connecting, pruning, expanding
April 29, 2018
John 15:1-8
So last week I did a Google Search in hopes of learning about Vines and Vinegrowers. Anyone care to guess what topic dominated the results from my search? Well, I’m sure it doesn’t come as a shock to any of you that the topic dominating the results was wine, and the making of wine, which had me thinking about a conversation I had recently with a client of mine who is originally from Italy and has recently inherited part of her family’s vineyard. She and her husband began sharing their excitement with me about going back to Italy and making sure that everything is running correctly in their vineyard. Now neither one of them claimed to know much about owning a vineyard or making wine other than their childhood memories of smashing grapes. They were, though, very excited about this new venture in their life and were eager to learn new skills. I found myself getting excited for them as I sat and listened. In fact, I could spend the next few minutes recounting all that we talked about, but then something dawned on me, standing in this pulpit on a Sunday morning talking about wine vineyards and wine making may not be the best decision I could make.
There is something, however, quite remarkable about the way vines grow which, I believe, can teach us about the importance of connection, pruning and expansion. These three ideas caused me to recall a conversation I had with our own Catherine Parker some time ago about her love for her Roses. You see, I don’t know anything about growing and caring for Roses, but Catherine knows enough for all of us I think. Until then I really didn’t know that a rose bush, left to itself, will get straggly and tangled, and even grow in on itself. While plentiful, the roses produced by such a bush are not so good. The overgrowth of the bush actually begins to cover the light it needs, and in this way, it needs help to grow in the right direction and to the right ends. To prevent it from wasting its energy and being unproductive, the rose bush needs someone to prune it. The bush needs someone to cut out, particularly, the parts of the plant that are growing inwards and getting tangled up. This pruning encourages the shoots that are growing outward, toward the light. This pruning, in other words, helps the rose bush to be its true self.
As far as I understand it, the same thing works with vines. Vines, too, need to focus their energy on producing good quality grapes, rather than lots of second-rate ones. Vines, too, need to grow towards the light rather than getting in a tangled mass. Left to themselves, they produce a lot of superfluous growth which must be cut away if the vine is truly to be what it’s capable of.
***********************************
Within Jewish tradition, the vine was a picture of Israel. God brought a vine out of Egypt and planted it in the promised land (Psalm 80.8–18). It had been ravaged by wild animals and needed protecting and re-establishing. In today’s passage in John’s Gospel all the language turns on the image of Jesus as the vine. Clearly it is a metaphor and just like any good metaphor, the power is not that it defines a thing, but that it points to something else. All along the way, Jesus identifies himself in images that are familiar to his followers and that hold theological meaning: bread, light, door, shepherd, life, way, truth, and vine. They all point to relationships—with God, with Jesus, and with each other. If left alone, vines will grow uncontrollably and result in one big tangled mess. A vinegrower is needed to keep the vines in order. The paradox is that the vinegrower must cut away lifeless, unproductive branches and prune those branches that are productive. At some point, all the branches need to be cut. Young vines are not allowed to produce fruit for the first few years. This means a drastic pruning is needed each season so the plant can develop to its fullest. Vineyards, then, are labor intensive, long-term investments with the goal of bearing fruit. Yet because of the love the vinegrower has for the vine, this labor is worth it. This labor bears fruit. And in this context, this love is best understood, I believe, as abiding.
*********************************
Now, multiple times this past week I listened to a podcast interview of Timothy Shriver. Now some of you may know him as the youngest child of Eunice Kennedy and Sargent Shriver. Until this past week, I admit, I’m not sure I knew much of anything about him, but now I feel blessed for having learned a little more of his story. He has just written a memoir titled Fully Alive: Discovering What Matters Most, which was the impetus for his doing this interview. He recalls how his mother started the Special Olympics in 1968 and how through his mother’s efforts society began to change the ways it views people with intellectual disabilities.
He took over as President of the Special Olympics in 1996 and says his interactions with these particular Olympians has taught him more about life and more about pursuing your life’s passion than anything else. He says he has learned more about the strength of opening yourself up to vulnerability. He believes his family received this gift from his Aunt Rosemary, the third child of the famed Kennedy family, a child born with intellectual disabilities. Unlike the other Kennedy’s, his Aunt Rosemary never had to prove her worth. His Aunt Rosemary never had to attempt to carry more than she could bear and no one ever had to earn his Aunt Rosemary’s love. For these reasons he believes his Aunt Rosemary was a love offering to his entire family. Her presence alone helped connect his family, it seems, and for him her life helped prune away some of the things holding him back. Things like the inability to acknowledge and work through grief. Things like being open about being vulnerable, in order to grow bigger and better. Things like coming to realize that there is only power in vulnerability and trust because the other type of power is superficial, and it locks people up. And you want to know what fruit was born of such pruning… The Special Olympics. A worldwide force, so deeply rooted in love that anyone encountering it is changed for the better.
