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hile
living in the south of France during my junior year of college, I had several
occasions to travel around the countryside, to visit and see things I had only
read about but never thought I would actually experience in my lifetime. I remember passing through the French
countryside with rolling hills, valleys, and lush, fertile fields. I also distinctly remember the first time I
saw a vineyard from the window of a train.
It was one of the most amazing things I had ever seen.
As
the train rolled through open country, it passed through what seemed to be
endless rows of grape vines. As far as
the eye could see in every direction there was nothing but grapes. It was the harvest season and hundreds of
workers were in the fields cutting off the ripened bunches by hand and placing
them into baskets which were then transferred to trucks or carts. These
luscious clusters were bound for the winery where they would be milked of their
precious juice and turned into wine destined for tables the world over.
However,
one of the most fascinating things about these vineyards was not the number of
grapes they produced, nor their size, nor even the number of workers in the
field. What was truly amazing was the care given to the vines. They were
protected, guarded, and tended to with the same affection that a father has for
his children. They wanted for nothing
and were given every opportunity to grow and mature into healthy,
grape-producing plants.
But
on occasion, the head of the vineyard would come along, take a pair of shears,
and cut whole branches from the vine. In
some instances he would cut the vine back to the stalk, meaning it would not
produce any fruit for several years.
This seemed odd; almost like cutting one’s nose off to spite one’s
face. These vineyards were the source of
income and livelihood for several families.
Cutting back to the vine seemed to be counterproductive. But the husbandman knew his vines much better
than I did. He knew that to get perfect
fruit--and lots of it--sometimes the vine had to be cut back to the very stalk
and allowed to grow newer, stronger branches that would produce more fruit.
Jesus
knew a lot about grapes. His first
miracle, at the wedding in Canaan , was turning
water into wine. But Jesus also
understood the role of the husbandman, or vinedresser, in relation to the
production of good grapes which led to the making of excellent wine. Jesus used the example of the vinedresser to
teach one of his greatest lessons about being one of his disciples. While the
job of the vine is to produce fruit, it is the job of the husbandman to ensure
the branches are fit to produce perfect grapes and lots of them. Sometimes this means the branches have to be
pruned, cut back, in order to grow stronger and more productive.
We
read these words from Jesus in John
15:1-2, “I am the true vine, and My
Father is the vine dresser. Every branch in Me that does not bear fruit, He takes
away; and every branch that bears fruit, He prunes it so that it may bear more
fruit.” Notice the three distinct
roles in this brief statement. First,
Jesus is the vine. The vine produces everything the branches need. It is their
source of life, of food, of strength, of water, and as long as they are
attached to the vine, they grow, they live, and they produce fruit.
Second,
there are the branches. These represent
the believers and followers of Christ. The job of the branches is to produce
fruit and lots of it. As Christian
believers, we are to produce fruit that is pleasing to the eye and wonderful to
the taste. People should see our lives and want to know Jesus simply based on
the way we represent him. The type and
quantity of fruit we produce speaks volumes about our relationship with Jesus
and our willingness to give a strong witness for him based on our words,
actions, and deeds.
The
third role is that of the vine dresser.
His job is to prune the branches, to cut them back so they will produce
more fruit. God often works in our lives
with a pair of shears. He cuts, breaks,
and removes any part of our branches that are not producing fruit for the vine. A branch that does not produce fruit is
sapping nourishment and strength from the vine and its fellow branches. God works lovingly to remove these branches
so that all our efforts, all our thoughts, all our words, and all our actions
will produce more fruit for Jesus Christ.
The painful process of pruning the branches serves as a reminder that
the vine dresser loves the branches. He
knows the type and quantity of fruit they are capable of producing and He works
to ensure they bring forth the best fruit possible.
T
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oday,
you may find yourself under God’s pruning shears. He may be cutting away areas of your life
that have provided comfort and security for so long. He may be removing people from your life that
have been life-long companions and friends.
He does not do this as punishment or to be cruel. God knows you and He knows what it takes to
make you the most productive vine you can be.
Only the best grapes get chosen
for the choicest wines. What kind of
fruit are you producing today?
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