In spite of the claims by secularists that modern people's interests in spirituality would experience decline, the past decades have proved these claims to be fallacious. Rather than a decline, we have seen a rise of interest in spiritual matters. People still long for a sense of the transcendent - a sense of participating in something bigger than themselves. They still desire meaning, purpose, and connection. The hunger for spirituality has not diminished, but increased. Modern people seek to satisfy this hunger in a variety of ways.

Tragically, the last place that most people go for spirituality is the church.

This is unfortunate, because there is a deep spirituality in the ancient Christian tradition. In some ways, this tradition speaks to the spiritual needs of modern people. There are many points of overlap - areas of common interest that bridge the gap between people's hunger for spirituality and the Christian way of life. But, in other ways, there is a sharp contrast between Christian spirituality and the many popular generic and eclectic varieties of spirituality that pervade our society.

During his final night with his disciples, Jesus introduces them to a distinctly Christian spirituality. It is a simple spirituality, but that does not mean it is simplistic. The simple can be profound. And there is a profundity in Jesus' simple words - words full of possibilities, as he invites his disciples to share in a way of life that is grounded in his life and teachings. But, as stated above, Jesus' spirituality possesses some sharp contrasts with popular spiritualities.

A Corporate Spirituality

To begin, Jesus' spirituality is not individualistic, but corporate and historical. Jesus declares, "I am the true vine." The vine is a popular Old Testament image for Israel. The image of the vine appeared on coins minted during the Maccabean period, Israel's final hundred years of freedom from foreign oppression. Josephus, the Roman historian, informs us that over the Temple in Jerusalem was carved an exquisite, gold leaf grapevine, a constant reminder to Israel that they were God's vine. The vine stood as a symbol of national unity. Israel saw itself as God's vine, whose roots ran all the way back to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.

The psalms teach that, through the exodus, God brought a vine (Israel) out of Egypt, and planted it in a good land (the Promised Land). God planted the people in order that they might bear fruit as a witness to the world. But, as the prophet Isaiah records, the vine that should have produced good grapes instead yielded wild grapes (Isaiah 5:1-7).

In Jesus' final "I am" saying, he alludes to this ancient metaphor. Jesus declares that he himself is the true vine,[1] his Father the vinegrower,[2] and his disciples the branches of the vine.

When Jesus tells his disciples, "you are the branches," he exempts any individualistic interpretation of his metaphor. The "you" is plural. There is no vine with one branch. A vine has multiple branches. This metaphor would be very meaningful in Jesus' culture, where many cultivated vines for a living or for their own personal use. It is not as meaningful in our culture. Perhaps we could compare it to Christmas tree lights and the way they all share the same power source. The weakness of this image is that it is not simply power we share in the vine, but life itself.

The vine metaphor is a most intimate metaphor describing our relationship to Jesus. As branches to Jesus' vine, we are called to share in the life and love of Jesus. This goes beyond eating and drinking (actions alluded to in Jesus' statements, "I am the water of life," and "I am the bread of life."). It pictures the branches' organic unity with the vine. This is the Johannine equivalent of Paul's "body of Christ" metaphor. Through this image, Jesus teaches that our spiritual life must be rooted in him. "Whereas [under the old covenant] one's salvation had depended on identity with Israel, the people of God, Jesus declares that life depends on abiding in him."[3]

By using this metaphor, Jesus roots our spirituality in the larger context of Israel's life and mission. It is not an individualistic, but rather, a communal picture. We are not a bundle of isolated branches, but branches united in the vine, that is, in Jesus. By speaking in this manner, Jesus reveals that our spiritual flourishing takes place in a community rooted in the life and teaching of Jesus. This has tremendous application for us:

It's easier to pursue my own spiritual development than to live in community with other people who are pursuing theirs as well; but it is precisely part of the point that this vine, this true Israel, this people of God, are those in whom God's purpose of love, of the reintegration of the world, is to be worked out in costly companionship. Abiding in Jesus includes being part of the life of the church, committed to the daily and weekly fellowship of his people, in mutual support, prayer, shared worship, sacraments, study and not least work for the gospel in the world.[4]

A Self-Denying Spirituality

Disciples are branches, and the sole purpose of a branch is to bear good fruit. A good vine demands constant pruning in order that it might bear the best fruit. Jesus says, "He [the Father] removes every branch in me that bears no fruit. Every branch that bears fruit he prunes to make it bear more fruit" (John 15:2).

