Branching out while staying put
An “old” word in many respects, abide is a word we don’t use or hear very often these days, which is too bad, because it is such a good word. If you were to take a moment and look it up in the dictionary, you would discover this good “old” word has several meanings, among them: to put up with, to tolerate, or to endure. I remember my grandmother saying things like, “I cannot abide that kind of behavior.” Abide also means to accept, as in “I will abide by the decision the group has made.” The meaning I am most drawn to, however is this one: to abide is to stay, to remain with, to dwell with, to continue. Abiding is what we as people of faith are called to do when it comes to relating to our Creator and the One who was sent so that we might experience life in all its fullness.
In the Gospel of John, chapter 15, the word “abide” appears numerous times as Jesus describes how we are to live in relation to him. “I am the vine, and you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit …” One need not be a gardener with a green thumb to know that branches or stems disconnected from the main vine or source of life eventually die. Cut flowers are beautiful but short lived. Abiding in Jesus is about staying connected, staying put, so that we might bear the sweet and life-giving fruit that is love.
Not to be equated with stagnating or treading water, nor with the staying put that some engage in to avoid stepping out of their comfort zone and trying new things, abiding — at its best — is about deepening and growing. It requires focus, discipline and intentionality, along with a willingness to allow the vine grower to “prune” us when necessary. Ouch! That sounds painful, and sometimes it is, but without pruning, we will never realize our full potential as persons created in God’s image.
When I visited a farm just outside of Gettysburg recently, and listened to its owner describe the extensive pruning he had done in order to assure that his apple, plum, cherry, peach, pear and apricot trees bore the sweetest and best fruit possible, it became clearer to me than ever before just how important pruning is. To the unknowing person, pruning appears destructive. It may even look like it is killing the plant or tree being pruned, yet removing what is no longer life-giving ultimately leads to growth, branching out, and wonderful new possibilities.
When we are talking about God pruning us as people of faith, the end result is a better and richer life than we could ever have imagined. Note: I did not say pruning leads to an easier life or a carefree life or a life in which everything turns out just the way we had planned. Pruning often involves letting go of the relationships and things we are absolutely persuaded we cannot do without in order to take hold of the life God has in store for us. It involves trusting God enough to believe that God sees a bigger picture than we do and has a plan that is more encompassing and far-reaching than we can fathom. Ultimately, pruning enables us to bear the fruit that is sweeter than all others — the fruit that is love. This love allows us to see God in the most unlikely persons and places and fills us with the capacity to be as concerned about our neighbor’s wellbeing as we are about our own. All of this begins with abiding — staying put — so that we might deepen our relationship with the Vine and the Vine Grower. May we have the courage to do just that so God’s power might come alive within us!