"What is Your True Vine?"

Sermon preached by John C. Hall on May 10, 2009

Text — John 15:1-11

‘I am the true vine, and my Father is the vine-grower. 2He removes every branch in me that bears no fruit. Every branch that bears fruit he prunes* to make it bear more fruit. 3You have already been cleansed* by the word that I have spoken to you. 4Abide 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. 5I 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. 6Whoever does not abide in me is thrown away like a branch and withers; such branches are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned. 7If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask for whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. 8My Father is glorified by this, that you bear much fruit and become* my disciples. 9As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love. 10If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and abide in his love. 11I have said these things to you so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete.

A trademark of John’s gospel is that it includes many “I am” statements by Jesus. I am the light of the world. I am the good shepherd. I am the way, the truth, and the life.  I am the bread of life. I am the resurrection and the life.  And in today’s lesson, “I am the true vine.”  Let’s play with that metaphor a bit.

Jesus is the vine.  We are the branches.  The branches can’t live without a vine.  The vine brings water and nourishment to the branches.  Without that connection there is no fruit possible. We get our life and sustenance from a common source.

By analogy, the passage says that Jesus is at the heart, or the root, of our spiritual life.  Jesus is our connection with God. That’s the premise of the Christian faith. Other faiths would describe that connection differently, and we’re not objecting to other faiths here. This is just the Christian way.

The question I want to toss out for all of you to answer on your own is: what would you identify as your true vine? What do you do when you feel you’re going dry, or discouraged? What activity do you turn to? An activity can be a physical or mental.  Do you pray?  If so, how do you pray?  Do you call a certain friend? Do you go for a walk? And while you’re walking, do you think a certain thought or recall a certain story?  Do you have some message that you repeat to yourself like the serenity prayer? There are many possibilities.

The next questions is, whatever you do, does it work? It must work to some extent, or you wouldn’t do it, but some things work better than others.  Some things work for a little while, and then they quick working. We have many tools in our spiritual toolboxes. What is at the heart and center of your spiritual survival mechanism? You might say “Jesus” but how does Jesus function for you?

While you’re thinking about that, since Jesus used the metaphor of a vine I can’t resist at least a passing comment on this figure of speech. What kind of vine was Jesus speaking of?  I don’t think he meant a poison ivy vine. He meant a grape vine.  What do you do with grapes?  You can make Waldorf salad.  You can make grape jelly. You can make wine! 

When people feel anxious, or stressed, one thing that many people do is have a drink. For as long as humans have known about storing fruit and grain, we’ve probably also known about the effect of alcohol and other mood-altering substances on the brain. Alcohol is a tool in the toolbox. For some it’s not a problem and it’s a source of pleasure. For other people, it’s highly addictive and dangerous.

The point is that some “vines” — some ways to God, some ways to feel better, to find consolation, or peace, or perspective — some vines in this figurative sense are better than others. What is your pathway to God? What is your way to inner peace, or hope, or whatever you call your spiritual center or foundation? When you think of all that can go wrong in your life, and something will go “wrong” in all our lives — in the sense that no one lives forever — and when you think of what has gone wrong, and how you dealt with it, and what you learned, how would you put into words what is most basic in your outlook? 

How do you keep your bearings?  How do you navigate through all that life deals us? What do you trust?  What is reliable? What is “true” for you in that sense?

I’m proposing this question for our next group sermon, on Sept. 13.  This gives us a lot of time. What is your true vine?  What is your connecting belief or practice or idea?

I’ve heard many people answer this question over the years.  Some people wrote their answer in emails, or they told me and I took notes for future reference.

Here are some examples:

When I ponder how fragile life is, or when I feel pain or sadness or failure, I think of Jesus.  I imagine his life full of love, hope, effort, and wonder. I think of his struggles and death. This reminds me that all life includes good and bad. It reminds me to feel grateful for all I’ve enjoyed, and it helps me prepare for struggles ahead. For me, Jesus is the sign that God is gracious, and that in spite of pain or struggles, life is beautiful, worth living, and in the end all will be well.

When I’m down or depressed, I go someplace where someone else needs help. I volunteer or I just show up someplace where people need someone to talk to.  People think I’m being generous or loving, but it’s really because I need to do it for my own sake. It puts my problems in perspective. I’m not the only one with problems, and my problems aren’t the worst ones in the world.

I walk in the woods, or I just walk down the sidewalk.  I see a bird and I think of all the life and energy in that tiny creature.  I hear its song and I’m delighted by all the variety and beauty of nature.  I see a flower struggling to emerge from a crack in the pavement, and it reminds me of the power of the life force.

I pray to Jesus because I can picture Jesus. I feel Jesus as a spiritual presence who is always available. He knows what I’m going through and understands it because of what he went through.  Jesus will be there when I die, and he’ll be there after I die.  As long as he’s alive, the part of me that lives in him will be alive too. 

Most of my prayer life involves making music — singing, or playing the piano by myself, even though I have limited skill on the piano.  It takes me into a different world and absorbs my attention in a way that heals my soul. 

I think of God as my compass, or as something like the North Star.  God is far above and far beyond all the messes that I’ve gotten myself into. When I get dizzy, so to speak, the North Star is still in place.  As long as there’s a North Star in the sky, I can always find my way.