Posted on 11/19/2010 9:15:51 AM PST by wmfights
Perhaps you’ve heard of the speaker who said that his most difficult speaking assignment was an address given to the National Conference of Undertakers, titled “How to Look Sad at a Twenty-Thousand-Dollar Funeral.”
But an even more difficult assignment would be to speak on the topic: “How to Teach the Early Christians to Be Sad.” Though their enemies tried to put a lid on their joy, it just bubbled up again and again.
Henry Wingblade used to say that the Christian personality is hidden deep inside us. It is unseen, like the soup carried in a tureen high over a waiter’s head. No one knows what is inside unless the waiter is bumped or trips.
When a disciple of Christ is bumped, joy should spill out. After all, Christ promised a constant supply of joy for all those who believe in Him.
The world says that joy can be found through a change in circumstances: take a vacation, earn more money, spend more money, or save more. Or even more popular today is the notion that we should change ourselves. Self-help books tell us to “discover the new you,” and be enlightened regarding the resources that are already latent in every human being.
Jesus has a different formula for joy. “These things I have spoken to you, that My joy may be in you, and that your joy may be Me” (John 15:11). Most of us don’t have enough joy for ourselves, much less enough to share with someone else. “Some Christians are like a cup half-filled, trying desperately to spill over,” a friend of mine said. But Jesus said it is possible to have enough joy for yourself and still enough to share.
What is the source of joy Christ talks about? It’s learning to abide in Christ so that we become fruitbearing Christians. Let’s consider some of the relationships given in the popular metaphor of the vine and the branches.
First, joy depends on fruitbearing. When Jesus said, “These things I have spoken unto you,” He was talking about becoming a fruit-bearing disciple. What is fruitfulness? It’s the outward expression of the inner nature. Some people can walk through a forest and identify the kinds of trees just by looking at the bark and the leaves. I can’t do that. But if I see some oranges growing on a tree, it does not take me long to conclude that I must be looking at an orange tree. There’s an outward expression of the inner nature.
The fruit of Christ’s life in us is, therefore, the outer expression of His inner power. Fruit isn’t just other Christians. No, it’s the inner nature of Christ that eventually will bring about the new birth in the lives of others. Fruit is the product of what God can do and not what you and I can manufacture.
Just think about the fruit of the Spirit, “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control, against such things there is no law” (Galatians 5:22,23). What strikes us most about these inner qualities is the obvious fact that we do not have them naturally.
These “fruit of the Spirit” come in clusters. We cannot say, “I have love, but don’t expect me to have any patience.” If we have one fruit of the Spirit, we will have all of them to at least some degree. We might have some more than others, but eventually God wants us to have them all. There is growth in our development. Bearing fruit does not happen naturally — it is the result of a process.
Christ said, “I am the true Vine, and My Father is the Vinedresser. Every branch in Me that does not bear fruit, He takes away; and every branch that bears fruit. He prunes it, that it may bear more fruit” (John 15:1-2). The Father has a knife that cuts and He uses it to make us more fruitful. Grape growers cut back young branches so they will expend their energy in becoming more firmly entrenched in the vine. Just so, God the Father cuts the leaves away so that we might become even more fruitful.
When you look at a vineyard just after the branches have been cut back, it looks as if the vinedresser has been absolutely ruthless. Scattered on the ground are bright green leaves, and bare stems almost appear to be bleeding from the sharp knife. To the untrained eye, it seems wasteful; but not one stroke was done at random. As one writer said, “There was nothing cut away which was not loss to keep and gain to lose; and it was all done artistically, scientifically, for a set purpose — that the plant might bring forth more fruit.”
And how does the Father cut back the branches? He uses the Word of God and the circumstances of life. “You are already clean because of the Word which I have spoken unto You” (v 3). If we allow the Word to prune us, some of the bitter chastisement that we experience from time to time might be needless. To quote Spurgeon, “The Word is often the knife with which the great Husbandman prunes the vine; and, brothers and sisters, if we were more willing to feel the edge of the Word, and to let it cut away even something that may be very dear to us, we should not need so much pruning by affliction. It is because that first knife does not always produce the desired result that another sharp tool is used by which we are effectually pruned.”
“God loves to hurt his children!” a missionary used to say. This was not said in bitterness, but rather the expression of one who had been deeply wounded because of his own sin. Often the consequences of our sin is proof enough that God really does love His children. The chastisement hurts, but it is necessary if we wish to be fruit-bearing Christians.
And what about those branches that don’t bear fruit? There are several different explanations for the branches that are taken away and burned in the fire. Some teach that they represent the unconverted who make professions of faith but are not genuinely joined to Christ. Like Judas, who appeared to be like the other disciples, these people have never been converted. God eventually removes such branches from the vine and burns them. They await the fire of hell.
