Returning to the Vine, Part One: Abiding | John 15
Here’s my sermon from this past Sunday, our first in a three part post-COVID vision series entitled “Returning to the Vine.” The audio and video can be found here (or via our podcast). Following is the manuscript.
Unhealthy families often respond to points of crisis without really responding at all. Another family fight erupts. Or there’s a death in the family. And no one really acknowledges it. Someone passes the potatoes and everyone just moves on.
I don’t want that to be the case among us, Karis. We’ve been through a lot over the past year plus. We’ll jump back into Galatians in July. But I want us first to process this together. We can’t just act like nothing happened and try to somehow pickup where we left off. There’s so much we can and must learn together.
Here’s what we’ll try to accomplish through this three part series that begins today: we’ll reflect on what COVID has taught us and how God might want to use it in our lives together. We’ll reflect on how “getting back to normal” might not truly be the best for us. And we’ll try to do it looking at Christ’s words we just heard read from John 15.
But first, as we jump into this series, think first about the power of a crisis to disrupt and awaken. We have lots of tired parents here. You’ve probably been startled awake this week by a kid screaming at your bedside. Crises can have that effect. In Mark Sayers’s book Reappearing Church, he talks about this “secular myth” that so many have bought into in the western world. What’s that? That as we move along in time, we’ll progress “scientifically, technologically, politically, and morally.” And we’ll do it all without God.
But that myth is so fragile, he argues. Sayers wrote this, before 2020:
“The secularist life script, in which humans attempt to live without having to confront the great questions of life, creates insulation against faith. However, this insulation is not as secure as it may seem…If we endured a global flu pandemic, like the one in the early part of the twentieth century that killed millions of people across the world, how we view and process our personal potentials and possibilities would be deeply shaken.
…Your lifestyle, your freedom, your approach to faith and meaning are shaped by large-scale factors. Factors out of our control, which we assume to be stable and secure, but which in reality can change suddenly. The secularist life script is dependent on crucial political, economic, and social factors being in place, elements that are becoming fragile, opening a new potential for renewal and revival in the west.” (Mark Sayers)
Much like cancer can shake up your world and reset your priorities, something massive like COVID can do the same - on a global scale. Reminding us we’re not God. And that we can’t live without Him. The crisis can disrupt and awaken.
Think second about the growth that can emerge from struggle. You’ve heard of the proud athlete who blows out a knee. Or the pompous musician who spirals into addiction. On the other side, a part of them longs for the glory days. But at the same time, they never want to go back. Because, they’re different, stronger, better people now. As we think about moving through and out of this pandemic, we have to long for something better. For growth that will burst out of the soil of struggle.
We in Karis believe in a sovereign God. He’s completely in control - even over big catastrophes. And we believe He uses those things for good. To raise people from spiritual death to life. To alert and awaken His children who are asleep. This crisis can be a catalyst for our growth. It can be the spark that ignites renewal.
Well, with all of that in mind, here’s the basic outline I want to follow in each of these messages. First, what COVID has revealed in us. Second, what Jesus calls us back into. Third, what the Spirit has also taught us. Fourth, what our Father could be up to.
What’s Been Exposed
First, what COVID has revealed in us. My wife Amy has been battling cancer. Through Facebook, she’s gotten connected with an old friend of mine who’s going through the same thing. That friend got married back then and moved into a trailer home while finishing college. I was visiting one day, soon after they moved in. I was in the bathroom. And I heard some other people come in. And she began to give them a tour. I heard her say, “Here’s the kitchen.” “Here’s the master bedroom.” And you know what I heard next. “Here’s the bathroom.” And she flung open the door and there I was. Now this is what the pandemic has done. It’s exposed each of us. And what we’ve seen hasn’t been pretty.
Think about what’s come out in a couple of broad categories. First, thoughts and emotions. Now I think throughout the pandemic, the cry “faith without fear” was used as a slogan or meme to silence people who took COVID seriously. But I also know we’ve experienced a fair amount of unhealthy fear. At least I have. I remember my wife coming home from the hospital when her unit saw the first person die. I remember watching the situation unfold in New York on the news and freaking out. Most of us felt a lot of fear and anxiety about what was about to come.
I certainly think anger was a common emotion. The election, the protests, the storming on the capitol. The way the pandemic was mishandled. All the debates online about masks and vaccines and lockdowns. It’s been brutal. It filled me with rage too much of the time. And at other times, despair. All the deaths. Lost jobs. It was so much. Lots of emotions. Not all of them bad. But lots of ugly stuff has come out.
