New Thoughts (03/24/12-04/04/12)
In order to grasp the full power of this passage it is necessary to first understand the significance of the vine to Israel’s psyche. The association of the vine and Israel’s own association with God is of long standing. The presence of vineyards amongst God’s people goes back at least as far as Noah. But, the real significance, the symbolic power of that image, is not quite so ancient. Rather, it is associated with the exodus from Egypt. Asaph makes it clear that the nation saw itself as a grapevine belonging to God. “You removed a vine from Egypt. You drove out nations, and planted it. You cleared the ground, and it took deep root, filling the land” (Ps 80:8-9).
It was inevitable that such a powerful proof of God’s sovereign care as the Exodus would leave a lasting mark on the national conscience, and on its sense of self. God must have thought us something special to do such a thing for us! This self-image is clear in Asaph’s praises. That Egypt knew of wine is clear. That it was a mark of prestige for that country is clear. That God, then, took one of these prized plants of the powerful out from that country indicates that it wasn’t just Egypt that held the plant and its fruit in such high regard. It also says something of Israel’s sense of self that they counted themselves the prized possession of the powerful while they remained enslaved in that country. They may have been despised, but they were still prized.
As Israel moved into the period of wandering, there was that first point of contact with the Promised Land, and the spies coming back out of their explorations of the region with huge clusters of grapes to demonstrate just how marvelously fruitful that land was. We read that account with a sense of marvel, perhaps supposing that the author exaggerates just a bit when describing the clusters these men bore back to show the people. Yet, it seems that the fruit was indeed so grand, even in later centuries. Reports of grape clusters weighing near to twenty pounds are found as recently as the 19th century. Wonder of wonders! Here, they had known the efforts to which the Egyptians went to coax the grapes into producing back in Egypt, and in this place they grew to these marvelous proportions without any to tend them! Truly, a marvelous land.
As the years passed, the fruitful grapevine came to be firmly associated with God’s blessing on the nation. If the vine was producing, God was granting the nation peace and prosperity. If it was not, then God was displeased with the nation. This perspective might well border on idolatry, but we are not so far different in our sense of God’s pleasure or displeasure. If things are well with us, we feel He is blessing us. If they are not well with us, we assume His displeasure. It requires a disciplined rethinking of our perspective to consider that maybe it’s not displeasure, but only a pruning. But, let me save that topic for later. At present, we need still to fully establish the image of the vine to which Jesus contrasts Himself.
The prophets, quite probably starting from this association the people had made, reversed the image and considered the people from God’s perspective. If, indeed, the nation was His vine taken, as Asaph said from Egypt, and planted with great effort, what ought God to expect of the vine He had planted? Never mind its value as a bellwether of God’s pleasure in Israel. Look at it as a bellwether of Israel’s fealty to God! Isaiah takes up that line of thought in Isaiah 5. He sings the song of God’s vineyard, taking note of God’s effort in clearing the region, just as Asaph had sung. He speaks of God setting His tower in its midst, perhaps referring to the Temple, and he sings of the wine vat that was dug there. So far, it’s a lovely image, and one can imaging his listeners preening a bit under the comforting comparison. But, then the mood shifts abruptly. “He expected good grapes, but it only produced worthless ones” (Isa 5:2b). Oh dear! This is not what we want to hear about ourselves, is it? Isaiah proceeded to call the nation to judge, to discern for themselves who had the right of the situation, God or nation. In doing so, he switches to God’s voice. “What have I left undone? What more could I have done to make you fruitful?” The clear answer is nothing. “Well, then, why am I getting nothing but worthless fruit out of you?” And with that, He pronounces His own judgment, declaring that the vineyard that is Israel will be left to fall into ruin (Isa 5:5).
This, we ought to recall, was prophesied during the lead up to Israel’s exile in Babylon. Jeremiah also heard this message from God. Indeed, it’s possible, I should think, that he heard it first from Isaiah’s words. But, under God’s direction, he takes up the same theme, and he, too, delivers it in the immediate voice of God. “I planted you a choice vine, a perfect, faithful seed. How is it, then, that you have grown up to be degenerate shoots from a foreign vine” (Jer 2:21)? Indeed! He goes on from there to note the utter blindness and hypocrisy of His people. “You say, ‘I am not defiled! I have not gone after the Baals!’ But, look in your own valleys! Don’t you see what you have done? You are like animals in heat! You will take any comer, accept any lover” (Jer 2:23-24).
