Returning to the Vine, Part Two: Loving (John 15)

Here’s last week’s message, the second part of our post-COVID series, “Returning to the Vine.” You can check out the audio and video here.

Back in March of 2020, Andy Crouch authored an important and influential article entitled, “Leading Beyond the Blizzard” directed to business and ministry leaders. He makes his point in the first sentence of the article. “We’re not going back to normal.” He argues this: if you’re treating this like a blizzard, where you hole up in your house for a week - and then reemerge after a few days into the same world - you’re not thinking about this wisely. And it’s doubtful you’ll even survive. Crouch predicted this season would be more like a long winter. Even an ice age - and would have long-standing political, economic, and cultural impact. A blizzard you can wait out. Entering an ice age, you have to rethink everything you’re doing.

“We’re not going back to normal.” But is that really a bad thing? I’m arguing in this series that the days leading up to that outbreak weren’t that great. They weren’t a beautiful time in the history of the church. In fact, they vomited out the mess we know as 2020. “Normal led to this.” 

I want to pull us back toward something that could be called vintage Christianity. The life of the church we see in the New Testament. The pathway laid out by Jesus in John 15. It’s my desire, in this three-part series, that we’d process what we’ve been through together and think about where Jesus might want to take us. Perhaps this crisis can disrupt and awaken us. Maybe growth can emerge from this struggle we’ve all been through. Last week, we heard Christ’s call to abide in Him. This week, we’ll hear Him call us to love one another. 

What’s Been Exposed

I’ll use the same outline I used last week. First, what COVID has revealed in us. The housing market has been rough as of late. Many have purchased homes without proper inspections. I sure hope you don’t end up in the situation we did - in our first house back in town. Sucking up sewage from the carpet. In the money pit of a place we ended up with. 2020 revealed what truly lurked in the pipes of the household of God. The crisis hit. Sewage spewed out. And there wasn’t a shop vac big enough in the world to get it all out.   

What symptoms have we seen? Think the opposite of 1 Corinthians 13. Impatient. Unkind. Lots of envying and boasting. Arrogant. Rude. Fighting for our own way. Irritable. Resentful. Rejoicing in the wrongdoing and downfall of others. Rejoicing in lies, especially conspiracy theories. Won’t put up with any weakness. Won’t believe the best about anyone. Won’t wish the best for anyone. Won’t tolerate much of anything. This pandemic season hasn’t looked good on us, America. So much division. So little love. 

If those are the symptoms, what’s been the disease? If this is what’s been vomited up, what have we all been eating? Well, not a biblical faith that finds its expression in loving Christian community. We’ve not been abiding in Jesus. And it’s shown. Here are some characteristics we can see in American Christianity. 

First, a faith that’s individualistic. It’s all about me, my needs, my freedoms. Who cares about others? 

Second, a faith that’s moralistic. I keep the rules I value. I look down on others who don’t agree. I judge. I mock. 

Third, a faith that’s consumeristic. I don’t come to give. I come to take. If you don’t give me the product or service I want, when I want it, I leave. You change the hours on your door, I change churches. If you say something I don’t want to hear, I go elsewhere.

Fourth, a faith that’s superficial. My trust in Christ is only skin deep. My commitment to others doesn’t amount to much. If trials rock my world, I’m out. If I don’t like what you say, I’m gone. 

This isn’t a faith that’s built on rock but on sand. And the sands have sure shifted over the past year or two, and it’s shown the American church to be what it truly is. 

Now this disease has reared its ugly head in two ways during this trying season. First, of course, is how we’ve handled COVID. The pandemic has shaken and divided our nation, and the church certainly hasn’t helped. It’s been discouraging to see so many who’ve claimed Christ as Savior and Lord lashing out. Condemning those making the laws. Condemning those complying with them. Mocking masks and vaccines. It’s been disturbing. It’s been embarrassing. Such a complete lack of love - for neighbor, but also for brother, for sister.

Second, racial justice. Following the murder of George Floyd, the nation erupted in protest. Where were so many so-called Christians? Standing on the side, as always, not listening but questioning. Not encouraging but condemning. Excusing racism in their own hearts. Denying racism in the American system. Telling our black brothers and sisters that their experience wasn’t real. Posting videos of token black people saying what white people wanted to hear. 

We couldn’t put on a mask for the sake of our neighbor. We couldn’t shut up and listen to the hurts in our brother. That’s what’s been revealed in 2020. We’ve been more concerned about our freedom and fulfillment than that of others. We’ve pushed a faith built more on self-love than love for others. 

What Jesus Offers

Second, let’s look at what Jesus calls us back into. He says, in verse one, “I am the true vine.” Jesus offers us a new, greater family. A life together among His people. 

Jesus here calls himself the “vine.” Now in doing that, He draws upon a rich, Old Testament metaphor. Who’s called “the vine” throughout those pages? The nation of Israel. Now generally, when God calls them that, He’s condemning them. For not living as God had called them. And bearing much fruit.

