John 15:1-17 · The Vine and the Branches
Soul Testing Kits
John 15:1-8
Sermon
by Mary Austin
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In this Easter season, we return to the scriptures where Jesus is saying goodbye to the people closest to him. They happen before his death, but they also have special meaning in the Easter season. Soon, the people who followed Jesus were going to have to live without him in their midst, in the same way that we do. We live with his resurrected presence. Here, he was giving them instructions about how to live in the world without him right there. Jesus was speaking, and he said:

‘I am the true vine, and my Father is the vine-grower. 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. Whoever does not abide in me is thrown away like a branch and withers; such branches are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned. If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask for whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. My Father is glorified by this, that you bear much fruit and become my disciples. (John 15:1-8)

A friend of mine, happily married for 25 years or so, has moved a number of times for her husband’s work. Every time they move, they look at houses together. He diligently checks for the right number of bedrooms and bathrooms and evaluates how long the drive to work is. She looks at how the light falls, how the rooms flow together, how the house “feels” to her.

She can’t understand how he could possibly consider some places just fine, and he’s baffled about why she’s turning down perfectly good houses. Perhaps this happens in your family, too.

Each of them wants to be sure the house will be a happy home for their family, and each of them thinks something different will make that happen. And maybe each of them is right. For him, if there are enough bedrooms and bathrooms, then the love of the family will make it a happy place to be. For her,  if the light falls right and the tree outside  is welcoming, then everyone will feel good in the house, and it will become a home for them.

Who knows?

The process of becoming at home someplace is different for each of us. As I look back at the places I’ve lived over the years, the happiness I felt in each place didn’t have much to do with bathrooms. An apartment in Washington, DC, after college, full of the energy and excitement   of the city, where I lived with a dear friend, now gone on to heaven. The first house my husband and I lived in after we were married was a drafty rental house, with a basement so filled with spiders that we finally closed the door and left it to them …but we could hear the sound of the ocean waves at night, and smell the sea on the wind. Our next house was a tiny little bungalow, but our days were filled with the sweetest little baby ever.

Many of us will live in different apartments, houses, senior- residences, and even nursing homes over the years. Each place tells us something about our lives. The house where we raise the kids. The house we move out of, when it becomes too big. The house where we finally get the garden just the way we want it. The house where we remember the magic of childhood — or its terrors. The house of the unhappy marriage. The house where we face illness. The house we can’t afford but buy to impress someone. The house where we never feel safe. Jesus was talking about another kind of home in this passage, when he said, “abide in me.” Live in me, he said, and he wants us to know that our true home is in him. This passage comes right after the familiar words we hear often at funerals, where Jesus comforts his friends by assuring them that in God’s house, there are many dwelling places, or mansions, or a home for everyone. He continued that idea here, assuring us that we are rooted in God. Our deepest home is in the home of the divine, the heart of love, the place of infinite grace.

Jesus said an interesting thing about God here. He told us that this is not a God who demands, who is angry or vengeful, or who offers harsh judgment. This is a God who wants connection to humankind. This is a God who invites us to come home, and rest.

Jesus told us about the life of community here, too. We are all tangled up with each other, just like vines who twist around each other and can’t be separated. As Gail O’Day wrote about this passage [in the Interpretation Commentary]: “To live as the branches of the vine is to belong to an organized unity shaped by the love of Jesus. The individual branch is subsumed into the communal work of bearing fruit...” In other words, if you won’t want to bear fruit, that’s not just about you — it matters to everyone because we’re all connected as branches on the same vine. What each one of us does matters to everyone else here.

Just like “home” feels different for each one of us, the connection with God is different for each one of us. We have the same root, and we are different branches. Some of us find God in silence ...or in the beauty of hiking or camping ...or in the still, quiet moments of the morning. Others of us hear God clearly through other people or see God’s energy when people work together on projects. Others of us see the tenderness of God as we teach Sunday school, serve meals, or sit next to a small person and read a book. Still others know that the voice of God sounds through music.

We change over time, too.

Our branches grow and we need different things. We have the same root in God, but we grow in different ways. For myself, the older I get, the more I long for times of silence to listen for God speaking and know that I have to build those into life. I’m sure you’ve seen changes in your own connection with God over time, too.

Recently, I was out driving around in the country, and I may have been driving a little too fast because I passed a store advertising — I swear — “Soul Testing Kits.” What would be in a soul testing kit, I found myself wondering? Hardship, which tests the soul, for sure — or loss? Realizing we’re not who we thought we were? There might be disappointing behavior from other people or being on the receiving end of lies and betrayal. It could be discrimination or a time when God feels distant, and we struggle to get the connection back.

That’s the pruning that Jesus is talking about — the life events and experiences that cut away our false selves, test our character and reveal our flaws. Life prunes us all, and we can become bitter and resentful, or we can use it for growth. The events that shape our spirits, rein us in or stretch us are the very things that make for growth. God comes along, too, to prune out the old habits that don’t work anymore, or the character flaws that get in our way.

God who won’t leave us like we are. Where we need it, God will come along to trim us and prune us, to make us grow better and more abundantly. You wise gardeners already know how that works. It’s hard to believe that cutting off something perfectly good will make the plant healthier in the long run. You can’t even tell right away, either. Between the pruning and the growth, there’s a long time of trust ...or worry ...until something new begins to grow.

I suspect that’s another part of abiding in Jesus. We come back there to rest after being pruned by life. We can stand the pruning process because we know where we belong, and know we have a home in God. We know that God is growing something in us, and so we can embrace the snipping and cutting and stripping away, knowing that we will bear more fruit afterward.

And so, following the resurrected Jesus, we make our home in God.

We are rooted here, welcomed here, and can rest here. In this home, we are fed for the work of serving the world. Of all the places we will live over the years, nothing can match this home. This connection with the Risen Christ is our truest, and most lasting home, the place where we always are at home.

In Jesus’ name, Amen.

CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Ashes at the coffee shop, resurrection at the bus stop: sermons for Lent and Easter based on the gospel text, by Mary Austin