In spite of all this, Israel still returned to the self-image of being God’s vine. When the Maccabees were in power, they established the vine as an emblem for Israel, stamping it on their coinage. That image caught on. Herod worked the same imagery into his reconstruction on the temple, and it is said that those with the money, and with the passion for Israeli sovereignty, would see to adding further embellishments to those first rich ornamentations. Thus, the Temple bore this ever-growing gilded vine with its clusters of gemstone grapes. My, but we looked fine! Yet, something was wrong. The vine that grew upon the temple, like the vine that was Israel, had not grown from that faithful seed. It was an offshoot of foreign vintage. Some saw it, to be sure. But, for the most part, it was accepted.
With all of this in mind, we can then come to the thing Jesus proclaims here. “I am the true vine.” Let us translate that for modern ears. “I am the real deal.” I don’t just consider myself God’s planting. I AM God’s planting. I AM the root and vein. In me, there is not just a vague resemblance to that which God intended for this people, but I bear in Myself and demonstrate in Myself the real nature of that intention. I AM Life! Israel, planted amidst the nations to be the marker and producer of Life, had wandered from her mission. She had become reclusive, possessive of the privilege God had bestowed. Rather than overflowing with life, they sought to horde that life unto themselves. Indeed, as the prophets decried, she had even squandered the life vested in her, preferring the deadly counterfeits of those nations around her.
We could as well hear Jesus as saying that He is True Religion. And, of course He is. Or, we could hear Him saying that He is the True Man, and He is that as well. I AM what you are supposed to be. That, then, is His starting point. I AM the reality, the accurate expression of all that you can and should be. Never mind today’s army! This is greater. This is Life, and it is eternal!
When Jesus makes that introduction, it should be understood in the context of Jeremiah and Isaiah. It should be understood in the context of Asaph, and of the Maccabees. All of that historical symbolism is to be heard as He proclaims Himself the reality of which all else has been but image. This does not change the association of Israel with the vine, for that was God’s association. But, how to make Israel fruitful? How to establish a people truly pleasing in the sight of God? That is the subject to which Jesus turns Himself.
The vine God desires, He notes, is one that is fruitful. Frankly, a grapevine that doesn’t bear fruit has no value whatsoever. It was noted in one of the articles that the wood of the vine itself is so soft that one cannot even make a viable peg out of it. It may well grow to a goodly girth, having a diameter to compete with a middling oak or pine. But, the wood is no good. To sum up, Fausset writes, “Its sole excellence above all trees is its fruit.” That’s the background to what Jesus says here. If the branch won’t bear, it’s worthless. It’s a waste of sap that could be giving sustenance to branches that are still bearing. That’s rather a basic premise of horticulture, isn’t it? Go through the apple orchards in this region, and one will see the same principle applied. If the branch is dead, cut it off. Same with those sappers that grow up off the good branches. If left to keep growing, they just weaken the production of the good branch, using up sap that could be sent to better purposes.
Thus, as we come to verse 2, the discussion turns to what one might do with the fruitless branch, and how one might improve the fruitful one. There are a few things we ought note about this. First, I will observe that there is a bit of debate as to what is meant by the Greek underlying what the NASB translates as ‘takes away’. The term is airei, which is not a term which could indicate lifting up or taking away. Some commentary, noting the horticultural practices common to the vineyards of that area, insist the intended meaning is to lift up, for the locals will often place supports under the branches of the grapevine to keep the fruit off the ground. Yet, such an understanding would seem to ignore the nature of those branches Jesus is referring to. He is not talking about fruit-bearing branches that are being pulled down by their own weight. He is talking about the branch that does not bear fruit. If it is fruitless, why would the vinedresser lift it off the ground? There is nothing to gain. The meaning of taking away certainly appears to suit the context better.
I would also note the wordplay which is brought to our attention here. In ‘takes away’ we have the term airei, as I have noted. When He then speaks of pruning, we are handed the term kathairei. I would simply note that both in the pruning and the more fundamental lopping off of a dead branch, there is a taking away, there is a cutting off. Looking further at the descriptions of local practice, I read that the vinedresser thrice prunes the plant, coming at monthly intervals. I have already discussed the purpose of pruning. Expanding on that purpose, in view of this practice of a triple pruning, the point would seem to be that every effort has been made to make that branch bear fruit. It has been given every advantage. Those sappers were cut away to allow the branch unimpeded access to the root of the vine, that it might draw deeply from the life-giving sap and thereby produce. When that failed, the vinedresser didn’t give up. He looked for other twigs and branches that might be draining the sap from more beneficial use, and trimmed those away as well. A month later, and he still hasn’t given up, but tries once again to strip that branch of any new growth that does not serve. Only upon his fourth review does he determine that this is a branch that is beyond hope. And, at that point, the branch is indeed cut off entire, and tossed on the fire.
