John
15:1-11
1 "I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinegrower. 2 He
removes every branch in me that bears no fruit. Every branch that bears fruit
he prunes to make it bear more fruit. 3 You have already been cleansed by the
word that I have spoken to you. 4 Abide in me as I abide in you. Just as the
branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can
you unless you abide in me. 5 I am the vine, you are the branches. Those who
abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do
nothing. 6 Whoever does not abide in me is thrown away like a branch and
withers; such branches are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned. 7 If you
abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask for whatever you wish, and it will
be done for you. 8 My Father is glorified by this, that you bear much fruit and
become my disciples. 9 As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide
in my love. 10 If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as
I have kept my Father's commandments and abide in his love. 11 I have said
these things to you so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be
complete.
Today, we hear the seventh and final “I am” statement of
our Lord in the fourth gospel: “I am the true vine…” Whenever I
hear folks talking about vines there are quite a few images that immediately
gather at the forefront of my mind. There’s the image of those hot, summer
Saturdays in South Alabama, when my two cousins and I would ride in the back of
Grandma’s truck over to Uncle Ray’s house. As far as I know, Uncle Ray wasn’t in
any way, shape, form, or fashion our uncle, but he was a good friend of the
family and let my grandma have anything she wanted out of his garden. We’d
spend the better part of the day, picking peas and butter beans, but what my
cousins and I wanted most grew on a vine that ran along the ground—watermelons!
We were able to pick a couple and sometimes even eat one right there on the
tailgate of that old, blue Chevrolet. That’s one image that comes to mind when
I think of vines—watermelons.
Then there’s the image of the house where I spent most of
my childhood. The backyard of our house on North Hill Street in Enterprise was
less of a yard and more of a steep hill that ran down into a wide ditch, and
all along that ditch, covering every square inch and climbing up into the trees
on the other side, was a grand, green curtain of kudzu. Most of you know what
kudzu is, that fast-growing, green, leafy vine that stretches out all over
everything. Nothing can really kill or eat kudzu, so once it begins to take
over all you can do is fight it back with the sharp blades of yard tools and
hope to keep up. Kudzu—that’s another image that comes to mind when I think
about vines.
Perhaps, though, the image that comes to my mind that
strikes closest to what Jesus and his disciples would have known comes out of my
college days. Prior to the start of my junior year at Samford, I spent one week
on a farm in Southwest Georgia. I went as a part of a small group of students
trying to see what it would be like to have an intentional community on
Samford’s campus (to be honest, the project wasn’t all that successful). During
our time on the farm we helped out with the daily work, and one of the jobs we
had to do was pick muscadines and scuplins (or scuppernongs depending on who
you ask). Between dodging June bugs and trying to stay out of the fire ants,
we’d pick the grapes and place them in quart-sized baskets, and load them
carefully onto a cart. Those old vines seemed to go on forever until they
gathered into one big stalk that looked like it had been in the ground at least
since the Civil War. The sweet smell of muscadine grapes, that’s an image I rather
enjoy when I hear words about vines.
Perhaps that is the sort of image that provoked Jesus to
use such a metaphor in this “I am” statement. Maybe, as they left the upper
room after supper (in chapter fourteen), Jesus and his disciples walked by a
vineyard, or perhaps they saw a small vine growing in the courtyard outside
someone’s home, and the sight triggered this little parable from Jesus. It is
possible he saw a vine growing and decided to use it as an object lesson to his
disciples as they walked closer to the fate that awaited Jesus that night.
Whatever it was that brought this metaphor to Jesus’ mind, when the disciples
heard him speaking about a vine it is likely they had their own images come to
mind, and I’m certain none of them thought about watermelons, kudzu, or even
muscadines.
There is a very good chance, however, that when Jesus
said, “I am the true vine…” his followers had a rather specific image
cross their minds. You see, for a first century Jew, vines were everywhere: not
only were they common in the landscape of the Ancient Near East, but they were
often engraved on ancient Jewish coins (and still engraved on the coins used in
Israel today)[1];
at the entrance to the Holy Place of Herod’s temple in Jerusalem there were
two, great, golden pillars, around which were fashioned intricate, golden vines
with polished clusters of grapes.[2] The vine was a symbol for
Israel—perhaps even a symbol of patriotic pride, yet when the ancient prophets
spoke of Israel as a vine it was quite often in reference to Israel’s failing
to produce fruit: in other words, even though Israel saw itself as God’s vine,
the fruit of blessing as God had declared in his covenant with their ancestor
Abraham,[3] they had failed in bearing
the fruit of that blessing. So, perhaps the image of a vine simultaneously
created within those disciples feelings of ethnic pride and religious failure.
But hold on. Jesus says in verse one, “I am the true
vine…”
His words imply that whatever image of a vine they had before is false, for he
is the true vine. Furthermore, not
only is Jesus the true vine, but he says (in the second half of verse one), “and my Father is the vinegrower.”
