In comparing himself to the vine, Jesus gives us an opportunity to see the communal nature of love. An idea skewed by our obsession with individualism.
A Tough Lesson in “It’s not my job”
Easter 5B | John 15:1-8
Pruning of vines, growing fruit, and abiding in Jesus. For the second straight week, we’re offered a distracting image that is supposed to bring us closer to God.
Last week, I flailed about trying to make sense of Jesus as a shepherd, knowing that most of us have little working knowledge of sheep. And the herding of sheep, even less so. And the role of shepherds in first Century Palestine even less than that!
There was one detail, however, that, for me, unlocks the Good Shepherd image: and that is in remembering that being a shepherd isn’t a job. Many didn’t choose to be shepherds or were compelled by what amounts to a court order.
Therefore, being the Good Shepherd isn’t about being the right kind of person doing a particular job, but expressing an incredible love and commitment to the sheep without compulsion or personal benefit.
It’s a story about love for the sake of love.
So even as there is a lot about the image we might miss, the love still speak to us. Even when we don’t get all the details. What Jesus is really speaking to shines through anyway. Which is amazing!
This week’s image of the vine puts us in a similar spot. It’s a complex, distracting image that manages to speak to us anyway!
The Pitfall
First off: Jesus describes himself as the vine and we as its branches. What makes this a complex image is that he gets into pruning. So this image, about our interconnectedness—that we are all a part of this big, bold community—gets complicated right out of the gates. Because Jesus wants to talk about snipping the vine back.
I’m not a gardener. Not because I don’t want to be. I just have never learned to be. If I’m outside, I’m playing tennis or hiking or swimming. Or else I’m doing inside stuff outside. Like writing or drinking coffee.
So my understanding of pruning is primarily academic. I get the idea of it.
And why do we prune? Sometimes the nutrients are spread to too many branches, so we cut some back to make the whole plant stronger. Sometimes a branch is dying or we desire the plant to look a certain way.
We know in our own heads that pruning a plant is often necessary for its growth. It can get stronger when you cut it back!
But when we apply this idea to human beings, it suddenly gets really, really complicated. And in two particular ways.
- Like the untrained gardener, we all have a hard time telling the difference between a necessary pruning and physical or emotional harm. Much spiritual abuse is offered by people trying to help other people grow.
- We get so caught up in the idea of pruning, that we forget that it isn’t our job. We aren’t the master gardeners in this scenario: God is.
These two confusions make it very easy to lose the thread of this story: the love God shares with the world grows inside of us.
I wish it were simple
I’ll be the first to admit that I wish Jesus had just kept it simple. Here’s the image; blow that up; then maybe dive into the nuance, but keep everybody on board.
What we get, instead, is a bit of…well…pruning.
Like most plants, we predictably lean toward the light. When there are many of us in one spot, we stretch taller to get more of it. When we’re alone in the field, we stretch out to soak up as much of it as we can. We want it all.
But Jesus is giving us some uncomfortable news. It’s good news that will make us grow. But we probably don’t want to hear it. We want to soak up all of that love and now we’re hearing that maybe we’re not so perfect. Maybe God needs something different from us than we’re used to offering. Repent (turn)! Become new as we all become new.
None of us likes to be pruned. But this is central to Jesus’s teaching: that we are pruned. That we grow better when we allow God to make new growth through us.
Our tradition is founded on this willingness to be changed by God. But only that one time. A long time ago.
And yet, as we get older, the more we say “an old dog can’t learn new tricks.” Which is kind of like calling Jesus a liar.
The point isn’t to prove you are the best (or worst) at change. Because this has nothing to do with our ability. It’s about God doing something with us.
Easily Distracted
It is easy to get distracted with the pruning so that we focus on what it would mean for us to prune each other—to make our neighbors better hosts for God. Or to focus on what it implies about God as the divine gardener—wondering who among us gets cut back for being bad.
But Jesus isn’t saying that.
This isn’t an image that helps us prune ourselves or one another. We’re not the ones with the scissors! This is about what God is up to. In us. And through us.
This whole thing is about God. It isn’t about us. We need to get our egos out of the way!
It isn’t up to me
This may be the most challenging idea in the whole thing. That Jesus isn’t giving us something to do. We’re not being offered a doctrine to memorize to get a gold star from the teacher. And not one bit of this is a competition! We’re not getting graded, there’s no standardized test to determine what school you get to go to or how much the state can cut your school’s funding.
This is about the fruit God is growing in us. The fruit God is tending to through us.
Stop grabbing the sheers and stealing God’s work! We don’t need to be judging each other, evaluating everything around us like a hyperactive theater critic.
We are blessed with the love of God. Every one of us. We are blessed to be filled with it.
Which doesn’t mean we can’t be sad or frustrated. Nor must we expect to feel full of love all of the time. God’s love comes to us even when we don’t want it or even don’t know how to love.
We are loved. And the fruit of love is within us. And the good news is that we don’t have to be perfect branches to make it happen. Nor is it our job to make sure our neighbors are perfect branches either. We are free of that responsibility!
We have a much greater opportunity to see God’s love working in each other. To seek it out, find it in one another, and marvel at the good God is doing. That is the miraculous part. That our job is to watch fruit grow and rejoice in it.
So let’s find it. Together.