Note the difference. Pruning is a cleansing process. And, this is brought out as we move into verse 3. “You are already clean.” That ‘clean’ is katharoi, the base of the kathairei of the preceding verse. You are already pruned. And, by what? You have been pruned, cleansed of those fruitless, draining appendages, by “the word which I have spoken to you.” In this case (and I apologize if this is turning into a Greek lesson, but these seem to me to be important points), He uses the term logon. This suggests that He is talking about the whole of His teaching. Everything He has said to them over the last three years has been to the purpose of stripping away the useless growth from their spirits.
This is interesting! There are many ways one could run with that thought. What growth was He cutting away? One obvious thought, particularly in that way that katharoi is associated with cleansing (think cathartic moment), is in the removing of sin from us. And, this He has certainly done. As came up a few times yesterday, “as far as the east is from the west” (Ps 103:12). Yet, we know that sin is a struggle we continue with. If we don’t know that, then we are in that much greater danger, I should think. I am inclined to look at this in light of the running conflict Jesus has had with the Pharisees and the Sadducees. Here was what passed for religious instruction amongst God’s people, and as He has shown repeatedly, that from of religion is empty, null and void. It is fruitless. Indeed, when it sees the fruit of real faith, when it observes the Son of God imparting Life to God’s people, this form of religion wants nothing so much as to strangle that Life in preference for its own rules of order.
That is a whole different message, isn’t it? You are already clean. The teaching Jesus has imparted strips away false religion. Just go read what James has to say on the subject! But, no! Real faith bears fruit. It cannot do otherwise. “You have already been pruned and purified by the message I have given you”, reads the NLT. Can I just note that this is in the passive voice? You did not prune yourself. You did not purify yourself. Nor did I. Nor did any man who ever was or ever shall be. The branch cannot prune itself any more than it can force its own way onto the vine. The Word prunes you. The Word, quite by force, strips away that fruitless accretion of worldly thinking. You cannot encounter the Truth of God honestly and retain these false conceptions. He will cause you to reconsider. He will cause your thinking to be exposed to the light of Truth. To maintain false beliefs, one will have to shut one’s eyes to what the Scriptures actually teach, or play the game of selective misquotation to force the meaning to match the presupposition.
I have said already that the branch cannot prune itself, but must be pruned by some outside force. I have also said that the branch does not choose the vine to which it is joined. This, too, is the result of some outside force. This is also to be understood in what Jesus reiterates in verse 5. “I am the vine. You are the branches.” You can hear it again, and far more bluntly, in John 15:16. “You didn’t choose Me. I chose you. I appointed you to go and to bear fruit that remains.” Listen! This bearing of fruit is not the basis for discipleship. One could arrive at that thought looking at verse 8, that by fruitfulness you are made a disciple. But, the overwhelming evidence is to the contrary. By fruitfulness you are shown to be a disciple. It is demonstrable proof of that preceding condition. I will go so far as to say this: There can be no such thing as a fruitless disciple.
One may as well speak of a Christian who has not been born again. There can be no such creature! To be a Christian is to have been reborn. There is no other way of arriving at that fine estate. Some denominations make more of the term than others, and some attach all manner of presumed requirements upon the term; suggesting, for instance that to be born again necessarily implies flowing in the gifts of the Spirit as we see them laid out by Paul. This, of course, assumes that Paul’s list was intended to be an exhaustive list, which is far from certain. But, fundamentally, by Jesus’ own definitions, one must be reborn. It can hardly be supposed, then, that there exists a follower of Jesus who has not been reborn. In the same fashion, it cannot be supposed that a disciple, having been ‘already pruned by the word Jesus taught’ can be fruitless. If there is not fruit, there is no disciple. It simply is not possible. Where the Spirit is, His fruit must surely grow. Where the disciple is, again by the declaration of our Lord and Savior Himself, there the Spirit abides. The connection is final and undeniable. If, then, there is no fruit in evidence in your own life, there is cause for far more than concern. There is cause for dismay!
