to hear some of her story. Take a listen.

Kate Bowler is connected to the vine. Her life looks like love and feels like joy. Even in the midst of battling a disease that one day will most likely end her life, she insists on living with love and joy. When I see and hear a witness like that, I’m challenged to the core of who I am to stay connected to the vine. How about you? Don’t you want to live a life that looks like love and feels like joy? Be a branch and stay connected to the vine. Welcome the gentle pruning the Father will do because he is making you stronger. And know that he only wants to grow good fruit in you for the sake of the world. Thanks be to God. Let’s pray.