Abiding in the Vine

Sunday, April 28, 2024 – John 15:1-8 Also Acts 8:26-40, Psalm 22:25-31, 1 John 4:7-21

Back in the winter of 2010, I drove from the southside of Chicago where I lived in Hyde Park and attended the Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago to the Catholic seminary in Mundelein, IL to present my first biblical paper at a student research conference. It was a snowy day, and I trudged in my heavy winter coat to the room where we were supposed to gather. I quickly realized that I was only one of two women in the room holding about fifty people.

All of the men – young students and older professors – were dressed in black with white priestly collars. You could say that I stuck out like a sore thumb. Remember those grammar school exercises where you had to circle the elements that didn’t belong? That’s kind of the way I felt.

I don’t remember what I was wearing, but I’m sure it included color. When I went to the podium to give my paper, I joked that I must have missed the memo on the dress code of black and white. I’m not sure anyone laughed. It was a tough room. What I do remember is the warm reception I got from one man, the professor who had organized the event. At a time when I didn’t feel like I belonged, his welcoming gestures of friendship really meant a lot, and encouraged me to share what I had come to say.

One thing I have found to be true in my life is that in most every circumstance, relationship and friendship really matter; they can mean the difference between belonging and isolation, and even between faith and doubt. In fact, our readings for today have relationship at their core. As Paul Nancarrow writes, these lessons show us that

relationship is the irreducible where of all faith and practice.”

Our first reading from the book of Acts begins with the angel of the Lord whispering instructions to Philip and ends with the Spirit whisking him away once his mission has been completed. These bookending symbols are almost like when we hear the words, “Once upon a time…” at the beginning of a fairy tale. They tell us that there is more happening here than our typical human to human interactions. There is something holy going on here that is set within divine relationship.

Philip is sent by the angel to the wilderness road headed out of Jerusalem. Wilderness roads were not generally safe and were often the site of robberies. So right off the bat, Philip is sent out beyond the safe bounds of his normal life. We also learn that the man in the chariot is a court official of the Ethiopian queen, that he’s in charge of her treasury, and that he’s a eunuch. This Ethiopian man – for the sake of dignity, let’s give him a name and call him Simeon – is reading the book of Isaiah.

When Philip asks Simeon if he understands what he’s reading, he admits that he doesn’t because he’s had no teacher. In other words, he has no community of faith. Why is that? It may be because eunuchs were forbidden from entering holy places because they were considered “unclean.” On the one hand, Simeon is a very powerful man controlling the treasury of a foreign country and riding high above Philip in his chariot. But on the other hand, he’s alone when it comes to matters of faith. There are places to which he’s not invited, places where he doesn’t belong. But when he takes a step toward relationship by inviting Philip to join him in his chariot, a whole new life opens up for him.

Within this container of divine and human relationship, Philip tells the story of Jesus and Simeon is deeply moved. So much so that when he sees water he boldly asks to be baptized. The chariot is stopped and both men go down into the water. Philip is then taken away to another mission, and Simeon is raised to new life in Christ.

In our second reading, we see that the Christian life must be centered in relational love. We learn that we are empowered to love because God first loved us, and that those who love abide in God. Again, relationship and active love are at the center of the life of faith. In fact, we’re told that we can’t claim to love God if we hate our brothers and sisters. We cannot see God, but we can see our neighbors, and so we must be willing to love and befriend them. To help them to feel like they belong.

If we’re honest, we have to admit that it can be pretty hard to love certain people. In fact, I’d say that the reason we can go beyond our petty complaints about other people is because we’re empowered to love when we abide in God. In fact, it’s in that loving that we know and experience God. As Nancarrow writes,

There is no knowledge of God apart from relationships with sisters and brothers in whom God abides.”

This idea of relationship as the heart of faith and practice is given a clear image in our gospel reading, where John uses the metaphor of Jesus as the Vine, God as the Vinegrower, and believers as the branches. In calling himself the Vine, Jesus reminds his disciples that it is only within this relational field that they can even be disciples because apart from him they can do nothing.

When we center ourselves in relationship with our Source of life and love and allow that Love to flow through us like the Vine giving lifeforce to its branches, we can then reach out and love one another, and bear good fruit. But listen closely to what is said here about bearing fruit. Those branches that don’t bear fruit are pruned and thrown into the fire. Any gardener knows that the branches that sap the life of the vine for no good reason just hurt the whole. But we see that even the branches that do bear fruit are pruned, so they can bear even more fruit.

I’ve had experiences of pruning. I’m sure you have too, and they aren’t fun. Today, every church is called, I think, to ask itself: what branches are no longer bearing fruit and what branches need to be pruned to bear more fruit? What does it even mean for the church to bear fruit today?

I think we bear fruit when we reach out to give more love, to connect more people to the life of God, to build friendship, to help others feel like they belong and that they matter to someone and to God.

Our God is the very heart of relationship, the Spirit who connects us to everything in the cosmos. God is the web of life that holds us.

As St. Paul writes, there is nothing that can separate us from the love of God. God is love, love is relationship, and God constantly and consistently reaches toward the world in an outpouring of love. So, when we reach toward others in love, we are living within the divine life of God, we are abiding in Christ.

How can we look for more ways to reach out to others in love?