We must be quite careful how we interpret these words of Jesus. John’s gospel is in every syllable a mystical text, and so one must take care not to read these words superficially or to misread them entirely.
What I’m talking about is the image of “vine”—as when Jesus says, “I am the true vine”—and, especially, when Jesus talks about “bearing fruit”—as when Jesus says, “Whoever remains in me and I in him will bear much fruit.”[1] It is very easy to misread these words, to misconstrue the images; which is why I want to talk about them—to make it harder for you to misunderstand them.
The image of the vine and of bearing fruit is simple enough, and it is beautiful. The “vineyard” was an image that Isaiah had applied to Israel, and so Jesus seems here to be inviting his disciples (and by extension you and me) into the covenanted promises of Israel.[2] Paul talked about how in Christ the Gentiles, like a “wild olive shoot,” were “grafted” into the branch of Israel; Jesus seems to be saying something beautiful like that.[3] And, of course, the image is unquestionably eucharistic, for what is the fruit of the vine and the work of human hands but that which becomes our “spiritual drink”?[4]
So far, a genuinely beautiful image—an image of belonging, our belonging to God and to each other, brought together by the fruit of the vine, the blood of Jesus Christ. To interpret the Lord’s words in this way is entirely correct. We do belong together in Christ, drinking the fruit of the true vine from this true altar. “But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have become near by the blood of Christ,” it says in Ephesians.[5] That indeed is the miracle of the Eucharist, the miracle of the “true vine.” And, as I said, it’s beautiful, It’s the beginning of heaven.
But also as I said, we should be careful—especially about the “bearing fruit” imagery. You see, we can tend to misread things right at this point. Here is precisely where all the “prosperity Gospel” folks misconstrue Jesus’s words and ruin them, weaponizing them to prey upon the desperate and ignorant. “Whoever remains in me and I in him will bear much fruit,” Jesus said. But what does that mean? Does it mean material flourishing? Financial or professional success? Does it mean that all your problems will go away? Does it mean you’ll always win?
This is where we sometimes go wrong: by misunderstanding what Jesus meant when he told his disciples they would bear much fruit. For, if you think about it, saying these words the night before he died to his disciples, most of whom would be martyred and who would all of them suffer, Jesus was most certainly not talking to his followers about worldly success—not at all. Rather, he was inviting them to enter the mystery of suffering he was soon to enter. Basically, he was saying the same thing that he said when he said to them, “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.”[6] What Jesus is saying here is a million miles away from what the rich evangelist on the television (or down the road) is saying. Because he’s asking his disciples to be open to suffering, to be open even to death; for that is what it means to “bear fruit” in this passage. It’s Jesus hoping that his disciples would be strong enough and so full of love enough to suffer just as willingly as he will suffer. Because there is a love worth suffering and dying for—even though the world has hardly ever believed it.
A few days earlier Jesus had used similar language, you see. He had talked about “bearing fruit” earlier in chapter 12. It’s a strange and equally mystical passage as this, and it helps us understand that Jesus was not talking about worldly prosperity. The story goes: some Greeks had wanted to see Jesus, but instead of greeting them, Jesus said this: “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified…unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it remains just a grain of wheat; but if it dies, it produces much fruit.”[7] He was talking, of course, about his own death; Jesus is the grain of wheat who is to die and bear fruit; the image is also eucharistic, for that is how the Greeks will truly see him—in the breaking of the bread.
But you see what Jesus means when he talks about “bearing fruit”? He’s talking about his suffering, death, and resurrection; he’s not talking about your finances or your retirement or anything like that—no matter how important that stuff is. No, he’s asking us to imagine how we might love so much like him that we suffer too. He is asking us to imagine what it’s like to suffer and give our lives for the sake of others just as he does. He’s asking us to see our suffering not as a sign of punishment but of sacrifice. Here we come to what the mystics and honest preachers know better than anyone else. As Saint Catherine of Siena wrote: the soul suffers because it loves.[8] As Saint John Chrysostom said, “when you see anyone living in wickedness but suffering no misfortune…do not call him lucky, buy weep and mourn for him…[but] when you see anyone cultivating virtue, but enduring a multitude of trials, call him luck, envy him.”[9] But this is to wade into waters probably a bit too deep for a homily, things we don’t easily understand anymore; some truths today cannot be easily preached.
So, what are we to do with this? First, I think we should rejoice in the fact that God has welcomed us into his body, that the fruit of the vine sustains us. That’s what the Eucharist does before anything else: it unites us to God. But it doesn’t make us superhuman; it doesn’t protect us from the evils of the world; it doesn’t prevent suffering from happening. Rather, it allows us to unite our suffering to Jesus’s suffering—our cancer, our disability, our sadness, our poverty, our traumas and tragedies; it allows us to offer them on the cross of Jesus—our crosses with his—and it allows us to imagine fruit: if not physical healing, eternal healing; if not earthly rest, eternal rest; if not peace now, peace in the fulness of time.
That’s what Jesus means by all his talk about “pruning” and “bearing fruit.” Jesus is talking about the suffering you know, and which he knows too; he’s saying he wants to suffer with you and you to suffer with him. He wants to suffer with us just as he wants us to suffer with him. Because he knows what will come of all that suffering; he knows the fruit that’s called Easter. They are the beginnings of the leaves of the tree of life, which John once saw. And it is “medicine for the nations,” the healing of everything.[10] Amen.
[1] John 14:1,5
[2] Isaiah 5:1-7
[3] Romans 11:17
[4] The Roman Missal
[5] Ephesians 2:13
[6] Mark 8:34
[7] John 12:23-24
[8] Catherin of Siena, The Dialogue 4
[9] John Chrysostom, Third Sermon on Lazarus and the Rich Man
[10] Revelation 22:2
© 2024 Rev. Joshua J. Whitfield