Luke 24:1-12

But on the first day of the week, at early dawn, they came to the tomb taking the spices they prepared. They found the stone rolled away from the entrance to the tomb, but they didn’t find the body. While they were perplexed about this, suddenly two men in dazzling clothes stood beside them.

The women were terrified and they bowed their faces to the ground. The men said to them, “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He’s not here, but has risen. Remember how he told you while he was still in Galilee that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, crucified, and on the third day, rise again. Then they remembered these words and, returning to Jerusalem, told all of this to the eleven and all the rest.

Now it was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the other women with them who told this to the apostles but these words seemed to them and idle tale and they didn’t believe them. But Peter got up and ran to the tomb. Stooping and looking inside, he saw the linen cloths and went away, amazed at what had happened.

Apparently, The Velveteen Rabbit turned 100 this year. Did you know that? Do you remember the story at all? My youngest son, Max, was in the car with me when I heard this little human-interest story on the radio and I’m certain it’s a sign of bad parenting that he’d never even heard of The Velveteen Rabbit. Anyway, I sort of remembered, and the little report about the anniversary on the radio last week reminded me some, and it got me thinking about Easter.

There’s the rabbit-factor, of course. But the point of that story, really, is full of Gospel kind of good news, too.

For those of you who don’t remember, it’s the story of a boy who has a favorite stuffed bunny that he plays with and sleeps with and loves more than any of his other toys, even though the bunny isn’t the coolest toy in the toy box. The boy loves the rabbit so much that the bunny wants really badly to be Real (with a capital R) – Real in the eyes of the other toys in the nursery, Real in the eyes of the boy, and Real, even, in the eyes of the actual bunnies hopping around out there in the world, too. (It has a very Toy Story vibe to it, come to think of it!)

Anyway, eventually, the boy gets sick and the toy Velveteen Rabbit gets taken away from him. I think it was a scarlet fever thing they were worried about 100 years ago.

Ultimately, somehow, the Velveteen Rabbit becomes real and learns that something the Skin Horse, one of the other toys in the nursery, had told him once is actually true – that being loved is what makes someone real. And that, according to the Skin Horse, “once you become Real [with a capital R], you can’t become unreal again. It lasts for always.”

And what’s sweet and good and nice in the realm of children’s stories resonates with us in the real world, too, because there is a whole lot of Truth (with a capital T) to that fairy tale’s message.

What makes us real… what makes us tick… what makes us matter in the world and matter for ourselves is that we are loved for real by the God who made us. The Skin Horse in the story also told the Velveteen Rabbit that “Real isn’t how you’re made – [whether you’re the coolest toy in the toy box or not] – it’s a thing that happens to you.” And he said, when you’re loved “for a long, long time, then you become real.”

For the Velveteen Rabbit, the evidence that he was loved – for real – was how worn his ears and velvety fur had become from all the time his little boy spent with him. In other words, he could look at his body for evidence that he had been loved well and for real and for good.

For us, on Easter, we look to Jesus – at God, in the flesh – for evidence of how deeply we are and have been loved. There are pierced hands and wounded sides. There are scars and scabs on this Easter morning that remind us of God’s grace for all creation and of God’s deep and abiding love for each of us, too.

And this love is real, with a capital R. It lives beyond the Scarlet Fever, COVID-19 and Cancer. This love is greater than the war that worries us. This love is more real and everlasting, even than the death that will befall us all.

Because, just like the old and wise Skin Horse promised the Velveteen Rabbit, the same is true for you and me: “Once you become Real … once you have been loved by God, in Jesus Christ … once this death has been conquered, once this grace has been declared, once this love has been offered … you can’t become unreal or unloved, ever again. It lasts for always.

Amen. Happy Easter.

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.