John 15:1-17 · The Vine and the Branches
Chosen
John 15:1-17
Sermon
by David G. Rogne
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It is a difficult thing not to be chosen. I can still remember what a relief it was to be appointed by the teacher as one of the two captains who would choose team members when our class would be divided for softball. It meant that I would be, in effect, the first one to be chosen. What agony it was, however, when others were doing the choosing. As an uncoordinated youngster, with very little to offer toward the team's success, I was likely to be chosen last, and the humiliation was keenly felt.

Perhaps the disciples of Jesus experienced similar anguish when they contemplated the task that was before them following the death of Jesus. It must have been helpful to look back to that last meal they shared with Jesus before his death, and remember that he had affirmed that he had chosen them to be on his team. I think that it is fair to say that, as Jesus chose the members of that first team of disciples, he continues to choose the current members of his team, and to deploy them in ways that serve his plan. Look with me at this passage from the Gospel of John so that we might all learn what Christ chooses for his disciples to do. 

For one thing, he says that he has chosen us to witness. Most of us don't like that suggestion. We have had people witness to us in ways that were not very winsome. Witnessing has a bad name. It conjures up images of people who make us uncomfortable. But really, a witness is simply a person who honestly shares his or her perception of reality. And it may persuade someone who is uncommitted. 

Dave Dravecky, the former Giants pitcher, tells of having a speaking engagement at a church one evening, but he really didn't feel like going through with it. He was still struggling over the loss of his pitching arm to cancer. He felt lousy, but he went anyway. "I felt so unworthy to be standing there in front of all those people who looked up to me," he wrote. He felt that if they knew what he was really like, they would get up and walk out the door. But nobody walked out.

In fact, one fellow came forward who felt that he was making a mess out of his life. He wanted to change his life, but he wasn't sure how. He was involved with another woman, but was trying to put his marriage back together. There was something in what Dave said that spoke to him. He wanted Christ to come into his heart and to change his life. That night the man went home to his wife. In the weeks that followed, his co-workers, his neighbors, and his wife noticed the change in him. Five weeks later he was involved in a truck accident that killed him. 

A few months later Dave Dravecky was speaking on a radio program. During the call-in segment of the show, the man's widow called in to say that those five weeks were the best days of their marriage. Tearfully, she thanked Dave for what his words had done for her husband and for herself. Sometimes, our words fall on fertile ground. 

But witnessing is not only about words. Selwyn Dawson has written:

The living truth is what I long to see:
I cannot lean upon what used to be,
So shut the Bible up and show me how
The Christ you talk about is living now.

Cecil Northcott tells of a group of young people from many nations who were discussing how they might witness to Christ in our day. Some spoke of television, some spoke of radio, some spoke of distributing literature, and still others of holding mass meetings. Then a girl from Africa spoke: "When we want to take Christianity to one of our villages, we don't send them books. We take a Christian family and send them to live in the village. They make the village Christian by living there." We have been chosen to bear witness. 

A second thing we have been chosen to do is to bear fruit. This statement comes on the heels of Jesus' description of himself as a vine and of his disciples as branches. A healthy plant has to put down roots so that the whole plant will be sustained. Most of us are acquainted with the Japanese art of raising and styling dwarf trees called bonsai. The Japanese simply cut the tap root, and as a result, the tree must live on small surface roots only. What would otherwise become a great oak or pine remains a little tree, perhaps twelve or eighteen inches high. The result may be pleasing and decorative, but it hardly allows the tree to develop to its full potential.  It is possible for people to remain dwarfed in their spiritual lives, decorative, but never reaching full potential, because their initial faith has not been nurtured. They are too puny themselves to bear any significant fruit. 

Jesus invites us to participate with him in a life that will enable us to grow and to fulfill the potential which God has placed in us. Jesus gained his own strength from being rooted in God, and through Jesus, Christians are brought into contact with the Eternal. Jesus describes himself as being the true vine. He describes those associated with him as branches. The branch needs to have an intimate relationship with the vine in order to benefit from the life-sustaining nourishment. 

I have a friend who for many years has been a grape farmer in the San Joaquin Valley of California. The branches of his vines are tied to long wires that run between the plants. The wires are attached to posts. Every few years he has to go through the vineyard and replace the posts. The branches stay in contact with the living root and they are sustained from year to year. The posts are placed in the same ground, right next to the vine, but having no root, not only do they not grow, they begin to rot. 

Christians need to stay in contact with the one who gives life and sustenance to their spiritual growth. We do that when we make time for prayer, when we make time to read the Bible and reflect on its implications for us, when we spend time in meditation and ask questions like, "What does God expect of me?" When we do those things, we find that our spirits are sustained and our spiritual lives continue to grow. 

But we have been chosen, not simply to develop personally, but to bear fruit. That is, our Christian faith should show some results. It is possible for a tree to look good but to be unprofitable. We used to have an apricot tree in our backyard. It was one of the nicest-looking apricot trees you'd ever want to see: healthy leaves, long branches, well-developed trunk. The only problem was that it didn't produce apricots. 