Come back to that pruning process for a moment. Three times the vinedresser comes. Three times he cuts away whatever may be holding you back from a fruitful pursuit of discipleship. Let us suppose that false conceptions of religion are one set of sappers that are cut away. We read for comprehension in His Word and we must recognize where we have allowed opinion or preference to take the place of Truth, and these hallucinations of ours are dispelled, allowing true religion to flourish. Yet, there is no fruit. The second pruning comes (and I do not by any stretch insist on the order here), and those sinful habits built up over a lifetime are cut away. As I have already said, they seem to persist, or to begin growing again, but they are truly cut away. This pruning, I am inclined to believe, is that one which continues through our lifetime. It is the process we know as sanctification, and it is no longer in the passive voice. As my brother spoke of the middle voice last night, it has become a partnership. One does it to us, but we receive what is done, we accept and lend aid to what is being done to us. We willingly (more or less) confront those sinful ways that remain, the remnants of the old man, and we take steps, together with God, to see that sin done and gone from us. I stress that matter of ‘together with God’, for as Jesus says here, “apart from Me you can do nothing” (verse 5). And, that certainly includes casting off our sins. As I said, the branch does not, cannot prune itself.
If I continue this line of thought, what might that third pruning consist in? I am inclined to associate it with discipline, that discipline which we more often view as tribulation and retribution, but which God sends to blow us out of our spiritual doldrums. Think back on the business with the fig tree that occurred nearer the start of this final week. Why was the tree stricken by its Creator? Because it should have shown signs of bearing fruit; its leaves made a claim for fruitfulness that inspection did not bear out. In short, it lied. This was, of course, a statement on the condition of God’s people. Israel, as a nation, continued to display its religion, continued to promote its temple as a clear marker of God’s benevolent disposition towards them. Yet, the response to God With Us had proven over and over again that their religion was all pomp and no circumstance. They talked a good God game, but they knew Him not. They claimed to serve Him, yet when He acted all they could do was complain because it didn’t fit their agenda. They seemed to have completely reversed the role of God and worshiper.
I will not leave this pointing at Israel because these things were written for our edification, for our benefit. They were recorded in order that we might learn from them and avoid the same mistakes. At the very least, they must serve to point out those places where we are making the same mistakes. If anything, our crime will be the greater against heaven, for we knew better. I would have to say that for Israel, the Exile serves well as the third pruning example. And now, here is Jesus, representing His Father the vinedresser, assessing whether that third pruning did any good. The fig tree encounter gives the answer. Still no fruit. There is no further work that’s going to be done in this vineyard. We have arrived back at Isaiah 5:5. “So this is what I’m going to do. I’m tearing up the hedge I put around you. I’m breaking down the wall that protected you. You will become trampled ground, laid waste by every predation. I will no longer prune you, nor hoe the grounds. Briars and thorns will come up, and the rains will not come to refresh.”
As I said: this is not just for Israel. That same warning shot ought to be heard by His church today. If He would not contend forever with the vine He bore out of Egypt (Isa 57:16), by what possible line of reasoning can we suppose that He will do so for us? If we are as fruitless in our turn as was Israel, why would we expect a different response? Oh, but we are in the age of grace! Yes, indeed we are. We have the full benefit of knowing Jesus dead on the cross and risen once more from the grave: A benefit far beyond that which Israel enjoyed. They only had the pillar of flame, the manna from heaven, the old stories. We have the abiding, live-in presence of God Himself. And, still, we fall into playing games with a religion reshaped to suit our own preferences. Still, we repeat the original sin of seeking to take God’s place on the throne. Still, we are pretty sure that we, at least, can mock God and still slip through the gates at the end of our days. But, we can’t! We cannot create a barren, fruitless church in our own image and suppose God will nod and wink at our efforts, and welcome us home anyway.
What will our exile look like? For, I am inclined to believe that for a major portion of what passes itself off as the church today, that exile is coming. Let there be no doubt of this point: Where there are true disciples, they shall flourish even if the church around them withers. For, the church is not the vine. As much as Jesus loves the church, and He does, it is not the power to save. Jesus is the vine. Jesus is the power to save. He alone is Life, and if all men be found liars – ever inclined to claim His authorization where it has never once been given – He will yet remain Righteous and True. There can be only one answer, one Hope for the church: “Live in Me, and I will live in you.” Here, I am taking my phraseology from the God’s Word translation. This is the necessary relationship for God’s people, in the individual and in the collective. Live in Me, else you live not at all. Live in Me and I will live in you. And, as I said: Where He lives, His fruit must surely flourish.