Right away, Jesus reminds us that he shares a special relationship with God the
Father. It’s a deep, mystical relationship between the Father and the Son, a
relationship that Jesus continues to weave into the vine metaphor in verse 2 when he says, “He
removes every branch in me that bears no fruit. Every branch that bears fruit
he prunes to make it bear more fruit.” Even in these words that
describe the relationship between God the Son and God the Father, we begin to
see how we as believers play a part in this relationship with the true vine,
for in verse five Jesus says, “I am
the vine, you are the branches.” God the Father is the vinegrower;
Jesus the Son is the true vine; and Jesus’ followers are the branches. I have a
feeling Jesus meant to conjure up more than feelings of pride and failure when
he used this image with his first disciples; I believe Jesus’ words are meant
to empower his followers as the branches that bear fruit.
In verses three
through six Jesus says, “You have already been cleansed by the word
that I have spoken to you. Abide in me as I abide in you. Just as the branch
cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you
unless you abide in me. I am the vine,
you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit,
because apart from me you can do nothing. Whoever does not abide in me is
thrown away like a branch and withers; such branches are gathered, thrown into
the fire, and burned.” Now before we take the burning imagery of verse six and attempt to run away to
the altar call with it, let’s try to hear all of what Jesus says in these
verses.
In verse three
Jesus says to his disciples that they “have already been cleansed by the word that
[he] has spoken to [them].” The word translated as “cleansed” shares
the same root as the word translated as “prunes” in verse two: it suggest an act that allows a productive branch of a
plant (in this case, a vine) to produce more fruit, whether in size or number.[4] So when Jesus says his
followers have already been cleansed by his words, he means they have been
prepared to produce fruit; that is to say, they are ready to spread the Good
News Jesus has been sharing with them. There is, however, a sort of catch to
being fruitful, for just as a branch cannot produce fruit if it is severed from
the vine, a disciple cannot bear the fruit of the kingdom if he or she is
severed from Christ. This is what all this talk from Jesus about “abiding”
means for the life of his followers.
You see, back in verse
six Jesus speaks about what happens to those who do not abide in him, those who do not produce fruit: “Whoever
does not abide in me is thrown away like a branch and withers; such branches
are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned.” Now I know we want to use
this verse as some sort of proof-text about hell and how it’s like a fire, but
I’m actually not convinced that’s entirely what Jesus is talking about with
these words. After all, he’s just spent this time talking about what it means
to abide in him and bear fruit, and how it is impossible to do anything without
him, yet he doesn’t mention anything about heaven or eternity at all. No, it
seems to me what Jesus is driving at for those of us who follow him is a sense
of purpose. After all, why are branches gathered, thrown into the fire, and
burned? It is because they have no purpose; in fact, if they are left alone
they can decrease the produce of the fruitful branches. In other words, it
seems to me that in these words from Christ to his disciples then, and to those
of us who call ourselves his disciples now, we hear him defining our purpose—to
bear fruit as we abide in him.[5]
But there is so
much more to this idea of abiding and bearing fruit that simply calling oneself
a Christian and attempting to do good works. In verses seven through eleven Jesus continues with his words to his
followers both then and now: “If you abide in me, and my words abide in
you, ask for whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. My Father is glorified by this, that you bear
much fruit and become my disciples. As the Father has loved me, so I have loved
you; abide in my love. If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love,
just as I have kept my Father's commandments and abide in his love. I have said
these things to you so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be
complete.” The whole reason we abide in Christ is so that we may share
in this relationship he has with the Father (remember: The Father is the
vinedresser; Jesus is the vine; we are the branches). We abide in Christ to
bear fruit, and in bearing fruit we bring glory to God.
Again, this
isn’t just some formulaic approach to religion. What Jesus is telling us with
these words is that when we abide in him—in
his love, when we bear fruit for the kingdom—spreading the gospel, we
glorify God. We find our entire purpose as we abide in Christ. This experience
called faith isn’t solely about where we will spend eternity; it isn’t just
about whether or not we can avoid the fire. This thing called faith is about
finding our purpose and meaning in Christ, in this grand and glorious
relationship with the Almighty God, while we glorify Him here and now.
On this Palm
Sunday, a day we mark as the beginning of Holy Week, we recall these words of
Jesus to his disciples. May they be words that instruct us and encourage us as
we seek to live out our faith. May they be words that challenge those of us who
seek little more than safety from the fire. May Christ’s words cleanse us as we
seek to bear fruit for the kingdom, and may we strive each day to be found
abiding in Christ and the relationship he offers us to God the Father. May we
bear fruit as the branches of the True Vine.
Let us pray…
[1]Kostenberger, Andreas K. Zondervan Illustrated Bible Background
Commentary: John. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Zondervan, 2002. P. 144.
[2] Kostenberger, Andreas K. Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New
Testament: John. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Baker Academic, 2004. P.450
[3]
Genesis 12:1-3
[4]
See margins of the New Revised Standard
Version (NRSV).
[5]
Beasley-Murray, George R. Word Biblical
Commentary: Vol. 36 (John). Waco, Tex.: Word Books, 1987. P.273.
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