Second, words and deeds. The debates that played out largely online were ugly. Where did we so easily turn, in our isolation and boredom? To drowning ourselves in materialism. To the latest news report, and political hot take. Pledging our allegiance to earthly kings and kingdoms. Numbing ourselves with entertainment. Degenerating into lust. Distracting ourselves with social media. We took in lots of information, but largely the wrong kind. COVID fruit was rotten in so many ways.
Now the pandemic didn’t cause these things. Right? It just revealed what was already there. We’ll get to talking about bearing fruit, producing works that honor Jesus. To pour out, our tanks have to be full. And they have to be filled with something good. But our tanks were shown to be empty, at least. Or worse, filled with what’s dirty.
What has COVID revealed? That we’ve gone to other things for life, love, and joy. The pandemic revealed a deep sickness in our souls. Our thoughts, emotions, words, deeds during this past year have been symptoms that have made that very clear.
What Jesus Offers
Second, let’s look at what Jesus calls us back into. He says, in verse one, “I am the true vine.” And He repeats that idea in verse 5, saying there that we are the branches. The point of the metaphor seems to be this. Jesus as the vine, is the source of our life. Our very existence. Our hope to flourish and grow. Coming only through our union with Him.
There is life in Him. But also love. Verse 9: “As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Abide in my love.” He’s demonstrated His love, in giving up His life - verse 13. We can now get caught up in this eternal, trinitarian love. We can experience it. But only in our connection, as the branches, to Him, the vine.
Not just life and love, but also joy. Verse 11: “These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full.” This is what life in the vine looks like. Joy deep in our souls. Even in the face of trials. This is what Jesus our Lord calls us back into. What’s meant to fill that tank? His life, love, and joy.
He says it comes as we abide in Him. What does that word even mean, you might ask? Some translations use the word “remain.” It’s talking about an ongoing personal relationship. Near to Him. Connected to Him. Otherwise, we can’t bear any fruit. But that’s because we’re not drawing from Him our life, our love, our joy.
Verse 7 is helpful: “If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you.” If we stay close to Him. If we keep His words close to our hearts. We’ll be so connected that His desires will become ours.
Powerlessness has been a common emotion. Not just an inability to bring change. At times an inability to just survive. As Jesus says in verse 5, “Apart from [Him], we can do nothing.” Apart from Him, we really have nothing.
But in Him, we have everything. Even God Himself. Notice those words “I am” there. This is one of seven times in John Jesus says “I am” and then gives us a picture of what He’s like. Those words “I am” come from Exodus, where Moses asks God for His name, and God responds, “Call me ‘I Am.’” He’s the self-sufficient One. He’s the self-existent One. The One who made and owns everything. And needs nothing. Where life comes from and flows from. In our weakness, we find His strength. That’s what Jesus offers us here.
But to experience it, we have to slow down enough to receive it.
Things We’ve Learned
Third, what the Spirit has also taught us. This season hasn’t been all bad, right? One of the things that has been a breath of fresh air for most of us is the change of pacing. There’s been more time for solitude, more for rest. With everything shut down, many of us have gotten a breather from our hurried, frazzled lives. And it’s felt pretty good. More time for good books. For prayer. For Scripture. For family.
Psalm 19 tells us that the heavens declare His glory. We’ve been more likely to be on the trail. Reflecting on a park bench. The American life of running from thing to thing for no apparent reason came to a grinding, screeching halt. And it’s felt pretty good.
And as we think about things we should have run from, there are plenty of practices we can now lean into. Suddenly the space we hadn’t felt in our lives was there. And it wasn’t all filled up with bad things. But in many ways with long-lost blessings. And we can thank God’s Spirit for that.
What God Might Do
Fourth, what our Father could be up to. Now there’s another part of this metaphor Jesus mentions here. He says, in verse one again: “My Father is the vinedresser.” Christ’s Father and ours tends to the vine. He cares for the branches. He does a couple of things mentioned in verse 2.
First, the non-fruit-bearing branches, it says “He takes away.” This is a picture of judgment. Of those who may be hanging around but aren’t really of Him. The trials of this age have revealed many to not truly be people of God. And our Father is clearing out dead wood so that new, healthy branches can be grafted back in.
Second, the fruit-bearing branches, it says, “He prunes.” Why? So they “may bear more fruit.” What’s God doing? Our Father is cutting us back - no matter how it hurts - that we can grow back bigger and stronger, bearing more fruit for His kingdom and glory. He’s using this trial to show us ways we’ve turned from His life, love, and joy. And to reveal things that we’ve missed that enable us to abide.