Consider your own estate, then: How grows the fruit of the Spirit in your life? Are the qualities of a godly life on the increase? How I need to contemplate that list Peter provides! Is my faith leading to moral excellence? Is that moral excellence increasing in knowledge? Has knowledge led to self-control? Uh oh! There’s the weak link. Where is self control when these temptations so easily and regularly beset? I know, yes. I have knowledge of the facts. I can read and comprehend. But, where is the result? Where is the internalization? I have written songs about perseverance, but is it in my character to persevere, or is my every inclination to toss it all and go back to the easier course? How’s that godliness thing coming? And kindness! These are the qualities that ought to be on the increase in me (2Pe 1:5-8), and I cannot say with comfort that I find them all so increasing. Yet, the apostle’s message is that God has given me everything I need pertaining to this godliness, pertaining to life (2Pe 1:3). I, too, have already been pruned by all He has taught. Why, then, is the fruit so thin on my branch?
Father, I come with that confession, that my fruitfulness is not as it ought to be. I pray You would find me willing to the pruning that is needed in my life. I pray that by Your indwelling presence and power I would know myself enabled to bear and to progress in full accord with Your design. I know too well my lack of self control, as do You. I know this is my weakness, my point of failure. I know, too, that I am powerless to change it apart from You. Yet, I remain keenly aware that You accept no passive partnerships in this matter of sanctification. Oh! That I might find strength to commit myself to this course. Oh! That You, Holy Spirit, would make me mindful of the cost ere I choose to let my commitment slide. And, Jesus, for this I give You thanks, that I am granted to let go of that which lies behind and concentrate instead on reaching for what lies ahead. Yes, and what lies ahead but You, my Savior? Help me, my God, to keep my eyes trained on You, my thoughts wrapped up in You, my heart longing after You.
Coming into verse 4, we are handed a command. “Abide in Me.” This is our active duty, and it is a command that admits of no termination. Do this, and continue to do this. One might think to ask how it is we are to manage such a feat. The simple answer is that we manage it by that which follows immediately, “and I in you.” Obedience to that command, like all else in this life of faith, depends entirely on that clause, depends entirely on that shocking truth proclaimed in verse 5: “Apart from Me you can do nothing.” We are, then, empowered to abide in Him by the reality that He abides in us. And yet, it is a command. It requires action on our part to apply the power of His abiding presence.
I am put in mind of those who have insisted with me, over the years, that the Spirit is a gentleman and would never force Himself upon us. While I must declare that viewpoint to be total bunk as it applies to the work of salvation, there is something to it in the matter of daily living. We can, at least in theory, walk about as defeated Christians all the days of our lives, fully convinced of salvation yet wholly unavailing of all those benefits that flow from salvation. I say it can be in theory because I do not believe it can happen in practice. It seems another of those oxymoronic statements, like supposing a Christian who has not been born again. Since the latter is a prerequisite for the former, it is clear that one is either both or one is neither. So, too, the victorious Christian life that must surely follow upon the reality of the indwelling presence of God Himself. If God is in us, what can possibly oppose us to any great effect? If there is defeat in our lives, it is certainly no evidence that God is not all powerful after all. What it is evidence of is that we are not yet so mature as we like to let on. We have not yet obtained to the fullness of the knowledge of this Christ Who has saved us.
What do I mean by that? Quite simply, we have the intelligence. We have seen the data, and we have accepted the conclusions to which that data inevitably points. Yet, we have not really internalized it. I can express it in terms of that marvelous Truth of Romans 8:28. We can walk for years with the words of that verse memorized, and we can aver with great energy that we believe it to be the Truth that it is. And yet, when life starts to get difficult, when our ways are not all that pleasant, when our experience is nearer to Joseph in prison than to Joseph in palace, does that Truth define our thinking? Is it part of us, or only part of our cant? All things work for good is a marvelous thought when we are living in bounty. It’s a far greater challenge to keep hold of when battling chronic illness, when the accounts never seem to suffice, when dreams have been forced to give way to cold reality.
