Did
you ever wonder what happened after Jesus broke bread and shared wine
and prayer and a hymn with his disciples for the last time (the event, of
course, which we will remember this morning when we share in communion together)
– after that special meal and before Jesus was arrested by Roman
soldiers with spite-filled Pharisees looking on?
Did
Jesus and his friends leave the Upper Room in Jerusalem silently, each one with
his own private thoughts too precious and perhaps too awful to share? Was there a certain dread foremost in their
minds as they walked toward the Garden of Gethsemane filled with its evening
primroses, moonflowers, and Casablanca lilies, the twilight dew already moistening
their toes?
Not
according to the Gospel writer of John! No
- they were not a bunch of introspective individuals, alone in their
thoughts. Jesus did not allow them to be
that. They were a community, and so
Jesus kept on talking to them.
He
continued his Farewell Discourses as they were later called and went on
teaching until the very end. For it is
in these final “in between” moments on the way to the garden that, according to
the Gospel writer of John, Jesus spoke his seventh and final “I am” saying, one
of the most beautiful and moving passages in all of Scripture.
“I am
the Vine, and you are the branches” Jesus told his soon-to-be faithless
followers. “Live in me. Make your home in me just as I do in you. In the same way
that a branch can't bear grapes by itself but only by being joined to the vine,
you can't bear fruit unless you are joined with me. When you're joined with me and I with you,
the relation intimate and organic, the harvest is sure to be abundant.”
Now, I do not know much about grapes and vineyards. However, I do know that when we moved to our
farm in Naples, there was an old and overgrown Concord grape arbor in the side
yard. All it consisted of was a tangle
of scraggly vines looping aimlessly over, under, and around one another. Vines trailed on the ground too, sending out
their own shoots and suckers. There was certainly not
an abundance of fruit to be had.
However, Joe and I decided it was worth a shot to try to
revive the old vines. Now my husband is
a much more ruthless pruner that I am, so there was not much left when he was
done. However, you could see clearly the
two or three ancient and thick trunks to which the smaller branches that he
left were clearly attached and from which they would receive their sustenance,
so that in future years they might bear their fruit abundantly.
Now this passage in the Gospel of John that we just read,
well, it probably would have made more sense to me if Jesus had talked about an
old gnarled New England apple tree laden down with fruit aplenty to feed the
hungry – or even good old Iowa corn or maybe even Southern cotton. However (and it should not come as a
surprise), Jesus crafted words and images that made sense to first century Jews
and not 20th century Americans – though sometimes we forget that
fact.
And so when Jesus spoke about vineyards, the people of
Judea knew what he was talking about. Viniculture (making wine) was an
important industry that had been around for centuries. Vineyards were critical
to the economy. Grapes were a cash crop,
you see, in contrast to grain, which was raised only for consumption.
In one article I read this week, I found out that grapes
“ are a very rugged crop in a way and in another sense (the grape) is a very
delicate fruit and requires being treated with kid gloves. A young vine is not
permitted to bear fruit for the first three years. It is therefore drastically
pruned in December and January to preserve its energy.
The particular branches that do not bear fruit are cut
out to further conserve the energy of the plant. If this constant cutting back
was not done, the result would be a crop that was not up to its full potential.”
So when Jesus spoke about vineyards certainly the people
could identify with that metaphor… It didn't make any difference whether or not
you were in that business. You had grown up around
it enough that you would still be familiar with it.” (www.sermons.com)
So – what was Jesus trying to help his followers
understand in those final moments before his arrest? What was so important to get across to them
that he would use one more image of something so familiar to them all - perhaps in a last ditch hope that they
would, for once, get it – and therefore get what it was that he had been all
about all along?
At its root, no pun intended, this passage concerning
ancient grape arbors is about connections – connections that we have with God
and with one another. It is about the
energy that is generated because of such sacred connections. It is about what flows so freely by way of
those connections.