The same thing can happen to people. A few years ago the psychology department of PrincetonUniversity conducted an experiment. Immediately after an ethics seminar, a class of forty ministry students left to attend a peace rally. Unknown to them, the department had hired an actress to stand along the route the students would take and pretend that she was choking, unable to catch her breath. The actress leaned helplessly against the wall of a building in plain view. The future ministers hurried by her; some of them did glance uneasily at the woman, but none of them stopped to help her. At one point she even fell to one knee for greater effect. But still no one stopped. Later, when the students learned of the experiment, many of them gave the peace rally as an excuse for not stopping. Each one felt that surely someone else was better equipped to spare the time to help the woman. After all, the peace rally was important. 

It is important that Christians grow in the faith, learn to pray, become familiar with the Bible, as were those students, but if that is where it stops, we are no more than ornamental decorations -- bonsais -- healthy in ourselves, but stunted and unuseful. We are to bear fruit. 

William Penn, who was eventually to become the founder of Pennsylvania, was once asked by an acquaintance to take him to a Quaker meeting in London. The young Quaker did so. When he and his friend had sat through about an hour of silence, the friend asked Penn in a whisper, "When does the service begin?" Penn's answer was, "The service begins when the meeting ends." It is still that way today. We worship, study, and pray so that we may become useful. 

A third thing we have been chosen to do is to love. It sounds like a high calling, and for the most part, we are glad to be part of the team chosen to express it. But even something as noble as love can be trivialized. A while back there was a popular commercial on television showing a group of fishing buddies sitting around a campfire, "bonding" over their experience. One of the guys becomes quite emotional, moves close to another fellow seated around the fire, throws his arms around his friend, and chokes out the words: "I love you, man!" Instead of being touched, however, the friend is cautious. "That's great, man," he says, "but you still aren't getting my Budweiser!" Too often, love has been reduced to a device used to help us get what we want. 

The love for which Jesus has chosen us involves giving rather than getting. I read recently about a devout nun who works in a hospital in New York City. Before her shift she would spend an hour on her knees in adoration of God and in preparation for her work. Late one afternoon, toward the end of her shift, she was bathing an abusive patient who was dying with AIDS. A man passing through the ward saw her and said out loud to a companion, "I wouldn't do that for all the gold in FortKnox." The nun, hearing the remark, gently replied, "Neither would I." The visitor apologized profusely. With a warm smile, the nun responded, "It becomes possible when one prays, 'Lord, help me to remember that there is nothing that you and I together cannot do.' " 

The love to which Jesus calls us is an inclusive love that helps us to see others as part of God's family.  A rabbi asked his disciples how one could tell when the night had ended and the day had dawned. One replied eagerly, "It happens when you see an animal at a distance and you are able to tell whether it is a cow or a horse." The rabbi shook his head in disappointment. A second disciple said, "Day has begun when you can distinguish an oak tree from a cottonwood tree." Again the rabbi gave a thumbs down. "How then, Rabbi, would you tell?" they asked. He replied simply: "Day has begun when you look in the face of a stranger and there see a brother or a sister. But if you cannot do this, it still remains night." 

In his book, Who Speaks For God? Jim Wallis tells about a reporter who was covering the conflict in Sarajevo. He saw a little girl shot by a sniper. He rushed to a man who was holding the child and helped them both into his car. As the reporter raced to the hospital, the man in the back seat said, "Hurry, my friend, my child is still alive." A little later he said, "Hurry, my friend, my child is still breathing." Still later he said, "Hurry, my friend, my child is still warm." Finally, he said, "Hurry. Oh, God, my child is getting cold." When they got to the hospital, the little girl was dead. The man who had been holding the child then said to the reporter, "This is a terrible task for me. I must go and tell her father that his child is dead. He will be heartbroken." The reporter was puzzled and responded, "I thought she was your child." The man looked at him and said, "No, but aren't they all our children?" 

They are all our children. They are all God's children, and Christ has chosen us to love them. Can we do it? Can we witness to God's presence in life? Can we demonstrate our faith authentically enough to attract people to Christ? Maybe not, if we are left to our own devices. But Jesus indicates that there is a power available to help us move beyond ourselves and our own interests. That power he calls paraclete. It is a Greek word, translated variously as comforter, counselor, advocate, helper. Literally, it means "one called to our side to help." One understanding of the word is that it comes from ancient warfare. When Greek soldiers went into combat they went in pairs, so that when the enemy attacked they could draw together back-to-back, covering each other's blind side. One's battle partner was the paraclete. What one cannot accomplish alone can be accomplished because we have a helper, the Holy Spirit of God. We have been chosen to be on the team, but God himself is the backup. Let's get involved in the game.

Sermons for Sundays after Pentecost, by David G. Rogne