The same could be said for any number of points of Scriptural Truth. “I can do all things through Christ Jesus Who strengthens me” (Php 4:13). Well, then, why don’t you? Why so quick to say, “I can’t do it”? It is wonderfully reassuring to understand that God Himself is working in me, both to will and to work according to His good pleasure (Php 2:13). But, knowing this and living this are two very different matters. If He is working, what was up with that loss of temper, that display of self centered pique? If He is at work, why am I so quick to take the credit? Oops. It is not enough to be able to recite the Truth. It is not even sufficient to accede to the truth of Truth. Truth must be understood, naturally. But, Truth must be lived. Truth must be eaten, absorbed into the fiber of my being. Truth must become an integral part of who I am even as it is an integral, essential part of who God is.
I’m going to amble down a bit of a digression now, as I move further into verse 5. Here, the NET hands us a footnote of some value. However, it chooses to introduce its thought with the phrase, ‘for John’. For John, this is how things are. This is John’s opinion. Now, I will grant you that the authors of Scripture, those who held pen in hand or dictated the particular phrases, were no two-dimensional beings stripped of all personality and character. At the same time, I find it a perpetual annoyance to see certain things touted as Pauline doctrine and others as Johannine or Petrine, as if doctrine could be personalized thus. To be sure, each of these men had particular points they were more inclined to stress, even as I have my own topical prejudices, if you will. But, the use of, ‘for John,’ suggests that we need not see things the same way. It’s just the way John views the world. That smacks of the whole post-modern mindset to me, and I would that we might purge such thinking from our pursuits of sound doctrine and understanding.
That aside, what has this footnote to offer? Let me just strip it of that leading qualifier. “To have life at all is to bear fruit.” This is followed by the parenthetical comment, “once again, conduct is the clue to paternity.” Indeed! This is rather what I was saying before. Where the indwelling presence of God is, the outward evidence of fruitfulness cannot help but be. Now, I have to say that this parenthetical comment has some powerful potential. “Conduct is the clue to paternity.” What does my conduct say of my paternity? I dare say that varies from moment to moment, from situation to situation. If I am wrestling with some work related challenge, particularly as I sit here alone in my back office, I dare say – must say, really – that my conduct is not always terribly becoming. I suppose the same can be said about any number of other situations in my daily life. This is not said with an eye towards accepting the idea of situational ethics, yet I would have to say that my actions and behaviors are more in line with such a view than they should be.
That’s the problem, isn’t it? We, as Christians, are not expected to have situational ethics, but rather, to have a consistent devotion to living in accord with the model given us in Jesus. We are intended to bear fruit in every situation, not just in particularly churchy settings. Every field is to be viewed as a mission field. Every encounter is to be approached as a potential rescue mission. Our vocations, our employments, are about something far more important than earning a living. What value that, if we have forfeited life in pursuit of living? What value that, if we have left those around us to walk in death because we simply couldn’t be bothered? What a challenge, this! To conduct ourselves in accord with our paternity: It’s harder than it sounds, isn’t it? It’s harder to shake off those things we learned from our first father, and to take upon ourselves the things of our true Father. Indeed, if I read Jesus aright here, we cannot take them upon ourselves. We depend upon that inward work that He is doing. And yet, as I say, we remain actively, intimately involved in the process, for God shows no regard for the sluggard, ant this holds more strongly in matters of spiritual maturation than anywhere else. “If anyone will not work, neither let him eat” (2Th 3:10). Think upon that in this matter of spiritual progress. I believe it holds.
We are utterly dependent, and yet we are fully responsible. It’s a bit of a paradox, but it is an integral part of this life of faith. Branch never chose the vine it was on, but the Vine caused the branch to grow. Yet, if that branch fails to bear, it is cut off. It’s a partnership, but we remain very clearly the junior partners. Jesus stresses this point in the next part of His discourse. “You didn’t choose Me. I chose you” (Jn 15:16), and this He did for a specific purpose, to a particular end: That we should both go forth and be fruitful. Here, we once more encounter that promise that Father will grant whatever we ask in Jesus’ name. And once more, we must understand that the ‘whatever’ is bound by His authority, built upon His abiding presence and our maturity arising from the same. We cannot expect that whatever to cover every last whim we may have. I can pray for sunny days in the mid seventies from this day forth, but I cannot suppose for a moment that God finds Himself bound by my prayer, required to do my bidding. Far be it from Him! No, my bidding is selfish and stupid except it is shaped and guided by His. That limit remains on the promise to answer and to give. What we ask in His name, what we ask by His authorization; that, the Father will gladly do, for He authorizes only that which glorifies the Father.
