“Unity: The Sweetest Fruit”
John 15:1-8
Allen Huff
Jonesborough Presbyterian Church
4/29/18
I
am the true vine, and my Father is the vinegrower. 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. (NRSV)
While all the
gospels have particular emphases, John’s version of Jesus’ life seems particularly
intentional and purposed. I say that because, as the latest and most theologically
dense gospel, John reads like a narrative missive – a long epistle written in
story form. The author writes to encourage, challenge, and transform a
spiritual community struggling in a brutal and uncaring world. John distills his
Christo-centric intent for that community in the Farewell Discourse. This discourse runs from the end of chapter 13
through end of chapter 16. In it, Jesus prepares his disciples to live as followers
of one who comforts, guides, and redeems through a unique presence. All the
gospels call that presence Resurrection.
Following Paul, Matthew, and Luke, John also calls it the Holy Spirit.
At the end of chapter 13, Jesus
gives his “new commandment.” “Just as I have loved you, you also should love
one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples.” (John 13:34-35)
In chapter 14, Jesus tells his
disciples that love itself is faithfulness to all the commandments. And the
disciples’ love for each other is Jesus’
own prayer for the world. He connects his extraordinary love to the presence of
the Spirit. You will know the Spirit,
says Jesus, “because he abides with you, and he will be in you.” (John 14:15-17)
In chapter 15, Jesus alludes to the
persecution of the early church when he says, “If the world hates you, be aware
that it hated me before it hated you.” (John 15:18)
The Discourse ends in chapter 16 when Jesus says, “I have said this to
you, so that in me you may have peace. In the world you face persecution. But
take courage; I have conquered the world!” (John 16:33)
John is
telling his version of Jesus’ story to an audience who is enduring relentless adversity.
And he urges his readers to abide in Jesus who abides in them.
A problem arises: Ever since
Constantine, these kinds of texts have been used to manipulate people with fear.
The basic message has been: To get to heaven, you must believe certain things
certain ways. If you fail to do so, for whatever reason, God, who loves you
very much, will throw into hell.
Over the last 1700 years, the
institutional Church and all manner of governments have welcomed that teaching,
because fear creates an uncritical submission among the masses. While it presents
as purity and passion, it breeds a shallow and narrow pride that only looks like loyalty and courage. But fear
is the devil’s forge. And pride is acid in the eyes of the heart. They diminish
this boundless and diverse creation to immediate surroundings and comfortable
arrangements. And by associating God with the desires and prejudices of particular
individuals and groups, especially powerful
individuals and homogenous groups, fear
and pride reduce the Creator of the universe to an idol, to a projection of
human frailty – our bigotry, our fault-finding, our vengeance.
The gospel is good news because it declares
that the limited and limiting world of fear, pride, and retribution – that is the world which Jesus conquers. The
whole Farewell Discourse reminds the community
of disciples that God, in Jesus, through the power of the Holy Spirit, has
called us to lives of invitation and welcome, lives of discipleship and
service, lives of vulnerability and trust, lives of transformed and
transforming agape love.
Followers of Jesus are called to live
all aspects of life in relationship to him. Baptism reminds us that before we
draw a breath, God grafts us into the Vine. “Everything that the
Father gives me will come to me,” says Jesus, “and anyone who comes to me I
will never drive away.” (John 6:37) Over and over, Jesus remains
faithful to that promise. He never gives up on those whom he has called. He
doesn’t cut them off or drive them away. Indeed, his forgiveness reaches beyond
the acrimony of the Jewish leaders who hand him over to Pilate, beyond the
ignorance of the soldiers who execute him, beyond the fear of the followers who
betray and abandon him.
The standard to which we are called
is far more demanding than maintaining some conspicuous but superficial morality.
As intolerable as it may be to high priests and Pharaohs, Jesus calls us to a
bold yet humble witness on behalf of the creation, and especially on behalf of
those who are poor, exploited, and forgotten. The vision and courage for that
witness come as fruits of abiding in the Vine who abides in us.
Consider these words. In what do
they abide?
“O Lord, unless we
acknowledge You as Lord with living faith and lasting reverence, we go adrift. You
have raised us and reared us…[Yet,] there are times when we do not know where
to turn unless we truly belong to You…In those times, is it You we fear and
cannot face? Or is it the truth about ourselves? Strengthen us that we may be
drawn into the truth by You…”
“Grant
us the courage to become whom You have called us to be – our better selves.”
“Your Word provokes Isaiah
to cry out to the people: If only we were free enough to be raised up by its
power or strong enough to be embraced by its full passion. Then we, like
Isaiah, would be able to hear in our broadcasted news the voice of violence
coming from our own children, and we would lament as a nation searching for
prophetic vision until we and our ways…change.”1
These are excerpts from recent
prayers by The Rev. Patrick Conroy, Jesuit priest and former chaplain to the US
House of Representatives. He was fired this month for politicizing his prayers.2
The prayer that began to seal his fate came last November when Conroy prayed:
“As legislation on
taxes continues to be debated this week and next, may all Members be mindful
that the institutions and structures of our great Nation guarantee the opportunities
that have allowed some to achieve great success, while others continue to
struggle. May their efforts these days guarantee that there are not winners and
losers under new tax laws, but benefits balanced and shared by all Americans.”3
Forgive me if
I sound naïve, but those sound like the words of a disciple of Jesus. It feels
to me that Rev. Conroy found himself severed from the legislative branch of
government because he sought to remain a fruitful branch of the true Vine. But
speaking truth to power is always dangerous.
I don’t believe that God severs us from Jesus. I think God prunes the
deadwood of our fear, pride, and greed. And we relinquish those things only by
dying to self and rising to Christ.
Whether suffering the trials of the
first or the twenty-first century, John presents his readers with a vigorously
purposed image of Jesus as the living and present Lord, the unique embodiment
of God. And through the power of Resurrection, his creative and redeeming love
abides eternally in us, for the sake of the world.
As a Christian community of prayer,
fellowship, and service, our unity does not depend on unanimous opinion regarding
taxes, health care, or immigration. Ours is a unity of mission. No matter how people
become poor, or sick, or how they become our neighbors, Jesus calls us to join hands,
to help provide for them, to comfort them, to welcome them, and to work side-by-side
with them. That’s how we witness to Resurrection. That’s how we make Jesus’
love visible and palpable.
While often fragile, unity is the sweetest
fruit of our abiding in Jesus, and he in us, to the glory of God the Father.
1Rev. Conroy’s prayers, and those of others, may be
found on the Chaplain’s archive: https://chaplain.house.gov/archive/index.html
2For an opinion piece on Rev. Conroy’s dismissal, see:
https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/the-poor-dont-have-a-prayer-in-todays-washington/2018/04/27/70f52bd8-4a43-11e8-8b5a-3b1697adcc2a_story.html?noredirect=on&utm_term=.e2659a285554
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