There is a story he tells from that first Special Olympics that touched me greatly. For those who may not know, the first ever Special Olympics, was held in iconic Soldier Field in Chicago and was held at a time when institutions were growing in size and number to house people with intellectual disabilities. Well, in this particular event, six athletes were running one lap around the track and during the event the athlete leading the race stumbled and actually tumbled to the ground. The athlete who was in second at the time proceeded a pace or two and then stopped, turn around and went back to his fallen competitor. In what could have been his moment, according to worldly standards, he goes back and picks up his friend and they eventually cross the finish line together, but last. You see, for him his priority was to help his fallen friend. A priority rooted in love for another. In his book, Timothy asks a profound question about that particular event, “Who really won that race?”
************************************
It seems to me that in this part of his farewell discourse Jesus is wanting the Disciples to ask themselves similar type questions. In our world today, a world so focused on winning and losing. A world so focused on being on the right team, not the wrong team… we can lose focus on so many things. We can lose focus on how desperate we truly are for connections. We can lose focus on what things need to be pruned in our lives and we can lose focus on the ways in which acts rooted in loving others is the best and truest ways to expand.
Lucky for us that people like Catherine Parker care for and love roses, for they provide a beauty to our world that is unmatched. Lucky for us there are people like Eunice Kennedy Shriver and her son Timothy Shriver who care for and love the angels in our midst who have intellectual disabilities, for they too beautify our world. And lucky for us the vinegrower doesn’t lose focus on the things that are truly important. Lucky for us the vinegrower is offering the vine and its fruit an opportunity to participate in a different kind of race. A race where all people abide in each other just like God abides in them. A race rooted in the deepest love possible. A race we too can participate in because the vinegrower knows how to care for the vine so that the vine will bear much fruit.
Amen!
John 15:1-8
So last week I did a Google Search in hopes of learning about Vines and Vinegrowers. Anyone care to guess what topic dominated the results from my search? Well, I’m sure it doesn’t come as a shock to any of you that the topic dominating the results was wine, and the making of wine, which had me thinking about a conversation I had recently with a client of mine who is originally from Italy and has recently inherited part of her family’s vineyard. She and her husband began sharing their excitement with me about going back to Italy and making sure that everything is running correctly in their vineyard. Now neither one of them claimed to know much about owning a vineyard or making wine other than their childhood memories of smashing grapes. They were, though, very excited about this new venture in their life and were eager to learn new skills. I found myself getting excited for them as I sat and listened. In fact, I could spend the next few minutes recounting all that we talked about, but then something dawned on me, standing in this pulpit on a Sunday morning talking about wine vineyards and wine making may not be the best decision I could make.
There is something, however, quite remarkable about the way vines grow which, I believe, can teach us about the importance of connection, pruning and expansion. These three ideas caused me to recall a conversation I had with our own Catherine Parker some time ago about her love for her Roses. You see, I don’t know anything about growing and caring for Roses, but Catherine knows enough for all of us I think. Until then I really didn’t know that a rose bush, left to itself, will get straggly and tangled, and even grow in on itself. While plentiful, the roses produced by such a bush are not so good. The overgrowth of the bush actually begins to cover the light it needs, and in this way, it needs help to grow in the right direction and to the right ends. To prevent it from wasting its energy and being unproductive, the rose bush needs someone to prune it. The bush needs someone to cut out, particularly, the parts of the plant that are growing inwards and getting tangled up. This pruning encourages the shoots that are growing outward, toward the light. This pruning, in other words, helps the rose bush to be its true self.
As far as I understand it, the same thing works with vines. Vines, too, need to focus their energy on producing good quality grapes, rather than lots of second-rate ones. Vines, too, need to grow towards the light rather than getting in a tangled mass. Left to themselves, they produce a lot of superfluous growth which must be cut away if the vine is truly to be what it’s capable of.
