John 15:1-8

”I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinegrower. He removes every branch in me that bears no fruit. Every branch that bears fruit he prunes to make it bear more fruit. You have already been cleansed by the word that I have spoken to you. Abide in me as I abide in you. Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me. I am the vine, you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing. Whoever does not abide in me is thrown away like a branch and withers; such branches are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned. If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask for whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. My Father is glorified by this, that you bear much fruit and become my disciples.”

The summer we started the Grace Garden here at church, I planted something that is still in the garden today — I planted grape vines. Unlike everything else in the garden, which is destined to be distributed to our food pantry clients, my vision for the grapes was to make wine out of it to use in worship one day (maybe literally for one day).

I planted three vines that first summer, but only one survived to the next year. I didn’t know how to care for them and I still don’t know why one survived and the other two did not. The next summer I didn’t want to do anything to lessen the chance for the vine’s survival, so I didn’t touch it. By the time the third summer rolled around, I realized I had a bit of a problem because by never pruning the vine, it had grown out of control. Pruning was supposed to be done in the winter, but it was too late and I could only watch as the tangle of branches produced large leaves, but never a single grape.

This year I put it on my calendar to prune the vine in February. I was full of doubt about the process. Is this really what I’m supposed to do? Am I doing it right? Would it make a difference? Is there a chance I could kill it by removing so much of its growth? Pruning shears in hand, I nervously set about snipping off long branches and wayward growths, reducing the vine to a stub with only two branches splitting off in either direction. I looked at the end result and thought for sure I had killed it. Today, however, it looks healthy and has buds on it’s two remaining branches. In a few months there just might be some juicy grapes growing on it.

All that to say, this year as I read about Jesus’ spiritual teaching about the vine and the branches, I connected more with the story than I had before. I had a deeper connection to the illustration of removing branches from the vine as well as God’s promise to bring fruit forth from the vine. This time around, the story convicted me of my reluctance to prune away branches...both the literal ones in the garden as well as the figurative ones in my life.

I was hesitant to prune the grape vine because I didn’t actually know how to care for the vine. I was ignorant.

Also, I was so grateful to have one that survived that I couldn’t imagine taking a blade to it in any capacity. I was scared it wouldn’t live.

And finally, I was sure I would mess it up. I was full of self-doubt.

Ignorance, fear, and self-doubt are three things that prevented the grape vine from flourishing. Ignorance, fear, and self-doubt are also three things that prevent me from flourishing spiritually, emotionally, and physically.

Ignorance. Why is it that we so often lack the knowledge necessary to take care of ourselves or others? Do we realize that we have to remove branches from our lives that bear no fruit? Are we even aware that there are branches in our lives that do not bear fruit--that is, things in our lives that redirect and waste valuable time, energy, and resources from the truly good things in our lives?

Fear. What are we afraid of? Is it truly possible for us to fail if we are attuned to the presence and direction of God in our lives? Would God let us prune away too much? Would God allow us to sever the wrong branch? Would God prefer simply to chop us down entirely rather than carefully tend to our needs?

Self-doubt. Why is it so difficult to love ourselves and be filled with God’s grace? Why do our inner monologues seek to tear us and others down? Why do we cling to resentments and disappointments? Why do criticisms from others remain with us longer and demand more energy from us than compliments? What is it that prevents us from trusting that God is a master vinegrower and we are valuable vines?

Close your eyes and imagine a garden that is tended to by someone who is full of ignorance, fear, and self-doubt. What do you notice about what is or isn’t growing in the garden? How does it make you feel to look at that garden, to walk among it?

Ignorance, fear, and self-doubt ruin more than just gardens, of course. They can also ruin lives. Ignorance, fear, and self-doubt will prevent a human life from reaching its full potential. Yours, as well as those with whom you are in relationship.

The antidote to ignorance is knowledge. The antidote to fear is courage. And the antidote to self-doubt is faith.

Close your eyes once more and imagine a garden that is tended to by someone who is knowledgeable, courageous, and faithful. What do you notice about what is or isn’t growing in this garden? How does it make you feel to look at this garden, to walk among it?

The difference between the two gardens is that one has been pruned.

When Jesus tells us that God, the vinegrower, will prune the branches that do not bear fruit, we are to hear this as a promise, not a threat. This speech Jesus gave to his first followers shortly before his crucifixion is not a warning about the fires of hell for those who fail to profess Jesus as Lord. Rather, it is an invitation to trust that God will prune the fruitless and wasteful branches of our lives in order for us to flourish. And with enough knowledge, courage, and faith, we will begin to identify those fruitless branches ourselves and do a little self-pruning. If the notion of self-pruning sounds a little too awkward or painful, you could also call this process “discipleship.”

Knowledge, courage, and faith are good gifts that come from God. We do not earn or create these gifts; but we do encounter them and become more aware of them in prayer, scripture, and acts of loving service to others.

Knowledge grows as we admit we do not know everything and approach life with an open heart and an open mind.

Courage grows each time we engage with others from a position of vulnerability and honesty.

Faith grows each time we seek out and wrestle with God’s presence in the midst of this world that God loves and redeems.

May you be filled up with wisdom about who God is, whom God created you to be, and what wasteful branches in your life should be pruned away.

May you be courageous and bravely set out to make a positive impact in the world, even if it comes at great personal cost.

And may you be faithful to the God of love who is, at this moment, using his followers to redeem, restore, and reconcile the world and one another.

Amen.

Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23

That same day Jesus went out of the house and sat beside the sea. Such great crowds gathered around him that he got into a boat and sat there, while the whole crowd stood on the beach. And he told them many things in parables, saying: "Listen! A sower went out to sow. And as he sowed, some seeds fell on the path, and the birds came and ate them up. Other seeds fell on rocky ground, where they did not have much soil, and they sprang up quickly, since they had no depth of soil. But when the sun rose, they were scorched; and since they had no root, they withered away. Other seeds fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked them. Other seeds fell on good soil and brought forth grain, some a hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty. Let anyone with ears listen!"

"Hear then the parable of the sower. When anyone hears the word of the kingdom and does not understand it, the evil one comes and snatches away what is sown in the heart; this is what was sown on the path. As for what was sown on rocky ground, this is the one who hears the word and immediately receives it with joy; yet such a person has no root, but endures only for a while, and when trouble or persecution arises on account of the word, that person immediately falls away. As for what was sown among thorns, this is the one who hears the word, but the cares of the world and the lure of wealth choke the word, and it yields nothing. But as for what was sown on good soil, this is the one who hears the word and understands it, who indeed bears fruit and yields, in one case a hundredfold, in another sixty, and in another thirty."

I can’t think of a better place to preach on Jesus’ parable of the sower than in the Grace Garden at Cross of Grace.

This summer my work in the church garden has taken on new significance as it is one of the few places besides my home where I have spent time during quarantine. This has been my vacation spot, my quiet place, my study, my gym, and, on occasion, my social hour. It is a place I can come to and feel like I’m doing good and necessary work growing food to be shared with people who are hungry.

One of the reasons I spend so much time in the garden, other than the obvious fact that gardening requires a lot of time, is that gardening is my favorite metaphor for spiritual life. I guess that’s one thing I have in common with Jesus, who often taught spiritual principles using garden imagery. In addition to using garden-related imagery as teaching illustrations, Jesus also prayed in gardens and was even mistaken for a gardener when he appeared to Mary after his resurrection, which I’ve always thought was an absolutely beautiful way to think about God’s promise of the resurrected life.

In today’s parable, Jesus hones in on soil as one particular aspect of gardening that is a metaphor for discipleship. Jesus tells us that God’s word is like seed sown indiscriminately on the soil of our hearts. Some heart-soil is impenetrable; the seeds sit on the surface and external threats steal the seeds away. Some heart-soil lacks the nutrients necessary for lasting and sustainable growth. Some heart-soil would rather do anything but care for the seed of God’s word. But other heart-soil is rich with nutrients; it pours its energy into allowing the seed of God’s word to take root, grow, and produce fruit for the world to enjoy.

In the Grace Garden, the soil doesn’t get to choose what kind of soil it will be. Although, it should be said, if this area were to be completely untouched for twenty years and allowed to grow without interference, the top inch or two of soil would be some of the richest and most incredible soil you could hope for. That’s because nature (i.e., God’s “good” creation) prevails.

When we started this garden three years ago, I took a soil sample and had it analyzed. It was exactly what you’d expect from soil that was near a construction site within the last decade. It was devoid of most necessary nutrients, couldn’t hold moisture, and was ill-suited to grow anything but weeds. New topsoil, minerals, and compost was added to the existing soil and crops were planted that would affix necessary nutrients back into the soil. Through the past three years the soil quality has steadily improved and now we can count on productive crop growth each summer. The soil was lacking; but some care and attention eventually enhanced its quality.

As we explore the spiritual metaphor, please understand I’m not saying we should obsess over analyzing the quality of our heart-soil or “doing” things in order to make our heart-soil more acceptable to God. Lutheran theology is absolutely clear on the fact that we cannot do anything to earn God’s grace and love. But where we sometimes sell ourselves short is in the realization we absolutely have things to do in response to God’s freely-given grace. There are ways to amend our heart-soil so that the fruits of the spirit can grow and be shared with the world. This is the task of discipleship. The fruit of the spirit is always a freely-given gift of grace, but God doesn’t grow fruit in soil that lacks the necessary spiritual nutrients.

In these past few months of social unrest I’ve taken the spiritual metaphor of the garden to heart. I have felt a divine invitation to assess the quality of my heart-soil and take stock of what’s growing in my spiritual garden.

Are the seeds of God’s word able to penetrate the surface of my heart-soil? Or am I not receptive to the always-surprising and expansive scope of God’s grace?

Are the seeds of God’s word able to draw from a diversity of necessary nutrients in my heart-soil? Have I amended my heart-soil with the ideas and perspectives of others that are necessary heart-soil amendments if I hope to bear spiritual fruit? Or does my heart-soil consist only of my own ideas and preconceived notions?

Are the seeds of God’s word being tended to and nurtured in my heart-soil? Or am I too busy, preoccupied, or lazy to tend to them?

Contemplating the answers to these questions can be painful and embarrassing (trust me on that one); but is an absolutely essential step if you hope to bear the fruit of peace, joy, love, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. There will be no justice and no peace until we allow God’s word to penetrate our heart-soil and cooperate with the Spirit’s power to “let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream” (Amos 5:24).

My hope and prayer for you is that you will find a way into the garden of your heart. Maybe you will find that here in the Grace Garden, as I so often have. Maybe you need nothing more than the pages of scripture or the folded hands of prayer. But wherever you find access to your heart-soil, please be honest, brave, vulnerable with yourself as you take stock of what you have and what you lack. And above all, expect God to produce something beautiful and abundant in your life as you tend to your heart-soil.

Amen.

Pruning for Fruit

Tending to Your Heart-Soil