I am the True Vine

We celebrate and stay close to the Vine

Scripture

“I am the true vine, and my Father is the vine-grower. 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.

As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love. If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and abide in his love. I have said these things to you so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete.”

(John 15:1-11, but the whole chapter is always worth the full read)

Reflection

Let the vine grow.

Why not end at the Resurrection—the whole point of his living, suffering, and dying? Or the Way, Truth, and Life: the shining summation of all he embodies? Why would The True Vine be the last image that Jesus gave to his friends, the final word on who he is?

Because he wanted to leave us with a tangible, touchable name. A name that brings us back down to earth, where we must live and move and have our being. A name we might remember while weeding in gardens or working in fields. A name to savor in our mouths like a swirl of wine or a splash of juice. A name sweet with fruit, rich with earth, ripe with promise. 

The Vine grows for us. The Vine nourishes us. The Vine makes us who we are.

Branches born to bear fruit.

Jesus planted this ripening image at the Last Supper, packed it into the heart of his long final discourse, leaving his friends with the most vivid metaphor of connection. Their bellies full of bread and wine, their feet newly washed and gently dried, now their minds and souls were left to feast on one last offering: I am the vine, you are the branches.

They had already been fed and watered by their sacred source. Maybe that made it easier for their bodies to believe? Or maybe only after he was gone could they look back and understand what he meant with his final name. 

Even when vines look shriveled, dead, and gone, new life is still on the way. All you can do is wait and trust and let nature do what it was created to do: keep going. 

Here is where he ends—and we begin. The Vine.