Staying on the Vine

“I am the vine; you are the branches.  Whoever abides in me and I in him,
he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.”
(John 15:5)

I have a knee jerk reaction whenever I hear someone try to succinctly state what the Christian life is all about.  Because we are talking about life, any description cannot be succinct.  Any attempt to summarize the Christian faith and life will inevitably leave something out.  Given the nature of this brief, hastily written, belated midweek message, I know I will omit a thing or two as well, that’s why I keep writing week after week.

Still, in preparation for my sermon this week on Matthew 21:18-22, the story of Jesus cursing the barren fig tree, my mind has been racing around the idea of how the Christian life is about being fruitful.  The fig tree represented Israel.  The tree’s show of fullness and health only masked it’s emptiness; there was no fruit to be found.  Israel’s pomp and hyper-religious production only masked it’s emptiness; they failed to recognize their King, they had turned a house of prayer into a marketplace and den of thieves.  What had been meant to be a light for the world had become a Sun-Tan salon for the spiritually superior, with the ensuing cancer eating away at the soul of the nation.

Those who are called God’s people are meant to be fruitful; to be a blessing to the nations, to be the light of world, the salt of the earth.  This was Israel’s calling, and the fig tree stood as a symbol, a parable, of the curse that would come because of their fruitlessness.

The message serves as a warning to the Church today.  Are we fruitful?  Is the evidence of God’s Spirit working among us showing forth in a growing love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control – showing in the fellowship of the congregation and in the individual lives of its members?

This isn’t a call to work harder at being a better Christian.  The Pharisees and Priests in Israel, the “religiously serious” had a pretty good handle on how to work harder at doing right by God – and Jesus called them whitewashed tombs.

No, the answer to fruitfulness in the Christian life is not doing more stuff.  And here’s where I might narrow the focus a bit:

The purpose of the Christian life is not in the doing, it is in the being.  Christ did not come so that we could be better people, so that we could have the encouragement to try harder, or so that we could have a better example of how to live.

No.  Christ came to make us a new creation, to cover our brokenness with his perfection, so that our lives would become lives of thanksgiving and praise to God for such a gift of salvation.  The fruitfulness that Christ is looking for in the life of His church, in the lives of His disciples, is not the product of harder effort, but of true fellowship with him.

This is what Jesus is getting at in our reading from John.   We are branches grafted into the vine.  Our strength, our fruitfulness, does not come from the branch, from ourselves, but from the vine which is our source of life.  When we are connected, fellowshipping, in union with Christ, our lives will bear the natural consequence of that union: fruitfulness.  When we are absent from Christ, when we fail to listen and obey His word, when prayer and fellowship with Christ is forsaken, then we will cease to bear fruit.

Fruitfulness is the natural consequence of faithfulness to Christ.

We have some friends who like to burn scented candles in their homes.  When you go to visit, the aroma of their candles permeate and saturate your being.  When you leave, you carry that aroma with you.

So it is with Christ.  The beautiful aroma of sweet fellowship with Christ permeate and saturates your life, until everything you do is an overflowing of that fellowship, and comes forth like fruit from the vine.

May your fellowship with Christ be seen in the fruitfulness of your life.

SDG

The Privilege of Pastoral Ministry

“Shepherd the flock of God that is among you, exercising oversight,
not under compulsion, but willingly, as God would have you;
not for shameful gain, but eagerly…”
(1 Peter 5:2)

There have been a lot of articles circulating on the internet lately about the difficulties of pastoral ministry.  After having been a pastor for 12 years, I could probably write a list of my own.  Pastoral ministry can be isolating, discouraging, emotionally and spiritually exhausting call.  We encounter people in some of the hardest times of their lives: when they are hurt, lost, angry, alone, shamed, caught, desperate for an answer.  Sometimes as Pastors we shine, and we bring comfort and hope to those in need, other times we respond with the same brokenness we have encountered, and we only make matters worse.  This calling is tough, and not everyone is equipped for it, not everyone is called to it.  But those who are called know the unique privilege of pastoral care.

Several times this past week I’ve had people come to me and say something to the order of, “I don’t envy you your job.”  This week I’ve had two funerals for men in my congregation, men who were faithful members of the congregation I serve and men I counted as friends and brothers in Christ.  It has been a struggle for me to write the services for these men, but it was also a privilege that I do not take for granted.

Yes, it is difficult to speak from the heart on such an occasion.  But when you consider that it is also an opportunity to proclaim our faith in Jesus Christ, to share the hope we have in Him, to take part in His ministry of compassion in binding up the brokenhearted; it is an honor that I could never turn down.

Yes, it is painful to sit with a family as they watch their loved one die.  But when you consider that this is an opportunity to witness a saint passing from one glory to the next, to be there to recount the mercies of God and the promises afforded in God’s Word for such a time, to be an ambassador of God’s kingdom; it is an honor I could never turn down.

Yes, very few will willingly walk into a situation where a family is in crisis, where the consequences of a lifetime of bad decisions come crashing down, where years of bitterness and hostility have created a wall of division.  But to be able to speak a word of grace, of peace, in such a time, to take part in the ministry of reconciliation that was established on the cross of Christ; that is an honor I could never turn down.

No, shepherding has never been a highly valued form of employment.  In the days of scripture it wasn’t a position that attracted the best and the brightest.  But a good shepherd lovingly cared for his sheep, guided them to quiet waters and green pastures, protected them from harm, and delivered them healthy and strong to his master. 

This is the privilege of pastoral ministry: to guide a congregation through difficult times, to sing over them words of peace and promise, to feed them with the feast of the heavenly banquet, to refresh their hearts with streams of living water, to lead them in joy to before their Lord. 

Were it not a calling, I could never do it.  Had I to rely on my own strength, I would be a complete failure.  But since God is the one who calls us to serve, then equips those whom He calls, I will gladly, eagerly, faithfully shepherd the flock. 

SDG