Like so many of Jesus’ stories and parables and sayings,
this passage is certainly a source of enormous comfort. However, if we are to realize the breadth and
depth of its power, we must also embrace its profound challenge as well.
This passage invites us into a personal and even intimate
relationship with God – and therein lies the source of its comfort. We who dare to call ourselves Christian are
connected to God through Jesus as branches are connected to the central
vine. We are invited to abide in God as
God abides in us, to live in the Almighty as the Holy One lives in us.
This image is about foundational relationship, and by
that I mean that it is about far more than a superficial connection you might
have with Jesus simply because you come to church every Sunday – or most
Sundays.
The connection that the Gospel writer of John is talking
about is like the difference between social media and face-to-face contact. In
this passage, Jesus is talking about something far more precious than a virtual
chat room or simply “liking” someone on Facebook, a connection unlikely to be sustaining
through difficult and painful times. No
matter who we are or where we are on our life’s journey, God accepts us and
remains with us. That is the connection
that this passage imagines.
For we who call ourselves Christian, it is through Jesus
that we experience this deep and sustaining relationship with God. God welcomes us as a branch, prunes us every
now and then, but that is to be expected.
And just as a branch receives life-giving nutrients
through the vine, so it can flourish, so when we are so connected with God
through Jesus, we receive something life-giving as well. God’s love flows into us and by doing so
creates in us the capacity for deep and profound acts of compassion. Love’s energy and power flows in and through
us. It is part of us. Love is who we are meant to be.
However, this passage is not only about our personal connection
with God through Jesus. That would be
far too individualistic – and Jesus was all about community. And so this passage is also about our
connection with one another – and therein lies its challenge. As G.K.
Chesterton wrote, one " can no more possess a private religion than he can
possess a private sun or moon."
Did you know that those giant sequoia trees, which can
measure hundreds of feet in height and 10 or more feet in girth and thousands
of years in age, have very shallow root systems? The way they withstand the
winds and stress of so many years is they intertwine their roots with others,
thus drawing their strength from each other. (Wiley Stephens)
Methodist pastor, Wiley Stephens tells a story entitled
"The Rabbi's Gift." A monastery had fallen on hard times, with only
five monks left. In desperation, the Abbot went to a neighboring rabbi for
advice.
The rabbi said, "I have no advice to give you
really. The only thing I can say is that one of you could well be the
Messiah."
The abbot brought this thought back, but he said he
really didn't know what to make of it. And in the months that followed, they pondered
the thought. Without realizing it, they also began to treat each other
differently. There was a new sense of love and respect. Others were attracted
to their order. The monastery took on new life. It makes a difference in our
relationship with others…when we see that (God) abides in them as within us.
Because we are branches attached to a common vine, we are
thereby linked to one another. The love
which flows from God to you also flows from God to me – and in turn that love
in you and in me continues to flow outward, connecting us one to another until
we are all connected - African to
American, Christian to Muslim, gay to straight, the 1% to the 99%.
That is what it means to make your home in Jesus, to be
connected to the vine. That is what it
means to love like God’s love is really flowing in your veins. You do not make your home in Jesus only with
people who are like you.
Being connected to the vine means moving beyond racism
and homophobia. It means moving toward
economic justice and religious acceptance.
It means actively making a commitment to swallow the fear that cuts us
off from the ones who are different than we are – but in whom God’s love abides
just the same.
And so there is challenge in this passage about an
ancient grape arbor as well as profound comfort. There is the comfort in trusting in that connection
to the Holy One and abiding in the love that such a connection generates.
However, there is also the challenge of recognizing the
love of God in others and working – working hard – to strengthen one another
because we are all branches and it will be through us that the vineyard will become
the Kingdom of God.
And if we don’t?
If we take only the comfort - and not the challenge? Then, as Jesus reminds us in this passage, we
are little more than deadwood, gathered up and thrown on the bonfire.
by Rev. Nancy Foran, Raymond Village Community Church
www.rvccme.org
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