15. Pruning The Vine © Sarah Cunnington @ Drawn-From-The-Word

I live in the Côte du Rhône region of France and vines and vineyards are common or garden here. So when I read the words of Jesus in John 15:1-2, saying "I am the true vine, and My Father is the vinedresser." They resonate. Only the verse doesn't stop there. It goes on to say this: "Every branch in Me that does not bear fruit He takes away; and every branch that bears fruit He prunes, that it may bear more fruit.” What resonates less well is the process of pruning, the hard graft of pruning, both for the vine and the vinedresser! Hard graft indeed, but oh, so necessary. It always amazes me that one short vine stock can push out so much growth in a single year. Anyone who has planted a grape-vine in their back-yard knows this. A riot of vines and leaves will quickly cover any trellis in summer to give a dense and welcoming shade. However, the bunches of grapes that hang down from the tangled vines are likely to be small and sour. If they don't get enough sun or there's not enough sap to go round, they don't ripen well. In contrast to this wild abundance are the vineyards that clothe the lower slopes of the Jura mountains where we live. I think of one vineyard in particular. In late spring and early summer it's embellished by colourful rose bushes, planted at the end of each neat green row. In autumn, the colours change again. The vine leaves glow with a glorious array of golds, russets and rich reds, as they herald the approaching harvest. I hope the vinedresser takes time to admire all this in his endless task of trimming the vines to keep their growth in check. He must leave only selected bunches of grapes on each branch, to grow fat and sweet as they ripen in the sun. Contrast this with the vineyard in winter. Marching down the hillside are endless rows of gnarled and bare vine stocks, now pared down to two or maybe three thin shoots, clipped hard and tied to supporting wires. This job must be done by hand, an endless, back breaking, finger freezing task, but the wines are worth it! So what sort of a vine am I, are you? Are we full of exuberant, un-disciplined growth; projects that promise much but end up bearing little fruit ? If so, why is that ? As I began to reflect on the subject, my Bible fell open at Psalm 80. It speaks of the children of Israel as a vine: brought out of Egypt, planted in the ground prepared for it, but growing unchecked and untended because of their disobedience, fit only to be uprooted and burned with fire. The psalm ends with a heart-felt cry : “Restore us, O Lord God Almighty, make your face shine upon us, that we may be saved.” Restoring the vine requires hard pruning, not just from time to time, but daily. Are we ready to be pruned so that the work of Jesus can be fully displayed in us? Jesus says “If you love me, you will obey my commands”. We say “Yes, Lord, I love you, but …” So we hang on too long because we also love what we do and we love the admiration of others, the glory of our giftedness and the satisfaction of serving. Then the Lord allows a different sort of pruning. We may have to step down from a cherished position or fail to get a hoped for promotion. God may be pruning us when friends appear to abandon us, or let us down, or even when illness strikes. For a while we struggle to carry on until we eventually admit, with a greater or lesser amount of grace, that we have to stop. We lay down our ambition or our reputation, and it's as hard as laying down life itself. Remember, although no discipline seems pleasant at the time, later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it. It's the only way we'll bear the fruit of his choice. Only by dying to ourselves can we draw on the life-giving sap of the Holy Spirit, and be ripened by the light of the Son of God himself. In John 15:8, Jesus says this about the process of pruning: “This is to my Father's glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples.”