The testimony of Scripture is that God is in control - of all things - and even the hard things. He uses those trials to test us - to see if we’re legit - and also to grow us - to make us look more like Jesus.
Our dog Bauer, the best dog ever, that most of you have met on social media, has a seizure disorder. What keeps him from having seizures is having this fairly massive Keppra pill shoved down his throat and chased by a tasty artificial bacon dog treat. He doesn’t seem to like it. He doesn’t know what it’s for. But it’s for his good.
COVID’s been like that, hasn’t it? It’s been a tough pill to swallow. But it’s been good for us. We’ve been pretty spoiled here in America. Far less healthy than we realize. And this may be God’s way of moving us toward a sound mind, toward maturity in Him. Of making us better. I don’t want to minimize the pain and suffering many have experienced. All suffering is evil. But God wills it for good.
Perhaps this is God’s means for pulling us back into union with Him - as individuals. To where we abide in Him and His words abide in us. Getting back to hearing from Him in the Bible. And responding to Him in prayer. Seeing His glory on the neighborhood trail. Or feeling it in a soggy goldendoodle’s nose.
Maybe God will use this to make us desperate for corporate abiding again. It’s gotten to where coming on Sundays a couple of times a month is the average. There’s not been the desperation to hear His word preached. And to belt out songs with your brothers and sisters. Maybe God will use our absence from that worship over the past year to reorient our priorities and renew our love for Sundays.
I heard this great interview of Ray Ortlund the other day, and He talked about what happened back in the Jesus Movement of the sixties. He said this, on his wife’s podcast:
“We saw in the late 1960s, in the midst of national emergency, God rend the heavens and come down with revival. And two powerful things were happening simultaneously in our nation during those days. We were going through cultural upheaval and we were going through spiritual renewal. And the cultural upheaval was so unsettling and distressing, we were turning to God with new openness and radical need. And God met us in our need.” (Ray Ortlund)
Maybe God will take this crisis and use it as a control-alt-delete on our lives. Maybe God will bring great growth in our lives from this great struggle. He’ll explode that secular myth that even we’ve bought into. And bring great renewal.
How We Might Respond
I want to leave you five questions for you to ponder and pray about as I wrap up here today.
First, what things has the Spirit revealed in your life over the past year, and how should you repent of those?
Second, what gifts has the Father given during this season - and how can you receive them and flourish in them moving ahead?
Third, in what ways can you abide in Jesus going forward - in your private life, as well as your corporate life here? What would that look like?
Fourth, how do you need to receive the Father’s grace in Jesus after the never-ending year we’ve been through?
Fifth, do you believe God can use these trials to bring change and renewal - in you and us? Will you pray for that?
Abiding in the Vine
One thing that has been repeated over and over throughout this pandemic is “I can’t wait until we get back to normal.” I’ve said it. You’ve said it. But is that really what we want?
Perhaps one of the most impactful articles posted over the past year was titled “How the Pandemic Defeated America.” Written by science journalist Ed Yong in The Atlantic, he goes into 34 pages of detail on how a perfect storm of factors led to the mess we experienced here in America, a mess he calls both predictable and preventable.
There’s this jarring quote at the beginning of the article that I think speaks to what I want us to wrestle through in this series:
“Despite its epochal effects, COVID-19 is merely a harbinger of worse plagues to come. The U.S. cannot prepare for those inevitable crises if it returns to normal, as many of its people ache to do. Normal led to this. Normal was a world ever more prone to a pandemic but ever less ready for one. To avert another catastrophe, the U.S. needs to grapple with all the ways normal failed us.” (Ed Yong)
Church, all the ugly that came out during this pandemic sprung out of “normal.” Normal wasn’t healthy. Normal led to this. The disease of the American soul - one we’re not at all immune to - vomited out the mess we call 2020. We should long for so much more than that. We should run as fast as we can away from that. Normal failed us.
Now as I thought about “getting back to normal,” I’ve longed to read a good book in my favorite coffee shop. But more than that, I want to sit there with a heart bursting with joy. I want to be renewed.
And yes, today is a massive day. To be back worshipping as one together. But don’t we want better than before? Don’t we want our hearts to be ablaze as we hear God’s word opened and proclaimed? Don’t we want songs of the gospel to bring us to tears and burst out of our chests?
Don’t we want our worship together to look more like the book of Acts than our experience in America? I don’t want normal. I want God to revive our souls. And let us see something better. As we learn to abide again. Let’s pray.