Easter 5 B: On Being Pruned

Dear Partner in Preaching,

Anyone else feeling rather pruned of late?

Don’t get me wrong. I lead a blessed life with a wonderful family and job and friends, for all of which I am profoundly grateful. And yet…

And yet there was another devastating earthquake, this time in Nepal, with so many dead and so many more left in dire circumstances. And we just passed the one-anniversary of the kidnapping of all those school girls in Nigeria by Boko Haram. And the 2016 – yes, 2016! – election campaign is already beginning and negative statements and ads are already flowing. And I heard from several friends recently who are dealing with pretty difficult things at work or home. And….

And that’s the thing. At any given moment, even when things are going relatively well, there are still so many difficult things with which to contend in this life and it often feels like being pruned.

Or maybe it doesn’t. Maybe it just feels like being cut, cut down by life’s tragedies great or small, cut down by disappointment or despair, cut down by illness or job loss or other circumstances beyond our control and left to wither and die.

It’s easy to read this passage as one of judgment and threat. But I think the thrust of the passage is promise. Why? It all has to do with context. First, the context of the narrative: Jesus is offering these words to his disciples on the eve of his crucifixion. He knows what is going to happen – both to himself and to his flock – and they do not. They are about to be cut down by his crucifixion and death and he is assuring them that it will not be mere, senseless cutting but that they will survive, even flourish. The second context is that of the community for which John writes. Because by the time they hear these words they have already been scattered, likely thrown out of their synagogue, and have had plenty of reason to feel like they’ve been abandoned. But John writes to assure them that while they have indeed been cut, it is the pruning for more abundant fruit and life.

No doubt that was hard to believe, as there was precious little evidence available to the disciples or John’s community that they had not been abandoned. And no doubt it still is hard to believe on our end as well, as so much of life simply tears at us with no evidence that it is toward some more fruitful future. But amid this uncertainly and distress, Jesus still invites us – actually, not just invites but promises us – that he will not abandon us but rather will cling to us like a vine clings to a tree so that we endure, persevere, and even flourish among these present difficulties.

Here’s the thing: if Jesus had only said, “abide in me or else,” that would be a different matter. But it’s not. “Abide in me,” Jesus says, “as I abide in you.” This is more than good advice. More than an invitation. This is a promise, that no matter what happens, Jesus will be with us. That no matter what happens, Jesus will hold onto us. And that no matter what happens, God in Jesus will bring all things to a good end.

Which is not to say, by the way, that everything happens for a reason. Rather, it is to say that no matter what happens, we have God’s promise in Jesus to work for good. Keep in mind, after all, that these words are said just before Jesus goes to the cross. And I would argue that the cross was not simply a part of some larger plan, but rather the chief example of God’s commitment to wrestle life and hope from the very place that seems most devoid of life and hope.

Not everyone feels that way, I know. There has been countless voices over the centuries that argue that the cross is some kind of mechanism by which God finds a way to forgive us despite how wretched we are. Frankly, I think most of that theologizing is pious bullshit, meant to help us understand and even domesticate something that is absolutely beyond our control. If the cross means anything, I think it means that God chose not to sit back in heaven, removed from the pain and paucity of our mortal, free, and difficult life in this world, but rather came in Christ to be joined to it – the ups and downs, the hopes and disappointments, the frailties and faults of our life in this world – so that we would know of God’s unending commitment to us. The cross was not the instrument that made it possible for God to love us, the cross is evidence and testimony to just how much God already loved us and God’s promise to be with us through all things. Just so, the resurrection is the promise that no matter how much tragedy we endure, these hardships will not have the last word.

Let’s be honest, Dear Partner, this is a hard passage to preach. But let’s also be honest and confess that this can be a hard life to live, and at times it’s helpful to hear once again that the suffering we endure is not wasteful cutting but pruning for a more abundant future and, that no matter what happens, Jesus will not abandon us. Thanks for bearing this Word to your people this week and always.

Yours in Christ,
David

PS: If you or your congregation wants to help Lutheran World Relief respond to the Nepal earthquake, please click here to learn more about LWR’s response and to contribute. Thank you!