Coming to Fruition--May 2, 2024

Coming to Fruition--May 2, 2024

[Jesus said:] "I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinegrower. He removes every branch in me that bears no fruit. Every branch that bears fruit he prunes to make it bear more fruit. 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." [John 15:1-5]

For whatever it means for a plant to be alive, it seems certain to me that the same "life" that courses through the main trunk also courses through the tendrils, leaves, branches, and stems that branch off of it.  The nutrients from the soil, the energy from the sun, and the sap within each structure all flow throughout the whole plant, from roots to the tips of petals, from leaves that harness solar energy to fruit that prepares seeds to be scattered so new life can begin elsewhere.  In fact, as much as we scientifically-minded modern people might want to dissect and diagram a plant into discrete "pieces" and "parts," a real living organism is rather blurry on the inside.  That is, the various components flow into each other, so that you can't really tell where the one stops and the other starts.  

Where, exactly, does a root stop being a root and start being called the "trunk" of the tree?  Where does the bud begin and the stem end?  In a sense, the most accurate way to picture a plant, whether it's a gingko or a grapevine, is as a whole, with the same life and energy flowing through the whole. 

I think that's at least part of how Jesus' imagery of a vine and branches works, too.  When he talks about his community of disciples "abiding" in him just as he "abides" in us, it is with that sense of his life flowing into us, through us, and then beyond us, so that our life and Jesus' life blur together. It's maybe just a different angle on the same idea that Paul phrases as, "It is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me... and the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me" (Galatians 2:20).  The idea is that none of us is left to our own devices in this life of following Jesus. Rather, we are tethered to Jesus as surely as a branch is attached to the main vine from which it grows and draws its own life.  The same DNA that is in every cell of the trunk is in every cell of the leaves, too (yes, plants have DNA), and the same kind of life characteristic of Jesus--the unique way he loves, trusts, gives, speaks, and acts--is given to us as well.  And of course, in some sense that means the watching world will be able to see a glimpse of Jesus' own life being lived in us, much like you might spot a deep red pointed leaf on the ground and know it came from a Japanese maple, or see an acorn and know it is the telltale sign of an oak.  

The Christian life, then, is not a product that we, like consumers, might try a sample of to try on (or not try) as we like, leaving off with the parts we don't like.  Rather it is a matter of letting Jesus' kind of life animate us, and letting Christ-like love be what courses through our words, actions, and choices.

And here's the thing, dear ones: once we see the Christian life as a matter of letting Jesus' vine-life flow through us like we are the branches, the worry of "Have I been good enough?" or "Have I done enough?" or "Am I acceptable?" fades away.  It's not a matter of earning your way in or making yourself acceptable--it is simply a matter of letting the life that has been given to you come to, well, fruition.  Where we aren't growing in the right ways or right direction, the Vine-Grower prunes--not as punishment, but as a means of training branches to more fully be what they are meant to be.  Where we have dead extremities, they can be clipped so that what is alive can thrive.  In other words, I don't have to be afraid of being cut off, lost, or burned in the fire--I am simply free to trust that the life that comes from the Vine will enliven me and enable me to grow.

While we're on the subject, the life that comes from the Vine is always going to be particularly Christ-like, since Jesus is the one who is the source of our life.  The same way a grapevine produces grapes rather than deadly nightshade berries, the living Jesus will produce in us fruit that is particularly Jesus-like in flavor. Our presence in the world will have the character of Jesus--his courageous love, his audacious welcome, his abundant generosity--because it is his life that fills us. Selfishness, arrogance, rudeness, hatefulness, and bigotry will shrivel the more we are fed by Jesus, but love, truth-telling, justice, and mercy will thrive.  That only makes sense, because it is Christ himself whose life becomes our life.

I hope as we continue in these remaining weeks of Eastertide it's becoming clear that talking about the risen life of Jesus isn't just about a period of forty days when the resurrected body of the man from Nazareth walked around Palestine after the empty tomb.  It's about the way this same risen Jesus is now actively animating our lives, making us like him.  And I hope we can hear that as good news--as a gift from Jesus himself, nurturing us like the roots feeding the treetops--rather than as a worry about how we measure up.

Today, let's simply allow Jesus' own life to fill us and make us more fully alive--and more fully like him.

Lord Jesus, fill us with your own life, and bring forth from us what we are meant to be.