The story is told of an elderly woman who walked into a local country church. The friendly usher greeted her at the door and helped her up the flight of steps. “Where would you like to sit?” he asked politely. “The front row, please,” she answered. “Oh, you don't really want to sit there,” the usher said, “The pastor is really boring, and he might see you dozing.”
With that, the woman inquired, “Do you happen to know who I am?” “No,” he said. “Well, I'm the pastor's mother,” she replied indignantly. “Do you know who I am?” the usher asked. “No,” she said. “Good,” he answered, and with that he slipped down the aisle and melted into the crowd. Do you see how important it is that we know one another? Now, no one could doubt that Jesus knows who we are and what we are all about, but do we truly know Him? To illustrate the depths of this, let's take this time to turn to the powerful picture of Jesus as the True Vine.
Herbert Lockyer, in considering this truth, suggests, “Solemnity is attached to this most descriptive title taken from the fruit-bearing world, because it is intimately connected with the last symbol Jesus applied to Himself while He was on this earth. How gifted He was in the use of a natural object for the purpose of illustrating truth! The way in which the figure of speech is worked out, and the wealth of spiritual meaning that is associated with it, show how calm and trustful Jesus must have been as He entered the dark cloud of desolation to secure our redemption from sin.” Yes, it might very well be true—did He save the best until last? When He performed His first miracle of changing water into wine in Cana, the people were amazed—He had saved the best until last! Near the close of His ministry, I wonder if there was something He saw that night that sparked this thought of the True Vine. Perhaps earlier in that day He had seen the engraved vine over the porch of the temple. Maybe He was inspired as He sat with His disciples in the upper room, and He took the cup that was filled with the fruit of the vine. Or it could have been as they made their way to the Garden of Gethsemane—and even to its very entrance—a place of solitude and solemnity, filled with olive trees and even grapevines. Yes, any of these may have played their role, but the essence of it goes way back into the Old Testament.
You see, the word, “true,” in the Greek, signifies something to be genuine, sincere, real, and even veracious. In John 15:1, we are told—”I am the true vine, and my Father is the husbandman.” Just by saying He is the true one, indirectly points to one that has been false. He was the Divine Vine in contrast to Israel, the fruitless vine. Isaiah explains just how much effort the Lord put into this vine, as well as the result of it—”My well-beloved hath a vineyard in a very fruitful hill. And He fenced it, and gathered out the stones thereof, and planted it with the choicest vine, and built a tower in the midst of it, and also made a winepress therein: and He looked that it should bring forth grapes, and it brought forth wild grapes.” (Isaiah 5:1-2) In the Hebrew, this “wild” refers to being filled with stench, and even poison. The implication is that of total rebellion and unruliness towards God—it is their fault, not God's!
It is so grievous to the Lord, He asks, “What could have been done more to my vineyard, that I have not done in it?” (vs. 4a) Love, mercy, and grace abounded, and still they demanded their own ways. But Israel is not the only vine in the vineyard—what about so much of the church today? So many think that entertainment, glitzy promotional campaigns, and psychology are the new ways to get the gospel across to people. But how can the ways of the world accomplish the work of the Lord? They can't—they just become a slick and alluring replacement for the Holy Spirit. Oh, we can still claim to want—and even need—the Holy Spirit, but then we often go about it in our own way, depending on our own natural abilities. There is no doubt—we are in great need of a baptism of Holy Spirit and fire—a consuming fire that burns away our ideas, plans, and agendas, leaving nothing but His. (Mt. 3:11) After all, He never expects us to actually produce the fruit—we are called to bear it. Hosea 14:8 tells us, “From me is thy fruit found.” It is interesting—if not puzzling—that both the true and the false vines have the same Father as their Husbandman, and yet their fruit are exact opposites.
So why is that? The Jews have a tradition that the vine was first planted by God's own hands on the fertile slopes of Hebron. So why didn't it all work out? Hosea 10:1-2 explains—”Israel is an empty vine, he bringeth forth fruit unto himself...Their heart is divided; now shall they be found faulty...” Yes, they were empty in that they did not have singleness of purpose—the Lord Himself. James, Jesus' own brother, once wrote, “If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him. But let him ask in faith, nothing wavering. For he that wavereth is like a wave of the sea driven with the wind and tossed. For let not that man think that he shall receive any thing of the Lord. A double minded man is unstable in all of his ways.” (1:5-8) Do you see the need to be about the Lord and His ways His way? We have got to stop acting on our own plans, giving them the stamp of God's approval when it is really a matter of our own selfish desires. Singleness of purpose—God's purpose—is just as stable and reliable as you can get.
And what is the key? Do you remember what Hosea said? He said the vine was empty. I don't think that is just referring to the lack of big, luscious bunches of grapes; I think it speaks of the inside of the vine as well. Yes, the place where the life giving sap flows. Jesus said, “Every branch in me that beareth not fruit He taketh away: and every branch that beareth fruit, He purgeth it, that it may bring forth more fruit.” (John 15:2) Did you catch the part about “in me?” If we will be branches in Him—allowing for the same life-giving sap to flow through us as flows through Him—there will be an abundance of good, ripe fruit, and not just an “empty” vine. How do we get to that point? Notice, there is a “purging”; in other words, a cleansing or pruning. It is not just a matter of cutting out the dead wood; it goes far beyond that. Pruning takes out living branches in order that the remaining branches can flourish even more. Christianity is not just a matter of cutting out the blatant sins and vices, but rather, as I mentioned earlier, a burning away of even “good” things, so that we are only left with God's best. True Christianity is not empty religion, depending on lifeless ritual and a legalistic, perfunctory doing of things. Genuine Christianity is not a matter of people trying to work their way to God, but a matter God coming to us in the person of the Lord Jesus Christ to save us. This is what I mean when I say that Christianity is not a “religion”; it is a relationship with the Lord of Glory.
Praise God, Jesus went on—”Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, except it abide in the vine; no more can ye, except ye abide in me. I am the vine, ye are the branches: He that abideth in me, and I in him, the same bringeth forth much fruit: for without me ye can do nothing.” (15:3-5) Yes, that's the promise, but here is the warning—”If a man abide not in me, he is cast forth as a branch, and is withered; and men gather them, and cast them into the fire, and they are burned.” (vs. 6) And now, back to the quintessential promise—”If ye abide in me, and my words abide in you, ye shall ask what ye will, and it shall be done unto you. Herein is my Father glorified, that ye bear much fruit; so shall ye be my disciples. As the Father hath loved me, so have I loved you: continue ye in my love.” (vss. 7-9) Do you see it? This abiding is a very strong concept, referring to a deep sense of indwelling and ongoing expectancy and anticipation. It is the indwelling Spirit of Christ through the power of the Holy Spirit. Without it, we will whither away spiritually. Remember this—every withered branch used to thrive on the indwelling sap of the life of God that filled it, but now it doesn't. Do you see the need for the continual abiding of which Jesus speaks? Verses 10 and 11 conclude the story—”If ye keep my commandments, ye shall abide in my love...These things have I spoken unto you, that my joy might remain in you, and that your joy might be full.” Yes, Jesus already knows us, but do we really know Him? No, it's not boring; this relationship can only become more and more exciting. Yes, there will be dark days ahead—there were for Jesus; there will be for His people—but we can come through them calm and trustful with Him living within us. Perhaps He did save the best for last—He is the Divine Vine!