In order to keep a vine healthy and allow it to bear the best fruit, it must be pruned regularly. "Anyone who is acquainted with viniculture will recognize immediately that vines allowed to grow unchecked will produce smaller and smaller grapes as the vines gradually return to their wild state."[5] Without pruning the branches will become straggly and tangled and grow in on themselves, rather than growing outwards toward the light. A vine needs help in order to be the most productive in order that its energy may be focused on producing good quality grapes, rather than lots of second-rate ones. Potential buds and new shoots must be regularly sacrificed in order that the few remaining may grow strong and produce better fruit than would otherwise have happened.

No matter what, pruning is inevitable in order that a vine may bear good fruit. Branches that bear no fruit must be removed and cut off. Likewise, branches that bear fruit must be pruned in order that they will bear more and better fruit (cf. John 15:2).

The spiritual lesson is clear: Everyone is under God's knife. This is not necessarily a cause for fear, but rather, reveals God's tender care. The vinegrower is involved in an intimate process of maintaining the health and fruitfulness of the vine. "The vine-dresser is never closer to the vine, taking more thought over its long-term health and productivity, than when he has the knife in his hand."[6]

Followers of Christ cannot escape this painful, yet life-giving, process: "And, though it always hurts, we must be ready for the Father's pruning knife. God is glorified, and so will we be, by bearing good quality fruit, and lots of it. For that to happen, there will be extra growth that needs cutting away."[7]

Submitting to God's pruning clashes with popular spiritualities which focus on affirming and indulging our every whim and desire. Contemporary spirituality is generally self-indulgent, rather than self-denying. Too often it is self-centered. It doesn't intrude upon our lives, challenge our desires, or call us to conform to the divine will - a will is often in conflict with our own. This is the reason so much popular spirituality feels constrained to de-personalize God to a mere force or energy. A force that makes no demands, but simply seeks to indulge our desires, is much easier to live with than a God who has a will and seeks to conform our lives to a righteous standard and holy mission. N. T. Wright puts it well:

Every branch in me that doesn't bear fruit, declares Jesus, the Father removes, cuts away; and every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, so that it may bear more fruit. You get the knife either way; and that's precisely what postmodern spirituality doesn't want. We want to discover who we really are; we want to get in touch with our true, hidden identity that's been buried under so much rubble, so much social and cultural conditioning, so much irrelevant teaching. We want to develop to our full potential, to be more fully, more truly ourselves. And we want this for ourselves, for our own enjoyment, so that we can be fulfilled and happy in ourselves.[8]

But this is not Christian spirituality, but a poor substitute:

The genuine spirituality to which this passage invites us is not one of unfettered personal development, fulfilling all the potential we might discover within ourselves. It is one in which, as we follow Jesus and come to know him personally for ourselves, we find him calling us to submit to the pruning-knife, to cut out some things from our lives which are good in themselves and which would in principle have had the potential to develop into fruitbearing branches, in order that other things may flourish. Pruning is always painful. It's a kind of bereavement. But the vinedresser is never closer to the vine, never more intimately concerned with it, than when wielding the pruning-knife. A genuine Christian spirituality is never self-indulgent. It is always a matter of following the Jesus who gave up everything, his very life, on our behalf.[9]

Bearing fruit that accords with the life and teaching of Jesus and pleases our heavenly Father, the vinegrower, is our central vocation. Such fruitfulness demands a constant willingness to surrender to God's pruning hand. To fail to do this causes us to run the risk of being cut off completely from the vine (cf. John 15:6). The essence of this fruit is manifesting christlike love for the sake of the world. God prunes us that we might grow outward, not inward, in order that we might align ourselves with God's will and mission, and not simply with our own desires. Christian spirituality often challenges our deepest desires rather than merely affirming and indulging them. It is self-denying, rather than self-centered. It is rooted in God's will and not our happiness. And the pruning occurs in order that our happiness may be found in doing God's will.

A Christ-Centered Spirituality

Christian spirituality is not simply a deeper experience of ourselves, but a deep relationship with the living, resurrected Christ.