Jesus says, “I’m the one that Israel pointed to. I’m the true vine. I’m the better vine. I’ll bear much fruit. Unlike them. And in me, I’m bringing together a new people of God - a new vine - that will bear fruit in the world.”

He adds in verse 5, “You are the branches.” We’re together a part of this vine. I’m a branch. You’re a branch. Drawing on the life of Jesus. And all the pronouns here are plural. This isn’t you singular. This is: “Y’all are the branches.” Jesus brings us together into a new, better people of God. 

A family marked by love. Christ says this, in verses 12 and 13: “This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.” Our love is patterned after His love. It mirrors His sacrifice. But let’s mine it a bit more. Here’s a definition I put together, leaning on Paul Tripp and Robert Cheong. I think you’ll see how much different it is from what we’ve seen in 2020. 

“A work of God in the heart, rooted in His great love for us in Christ, that compels us to give ourselves for others, no matter the cost, desiring their best, regardless of how deserving, so that others would love Him more deeply.” 

“A work of God in the heart, rooted in His great love for us in Christ.” This is no superficial love. God thaws our frozen hearts by His love. That leaves our hearts pumping out affection toward those around us. We grow in understanding that love and expressing that love for the rest of our lives.

“That compels us to give ourselves for others, no matter the cost.” This is no consumeristic love. Love isn’t here to get. It’s to give. Not to consume. But to contribute. We don’t ask people to bear the cost for us. We’re here to even give up our lives, as Jesus did for us. 

“Desiring their best, regardless of how deserving.” Moralistic thinking doesn’t fit with this love. We don’t expect others to measure up. We know that we, ourselves, can’t begin to. We don’t look down on others. How can we? The Father has worked for the good of underserving sinners like us. Therefore, we want the best for them, too.

“So that others would love Him more deeply.” This is no individualistic faith. We’re here for others. I’m not just concerned about my relationship with God, but yours - and his, and hers. I’m willing to sacrifice what I want so that you and our neighbors will get to know Him, too. 

This is what love is. What we’re called to give. But, even more, what we’re blessed to receive. We all want this kind of love. We want desperately to be in a family, where we can be known for who we are. And loved into something we didn’t think we could ever be. Forgiven when we sin. Picked up when we fall. That’s what Jesus gives in this vine. That’s what the gospel does. 

Jesus calls us into this new, greater family, that’s marked by love, that’s also set apart from the world. Notice the transition in verse 18, where Jesus turns from talking about love to hatred. The main point has to do with persecution. But there’s also this contrast that’s striking. The world - it hates. But we’re to be marked by love.

Mark Dever has put it this way: “A community of mutual love must be one of the closest approximations of heaven that we can know in this fallen world.”  

As Jesus says in chapter 13, verses 34 and 35. “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” Jesus calls us to abide in His love. The love He has shared with His Father. And to be so moved by it that we love one another. And the world sees it and is drawn in. This is what Jesus offers us, church.

Things We’ve Learned

Third, what the Spirit has also taught us. There’s certainly been plenty of ugly to go around over the last couple of years. But there’s also been some beauty. We’ve been reminded that the church is a people. When in a blink of an eye, so much in the American church was shut down, I think we thought, “Well, we’ve always said we’re not just about buildings or events.” And we got down to the work of ministry. 

The relationships kept going and got stronger - even on Zoom. Sitting around a campfire. Across a driveway. I remember hearing about Anna and Jon bringing food to the Mitchell family, dropping it off at the door, sitting in their car, and talking to them via FaceTime. 

We’ve been reminded that the true people of God still love. We continue to point each other to the gospel. Especially in the face of trials. We met each other’s spiritual needs. But we also thought about physical needs.   

My wife was battling cancer throughout the whole last year, and we’ve been overwhelmed at the love of Christ. All the gifts. All the calls and notes. And all the food. Why I’m on a major diet right now! The people of Christ here were amazing.   

We were reminded how much we need each other. In every respect. But I think we forgot how much we needed to be in one another’s presence. To give and receive hugs.  To share meals with one another. Zoom was a gift. Live-streams were nice. But they weren’t nearly enough. 

It’s my hope and prayer that the Lord will use this time of absence to make our hearts grow fonder for one another. That we’d long for community again. That we wouldn’t take it for granted. That these trials would even strengthen our love. 

What God Might Do

Fourth, what our Father could be up to. Here’s one fact you might not have learned about this building we were given back in 2018. When we moved in, we literally threw away 30,000 pounds of trash. Seriously. Rob has the bills to prove it. It may be that God is using this trial we’ve been going through to clean up His church.

That’s what Jesus seems to be communicating at a couple of places in this passage. The rest of verse one says this again: “My Father is the vinedresser.” God the Father cares for the vine. Verse 2 says that God is up to a couple of things among His people. The branches that do “bear fruit, he prunes” that they might bear even more fruit. So one thing our Father is likely doing is taking churches that are somewhat healthy and cutting them back, making them even more fruitful. We, like many churches, are going to come out smaller. But with a more committed core ready to love. 

