In John 15:1, Jesus identified himself as the vine: the structure, and source and the life-giving conduit that sustains the branches. He also says we should understand the nature of his father as the gardener. In the verses that follow, he describes three aspects of His father’s nature:
He cuts off every branch that bears no fruit.
For a lot of people—pastors and commentators, and people like you and I—this phrase conjures up fear.
I don’t think Jesus was trying to scare his disciples. For the last few chapters, he was focused on comforting them, on giving them instruction for after he was gone, on giving them direction and hope.
And, if we read this and think Jesus is warning us—that if we should fail to bear fruit God will cut us off from him—then I think our only fear should be that maybe we missed his point.
This word translated “cut off” is the Greek word airō. It can have this meaning: to sever or cease or stop… to cut off. But it’s not always used that way.
The flavor of this word is more frequently something like, to take for one’s self. For instance, if I came to you and asked if you had a pen you weren’t using, and I took it from you, I would be cutting it off from you. But I would be doing that only in the sense that I took it because I had a purpose for it. I wanted it for myself. That I take something lying unused in order to use it as it was intended.
In the word airō, is the idea of paying special attention to something, and gathering it close, drawing it up, lifting it and making it useful.
In John 5, the man who was healed of his paralysis was told to take up his mat and walk. The word take up is this word airō. He gathered up his possession. He took it for his own use.
In John 8, some Jews were accusing Jesus of blasphemy, and it says they gathered up stones to stone him. They airō-ed up stones for a purpose, for their use.
In John 10, in his identification as the good shepherd, this word appears again. Jesus says the father gave him authority to lay down his life, and to take it up. God has given him authority for the use of his life, for his purpose. Airō.
And we see, in John 15:2, when Jesus says that God, the gardener, airōs every branch that bears no fruit. In the context, I’m more apt to read that the gardener gathers us up, those who bear no fruit, he gathers us to himself, that he might pay special attention to us, that we might be useful for his purpose.
In Luke 13:1-8, we find the parable of the fig in the vineyard, the fig that bears no fruit. The gardener begs the owner to be patient one more year. He would pay special attention to this tree, focus on it, that it might bear fruit according to its purpose. (I think in the past I have read this and assumed the owner was God and some one of us, in prayer, convinced God to wait patiently one more year while we try harder to bear fruit. But in light of John 15, we can read the story differently and see that it is God, the gardener, who waits patiently for us.)
He prunes every branch that does bear fruit.
The word prunes, also means cleans—your Bible likely has a footnote to that end. Look, both are true of gardeners.
I am no viticulturist, but my understanding is that a grape vine will grow and grow and grow and grow as long as there is time and daylight. Along those branches, a bud will form every 4 to 6 inches or so. But those branches that grow and grow and grow and grow… they cannot sustain a cluster of fruit every 4 inches.
We try, though, don’t we? Sometimes—with the best of intentions—we extend ourselves ever so far from the vine. We think we can sustain such growth and keep pushing and pushing and fruiting and fruiting. But the truth is, the fruit that results—if it survives—is small and weak. It is susceptible to disease. It doesn’t ripen, and often falls away and rots.
The gardener simply says, that’s far enough. You stay close to the vine, and here, produce rich and full and healthy fruit.
But the gardener also cleans the vines, doesn’t he? When disease or fungus takes hold, he cleans those things out, so they don’t infect the whole vineyard. Notice in that case, the branches are not entirely eliminated from the vine, but rather cleaned of the ailment, that they might continue to grow and bear fruit.
He does not seek destruction, he seeks fruit.
Why, does Jesus say, does the gardener do this? Why does he do all this gathering and pruning? It’s because he desires fruit—and not just some fruit—but, in verse 2, “even more fruit,” and in verses 4 and 8, “much fruit.”
Look, like I said, I’m not a very good gardener, but I do know it when I walk through a good gardener’s garden. How do I know? It’s because there is fruit. It’s because there is good fruit. Abundant fruit. Healthy fruit.
When you walk through such a garden, your mind does not simply say, What an amazing specimen of plant. Such strong branches. Your mind says, What an amazing gardener!
And when we bear good and abundant fruit, it reflects on our father. It brings him glory.
This is the second in a three-part series. The first addressed The Nature of the Vine and the next will address What it Means to Remain in Him.