***********************************
Within Jewish tradition, the vine was a picture of Israel. God brought a vine out of Egypt and planted it in the promised land (Psalm 80.8–18). It had been ravaged by wild animals and needed protecting and re-establishing. In today’s passage in John’s Gospel all the language turns on the image of Jesus as the vine. Clearly it is a metaphor and just like any good metaphor, the power is not that it defines a thing, but that it points to something else. All along the way, Jesus identifies himself in images that are familiar to his followers and that hold theological meaning: bread, light, door, shepherd, life, way, truth, and vine. They all point to relationships—with God, with Jesus, and with each other. If left alone, vines will grow uncontrollably and result in one big tangled mess. A vinegrower is needed to keep the vines in order. The paradox is that the vinegrower must cut away lifeless, unproductive branches and prune those branches that are productive. At some point, all the branches need to be cut. Young vines are not allowed to produce fruit for the first few years. This means a drastic pruning is needed each season so the plant can develop to its fullest. Vineyards, then, are labor intensive, long-term investments with the goal of bearing fruit. Yet because of the love the vinegrower has for the vine, this labor is worth it. This labor bears fruit. And in this context, this love is best understood, I believe, as abiding.
*********************************
Now, multiple times this past week I listened to a podcast interview of Timothy Shriver. Now some of you may know him as the youngest child of Eunice Kennedy and Sargent Shriver. Until this past week, I admit, I’m not sure I knew much of anything about him, but now I feel blessed for having learned a little more of his story. He has just written a memoir titled Fully Alive: Discovering What Matters Most, which was the impetus for his doing this interview. He recalls how his mother started the Special Olympics in 1968 and how through his mother’s efforts society began to change the ways it views people with intellectual disabilities.
He took over as President of the Special Olympics in 1996 and says his interactions with these particular Olympians has taught him more about life and more about pursuing your life’s passion than anything else. He says he has learned more about the strength of opening yourself up to vulnerability. He believes his family received this gift from his Aunt Rosemary, the third child of the famed Kennedy family, a child born with intellectual disabilities. Unlike the other Kennedy’s, his Aunt Rosemary never had to prove her worth. His Aunt Rosemary never had to attempt to carry more than she could bear and no one ever had to earn his Aunt Rosemary’s love. For these reasons he believes his Aunt Rosemary was a love offering to his entire family. Her presence alone helped connect his family, it seems, and for him her life helped prune away some of the things holding him back. Things like the inability to acknowledge and work through grief. Things like being open about being vulnerable, in order to grow bigger and better. Things like coming to realize that there is only power in vulnerability and trust because the other type of power is superficial, and it locks people up. And you want to know what fruit was born of such pruning… The Special Olympics. A worldwide force, so deeply rooted in love that anyone encountering it is changed for the better.
There is a story he tells from that first Special Olympics that touched me greatly. For those who may not know, the first ever Special Olympics, was held in iconic Soldier Field in Chicago and was held at a time when institutions were growing in size and number to house people with intellectual disabilities. Well, in this particular event, six athletes were running one lap around the track and during the event the athlete leading the race stumbled and actually tumbled to the ground. The athlete who was in second at the time proceeded a pace or two and then stopped, turn around and went back to his fallen competitor. In what could have been his moment, according to worldly standards, he goes back and picks up his friend and they eventually cross the finish line together, but last. You see, for him his priority was to help his fallen friend. A priority rooted in love for another. In his book, Timothy asks a profound question about that particular event, “Who really won that race?”
************************************
It seems to me that in this part of his farewell discourse Jesus is wanting the Disciples to ask themselves similar type questions. In our world today, a world so focused on winning and losing. A world so focused on being on the right team, not the wrong team… we can lose focus on so many things. We can lose focus on how desperate we truly are for connections. We can lose focus on what things need to be pruned in our lives and we can lose focus on the ways in which acts rooted in loving others is the best and truest ways to expand.
Lucky for us that people like Catherine Parker care for and love roses, for they provide a beauty to our world that is unmatched. Lucky for us there are people like Eunice Kennedy Shriver and her son Timothy Shriver who care for and love the angels in our midst who have intellectual disabilities, for they too beautify our world. And lucky for us the vinegrower doesn’t lose focus on the things that are truly important. Lucky for us the vinegrower is offering the vine and its fruit an opportunity to participate in a different kind of race. A race where all people abide in each other just like God abides in them. A race rooted in the deepest love possible. A race we too can participate in because the vinegrower knows how to care for the vine so that the vine will bear much fruit.
Amen!