But God is also up to something else, it says. He’s judging some of the branches. That’s what the “taking away” refers to in verse 2. Verse 6 expands that thought and adds some intensity. Verse 6 tells us more. “If anyone does not abide in me he is thrown away like a branch and withers; and the branches are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned.” Churches will no doubt get smaller as non-believers - those who haven’t abided in Christ - will disappear and never return. But it could also be that God will judge churches during this time. Ones that are unhealthy and diseased.

There’s this troubling verse that has come to mind many times over the past couple of years. It’s 1 Peter 4:17. Peter’s talking about suffering through that letter, and he says, “For it is time for judgment to begin at the household of God; and if it begins with us, what will be the outcome for those who do not obey the gospel of God?” A scary thought. But here’s another. 

There’s this idea in Romans 1 about judgment. It’s not just about God taking things away we like but rather God giving us the very things that we want. There’s this phrase Paul repeats. God “gave them up.” Maybe what we’re seeing is the Lord just handing the American church over to its individualistic, consumeristic, moralistic, superficial Christianity. And that’s the dumpster fire we’re all seeing. 

But what’s the goal of God’s pruning? What specifically is He judging? Maybe our shallow concept of unity. And our lack of love. 

In his article “How to Build a Gospel Culture In Your Church,” Ray Ortlund teaches that churches can’t just preach gospel doctrine. They also need a culture that fits with it. He writes: 

“Why does this matter? Why must our churches preach gospel doctrine and embody gospel culture simultaneously, by God’s grace? 

Because faithfulness to the gospel requires more than doctrinal purity in our churches. It also requires relational beauty in our churches. But it is possible sincerely to preach true doctrine while, at the same time, utterly deny that doctrine by an ugly anti-gospel culture.” (Ray Ortlund) 

Russ Moore recently wrote explaining why he thought young Christians were leaving the church today. It used to be because people denied doctrines or desired sin. He says now people depart “not because they do not believe what the church teaches, but because they believe the church itself does not believe what the church teaches.” In other words, the way the church lives betrays what the church teaches.

As God tells us in 1 John 4, true Christians love. And so do true churches. Maybe the Lord is judging the lack of love in the American church. Maybe He’s not setting fire to our doctrine but to our culture. 

Friends, in a church that’s abiding in Him, where His love is pulsating through us, we could never laugh about the virus being a hoax next to a brother who just lost a family member to it. We could never mock as “woke” a sister who’s sharing experiences of abuse and how she fears for her son’s life. That’s because we’re moved to love and give up our lives. Wearing a mask or getting a shot. Shutting our mouths and hearing someone grieve. That’s the least we could do. 

How We Might Respond

I want to leave you four questions for you to ponder and pray about as I wrap up here today.

First, what has God revealed to you about your sin toward others during this pandemic? In what ways have you been more motivated by self-love? 

Second, in what ways is God calling you back into community? How can you root yourself more deeply into His family and live out His calling to love?  

Third, what has the Spirit taught you during this time about your need for His people and His calling to love? What pandemic practices can you count as blessings and carry over?

Fourth, do you believe God can use this trial to renew our love for this family and our city? Will you pray that God might do that?

Loving in the Vine

In that Crouch article I began with, he argues that organizations have to rethink their “vision deck” - “the presentation that summarizes who you are, whom you serve, why you serve them, and what you do and how you do it.” He says, keep the first two or three slides in your Powerpoint. And scrap the rest. Otherwise, things won’t go well for you.

Unfortunately, a lot of churches haven’t made it. Multitudes of pastors have hung it up. Even more professing Christians have completely walked away from Jesus the vine. Do we have a lot of room to grow? Yes. Have we arrived as a church? No. But I’m so proud of how God has used you, Karis. Have we lost some people? Of course. Have we kept honoring Jesus? By His grace, definitely. 

The Vine lives on. The branches remain. His capital-C, universal Church can’t be stopped. Yes, local, small-c churches have seasons, have limited lifetimes. Some plants withstand a long winter better than others. When we couldn’t gather for a season, it didn’t destroy who we were. We’ve never been about big productions, about massive events. We value our Gatherings like today, but we could improvise for a season. Just like Christians have had to do for generations.

But more than that, we’re a family. One that loves one another well. And it was a joy to see all of you serve your family and your city faithfully during this season. As a pastor, lots of people ask how things are going. And I’ve been really honest. It’s certainly been hard. There have been a lot of heartaches along the way. But at the same time, by God’s grace, I think we were prepared for the mess of 2020. Because, we’ve always been about the basics - the first few slides of the Powerpoint. Vintage Christianity. Loving God, loving brother and sister, loving neighbor. You were ready. For the storm. 

I want to take Crouch’s metaphor, though, and bend it a different direction. What if the church in America has actually been in winter? Ice cold. Not burning for Jesus. And these fiery trials of 20-21 might melt the ice and snow? Bringing renewed zeal? And even revival? Perhaps melted ice caps might morph into living waters moving toward us and our neighbors. Wouldn’t that be so much better than “normal?” Next, we’ll talk about how we love those neighbors. Let’s pray, Karis.