SERMON
Cut to the Quick
John 15:1-8
Pastor Robyn Hogue May 3, 2015
Skyline Presbyterian Church
Some of the language
nuance is lost in the translation from Greek to English in this passage. Listen
to this more literal version of these verses from John: Jesus says, “I am the
true vine, and God is like a gardener who lovingly and carefully tends the vineyard
garden. The gardener wants the vineyard to grow and be prosperous so a branch
that bears no fruit is removed. Every branch that bears fruit is carefully
pruned, constructively, and surgically to make it bear more fruit. You, all of
you together, are my much loved faithful ones. You continue to be pruned and
washed clean by the word that I speak to you. Live forever in me as I have
promised to live forever in you. You know that a branch cannot bear fruit by
itself unless it is intimately connected to the vine, so neither can you live
wholly and completely unless you live forever connected to me.
I am the vine, you are
the branches. Those who live forever in me and I in them will always, always
bear an abundance of good fruit, because apart from me you can’t do a darn
thing and all existence becomes nothing but weeds. Why would you choose NOT to
live forever in me and become like dead wood? God is overjoyed by this, that
you receive pruning in love, that and you grow and bear good fruit, and that
you are my friends forever and ever.”
The verb translated
“to abide” or “to stay connected” literally means to do so forever, into eternity. It is action with ongoing intention. Jesus
says to “live forever” in Him. He has already promised to “live forever” in us,
and we can trust Jesus to keep His word.
Jesus uses the
metaphor of a gardener to describe our relationship with God. He says, “I am
the true vine, and God is like one who lovingly and carefully tends the
vineyard garden. The gardener wants the vineyard to grow and be prosperous so
every branch that bears no fruit is removed from the vine. Every branch that
bears fruit is carefully pruned, constructively, and surgically to make it bear
more fruit.”
Perhaps you think of
God working in the garden on a beautiful day like yesterday, trimming a bit
here, pinching a tiny bit there. That works well. What also works well is
thinking about God as a gardener who grieves while watching a violent storm rip
through the beloved garden. Afterward, the gardener tenderly prunes back the
injured plants in order to guarantee survival and to restore beauty and harmony.
In this case, it is best to not confuse pruning with the crises of the storms
which overtake us. Pruning has more to do with clearing away the debris those
crises leave behind.
And there’s a
particular form of crisis that continually calls for pruning. It’s the
self-imposed crisis. It’s when we mess up. It’s when we sin that we need pruned
the most (Walter Wink, "Abiding, Even Under the Knife," Christian
Century, April 20, 1994).
I don’t know how your
mother or father handled discipline, but my mother was pretty good at it. Let’s
just say we gave her lots of practice. My mother was very good at staying calm
and with a very non-anxious voice she trim back the unwanted behavior. But that
wasn’t the good part. The good part was that the way my mother practiced the
art of accountability. Her criticism was always to the point. The sin was
clearly pointed out. But there was also affirmation of some good that I could
build upon. In other words, my mother would prune me. She would acknowledge my
inherent worth and help me clear away the debris in my life, the things that
were unhealthy and only holding me back.
Needless to say, this
was not always a painless procedure, nor did I immediately appreciate her skill
at the moment. Discipline is not a painless procedure, but nothing that
involves a pruning knife ever is. However, there’s a big difference in the way
a knife is handled. There’s a big difference in the kind of knife used! My
mother’s acts of pruning were more surgical scalpel than slashing machete, for
which I am very grateful.
And yet we all know
what it’s like to have someone come at us with the slashing machete. Criticism
which is not constructive, when it’s brought with malice, when it is used to
tear down instead of to build up, leaves us bruised and bloodied.
Intellectually we may know that this unconstructive criticism is without merit
and should be dismissed, but that doesn’t stop it from hurting.
There’s another aspect
of this which is true as well: When we are called upon to be critical, do we
seek to prune in love? If God’s tender growth-producing pruning is the model,
then that is what we should expect from one another and what we should extend
to one another.
But it’s more than
just a message to the individual. When Jesus says, “You are the branches,” that
“you” is plural. Together we are a branch. Another way of hearing this is that
God is pruning us, Christ-followers, Skyline, the Presbyterian Church (USA),
the church universal. And the good news here at Skyline is that I think it is
working!
The good news is that
God desires for this church to continue to grow and be productive, both
spiritually and numerically. God desires that our good fruit, our acts of
ministry and mission, grow and become more effective, more productive and more
prolific. There’s more good news in the fact that we do not do this alone. The
presence of God is already among us, providing everything we need.
Jesus says, “Live
forever in me as I have promised to live forever in you.” This is how we work
together with Christ to make good things happen. Our unity with Christ fosters
an environment of trust in which we are open to God’s pruning, we are open to
the constructive criticism that Christ works among us to grow this church and
make us more faithfully productive.
My mother sometimes
used the phrase “cut to the quick” in referring to what she had to do when one
of us got in trouble. “Cut to the quick” means, literally, to cut through to
the living tissue; cut through to the living part, the “quickened” part.
To be cut to the quick
can mean to be stung by someone’s harsh criticism, but that’s not what my
mother meant. I was her well-loved child and she believed what she was doing to
be the necessary pruning I needed in order to be the best and most faithful
person I could be. And this is exactly what God does with us.
Ancient liturgies can
and do function to cut us to the quick. It is an act of pruning in which,
through prayer and confession, we are held accountable; through which we’re
called upon to offer up the debris of our lives to be cut away — all the while
knowing, believing, that the God we know most fully through Jesus Christ loves
us and cares for us like a mother loves and cares for her children.
God’s Word read in the
Scriptures and proclaimed in sermon and song also prune us, as do the
Sacraments of Baptism and the Lord’s Supper. All of these things come together
in love to build us up, not tear us down. God’s pruning is an act of love that
is meant to extol life not extinguish it, commend life not condemn it, protect
life not punish it.
Here’s the thing I
want you to take home today: If I’m hearing the Spirit through this passage
today, the Holy Spirit is asking us to receive God’s pruning not with fear and
resistance, but with a new found sense of gratitude and appreciation. May we
come to experience God’s pruning in our individual lives and in our shared life
together as means to participate in the abundant life God offers us. May our
lives bring the Gardener joy.