Christian spirituality, the personal heart of what this building, this faith, this service are all about, is the personal knowledge of another person, the person who died and rose again, the good shepherd who knows his sheep by name and is known by them, the one whose own life, his breath and his blood, are given to us, as the vine gives its sap to the branches, so that we can be extensions of his work, his love, his fruitbearing, his glorifying of the Father. That is what the Eucharist, this service in which we share here and now, is all about.[10]

It is Jesus himself, the one "who walked and talked in first-century Palestine, who wept and hungered and loved and laughed and suffered and died and rose again, and who offers himself and his life to us today as he offered himself and his life to his first followers in the upper room. It is Jesus himself who says to us - and I want you to feel the force of the repetition - abide in me, and I in you."[11]

We are enabled to engage in such an intimate relationship with Jesus because of our union with Christ through the Spirit. It is this spiritual union that the metaphor of the vine and the branches highlights so clearly. As the vine's sap flows from the trunk into the branches, so too, the life and love of Jesus flows into our lives and enables us to bear fruit to God's glory. The one sap that flows from the vine to the branches unites believers with their Lord. "The allegory confirms that the intention of the formula is to convey a relationship of identity at the level of living, while firmly maintaining a radical distinction. The believer is united to Jesus, and Jesus to the believer, so that the latter is given a new identity, that proper to the reality of Jesus as Son. The mutual indwelling formula says that the two become one without ceasing to be two."[12]

This is the deep and profound mystery revealed in the simple metaphor of the vine and branches: "When John exhorts believers to live their faith, his purpose is not so much to urge them to improve their behavior as it is to have them become aware of their identity, of the divine mystery that gives them their being. John sets forth a theological ethics."[13] This is a great mystery: "the reality that unites Jesus and his disciples is nothing other than the eternal love of the Father for the Son, a love which the Son has given to his followers and which he wants to see circulating among them."[14]

We are called not simply to imitate the love of Jesus - the very love that unites and flows between Father and Son - but to interiorize and embody Christ's love. It is this communion with the love of Jesus that becomes for Jesus' disciples our very life. The call is for our whole being to be infused with a sense of the love of God. When this is our inner disposition and strength, we are then in a position to allow this love to flow outward to others. The love of God is interiorized in order that it may be externalized to others. We abide in Christ in order that we might release God's love to the world.

A Life-long Relationship, Not Just Technique

This profound truth calls us to abide in the living Christ. Repeatedly, Jesus' call is to abide in him. "The Greek verb menein conveys the idea of dwelling (or staying: see 1:38) and the idea of permanence and fidelity (remaining). To a certain extent, it complements the verb "to believe." The idea, then, is to persevere in one's life in the close communion of being and love with Jesus to which the person has access through faith."[15]

The call is to abide - to dwell in, to stay connected to, to remain in and united with God in Christ. The life of the Christian community must issue from communion with Christ. Our strength arises from being rooted in the presence of Christ in our midst. In order to do this, we must be constantly "pruned" through engagement with Jesus' life and teaching.

This is a life-long discipline. "We become disciples not just in a moment of decision but throughout a lifetime of disciplined fruit-bearing."[16] God does not "zap" us with spiritual power. If God worked in this way, we would never really be changed at all. Instead, God calls us to a life-long process of conformity to God's will by remaining rooted in the life and love of Christ. There is no "quick-fix." There is only a life devoted to Christ in order that we might make the glory of God visible by bearing fruit as befits Christ's disciples. God is so committed to this end that God has sent Christ and given us the Spirit. Like a faithful gardener, God patiently and carefully prunes us regularly in order that we might grow in christlikeness.

Conclusion

We are now in a position to see the striking contrasts between an authentic Christian spirituality and its generic alternatives. Christian spirituality is corporate, not just individualistic. It is life lived in community, like branches of one vine. It is self-denying rather than self-indulgent. It is Christ-centered, inviting us to a deep and intimate relationship with the living Christ. And it is a life-long process that demands our continued participation - our abiding. Though its demands are clearly greater than most pop spiritualities, its rewards are also greater.

Though we may take heart that the secularists are wrong and people continue to desire spirituality, we must not reduce the deep and profound spirituality Christ offers to its secular alternatives. Our spiritual life is rooted in the living Christ through the Spirit and issues forth in bearing fruit for the glory of God. It is not so much about finding ourselves, but finding God, or better, finding our true self in God in Christ. Anything less is a cheap substitute.

© Richard J. Vincent, 2009