A second interpretation says that this passage teaches that true believers (i.e., those who are genuinely “in Christ”) can eventually be lost. Although these branches are at one time “in Christ,” they are at a later time separated from Christ and burned. This interpretation, however, is difficult to reconcile with other passages in John’s gospel that teach unequivocally that Christ loses none of those who are truly His.
A third view is that these branches represent genuine Christians, but they are removed by God’s discipline because of carnality and disobedience. Yet, they do not lose their salvation; the fire spoken of is not hell, but the fire at the Judgment Seat of Jesus Christ when some believers’ lives will be consumed, yet they shall be “saved so as by fire.”
Regardless of how we understand the worthless branches, we cannot lose sight of Christ’s central point: as far as God is concerned, there is no reason for you to live, except to bear fruit. If you are not fruitful, God says your works are worthless. God still loves us; in fact, He loves us just as much as if we were fruitful, but He is nevertheless displeased with us. His love is wounded because of our double-mindedness.
The text talks about “fruit,” but also “more fruit,” and again Christ speaks of “much fruit.” We should begin with bearing fruit, and then each year we should be increasing in “being fruitful in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God.” God is concerned about one thing in your life — fruitfulness. Since the wood of the branches of grapes is worthless, it is simply taken and burned.
If you thought the purpose of your life was to earn a decent living, you are wrong. Or if you thought the reason for your existence was tied to your own happiness and personal fulfillment, you are wrong again. Fruitbearing is God’s single overriding concern for you. And if you don’t bear fruit, you are worthless to Him.
Joy is dependent on our fruitbearing; fruitbearing depends on our relationship with Christ. Consider these words, “Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, unless it abides in the vine, so neither can you, unless you abide in Me” (v 4). The key to fruit-bearing is relationship — it’s dependent on the life of the vine. To put it clearly: It is not the responsibility of the branch to bear fruit, the responsibility rests with the vine. A branch, as someone has said, is just a grape rack — just a vehicle of the vine’s life.
Let’s suppose you lead someone to Christ. Who gets the credit? Of course, we know that Christ receives the glory, for He alone can beget life. But now let’s suppose that you have prayed, you are filled with the Holy Spirit, and you share the same Gospel with another person. Is it your fault that they do not believe? Of course, Christ hasn’t failed, but it is His responsibility and not ours to bring about eternal life. Whatever God’s ultimate purpose in the life of that individual is, the fact is that it is up to God, and not us, to grant men and women the gift of eternal life. What I am saying is this: If you have prayed and are submitted to the leadership of Christ and you present the Gospel, He must be the one to bear fruit; we of ourselves cannot. This frees us in our witnessing, because we realize that responsibility rests with the vine and not the branch.
And precisely how much can the branch do without the vine? Nothing! Christians who concentrate on good works rather than their relationship with Christ are missing the point Christ is teaching here. It’s not a matter of what we do, but a matter of Who works through us that determines whether we are fruit-bearing Christians. John MacArthur writes, “Even strong branches cannot bear fruit independent of the vine. Cut off from the vine, even the strongest branches become as helpless as the weakest; the most beautiful are as helpless as the ugliest; and the best are as worthless as the worst.” That’s why learning to abide is absolutely essential in our quest to please God. Whatever we do independently of Christ is just so much dead wood.
God will use His sharp knife until we bleed, so that our worthless deeds are laid bare. We will stand before Him impoverished, so that we might learn once for all the need to receive our strength and motivation from Christ alone. Are we willing to pray, “Lord, cut me if only my fruit for You might increase?”
And precisely how much can the branch do without the vine? Nothing! Christians who concentrate on good works rather than their relationship with Christ are missing the point Christ is teaching here. It’s not a matter of what we do, but a matter of Who works through us that determines whether we are fruit-bearing Christians. John MacArthur writes, “Even strong branches cannot bear fruit independent of the vine. Cut off from the vine, even the strongest branches become as helpless as the weakest; the most beautiful are as helpless as the ugliest; and the best are as worthless as the worst.” That’s why learning to abide is absolutely essential in our quest to please God. Whatever we do independently of Christ is just so much dead wood.
Can you please correct the spelling in the headline..
My pleasure...
If we have one fruit of the Spirit, we will have all of them to at least some degree. We might have some more than others, but eventually God wants us to have them all. There is growth in our development. Bearing fruit does not happen naturally — it is the result of a process.
AMEN. Our God-given sanctification is a process, ordained by God and carried out by the the Holy Spirit whereby Christ's righteousness is given to us so that our lives bear good fruit, all for God's glory.
He prunes (the branch) that it may bear more fruit
Amen.
"All things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose." -- Romans 8:28
Thanks for the ping. God Bless.
Thanks for the ping. I needed the reminder.
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