Coming to verse 7, we begin to get a clearer answer to what this commanded abiding is about. “If you abide in Me and My words abide in you.” This, too, is set as a prerequisite for expecting answered prayer. Now, in this case, the words Jesus mentions are no longer logos, but rhema. We’ve gone from the whole body of His teaching by which we were pruned, to the specifics. If we hear this verse as a parallel thought to verse 10, it would not seem unreasonable to think of those specific words as His command, His commission. In that light, to have His words abiding in us indicates that we are heeding His command, obeying His command. It indicates that we are pursuing His commission. And what is that? Why, to go and make disciples, of course.
[Returning to text 04/01/12] An interesting question comes up in connection with verse 6, and again at verse 8. In these two verses, we have a series of verbs given in the Aorist Indicative. That indicative part makes these verbs out to be matters of certainty. There is no least chance that they are not going to happen. There is no contingency clause remaining to be satisfied. It is writ. Yet, the aorist tense makes for a degree of ambiguity as to whether this is a matter of the thing being done, or the thing being yet to be done. I probably would not have noticed this except that Young’s Literal Translation renders all three in the past tense. Thus, in verse 6, they have, “he was cast forth without as the branch, and was withered,” and in verse 8, “In this was my Father glorified.”
I will say this: using the past tense provides the sense of certainty that the Indicative mood requires. But, it also makes for a bit of a shock. If anyone does not abide in Me, he was thrown away, he was withered. I would note that this matter of being withered remains in the Passive voice, too. It was done to the branch. The vital necessities of life were withheld from it. Water was removed, sap cut off. On the obverse of the situation, we find that Father was already glorified by the fact that you, actively in the present, bear much fruit.
If I consider this in light of the statement made in verse 5, the idea of these things being certain because they have already been done does not seem quite so unlikely to me. “Apart from Me you can do nothing.” If we take Jesus at His word, which surely we must, then we must recognize that our state as being in or apart from Him is not a matter of our own volition. None may come to Him except the Father has called them (Jn 6:44). And, of course, we have that most marvelous of assurances that no man and no power can snatch us from the Father’s hands (Jn 10:28-29).
It is worth remembering: He has made the call. If we are numbered amongst the called, then there is no question of our being fruitful. By our fruitfulness, which is the result of His work as our vinedresser, His work within us, empowering us both to will and to work (Php 2:13), He has already been glorified. Indeed, it would not be difficult to imagine the Apostles rejoicing as they comprehended the scope of what Jesus had just achieved in His ministry. It is not at all difficult to sense that John or Paul or Peter or any of the others glorified God in the extreme as the came to understand that this Gospel they were constrained to preach was going to impact far more than little Israel, far more, even than the Roman Empire, but was going forth to all peoples in all ages. Think of John, having that vision of the vast multitudes gathered to worship the Living King of kings! Where did they come from? From the fruitful vine over which he had done his part in the tending, as well as in being fruitful himself. Oh, to be sure, God was glorified. And, He continues to be glorified to this day because of the change He has wrought in His children!
At the same time, there is that darker side of such a perspective, that those who are truly lost have no hope of becoming the found. The branch in which it has been determined there shall be no fruit has already been cut off (else it would be fruitful), has already been withered, purposefully cut off from that which might give life. Here, I think it is most useful to consider Paul’s words as he considered the situation of his countrymen in light of the ministry reaching out to the Gentile nations. “See both the kindness and the severity of God in this! He is severe towards the fallen, but toward you He is kind if you continue in His kindness. If you do not, you will surely be cut off” (Ro 11:22).
As one thinks on these things, it is necessary to remember that there was indeed a season when, from all outward appearances, and from all inward assessment, we would have been numbered amongst those who were cut off. We were not, as Paul points out, even part of the vine whatsoever, but rather, we were of the brambles which choked off the vine. Yet, our tender Gardener has seen to it that we were grafted into the True Vine. Now, the greater truth of this picture is that every branch that is in the True Vine is grafted in. We are all adopted children, and not children of God by nature. It is thus that Paul makes the point that there is no room for the natural branch to boast. Never mind that it was found unfruitful. It wasn’t natural. On the other hand, we who have been grafted in (which I shall maintain covers the full number of all believers through every age) dare not presume upon that which has been done on our behalf. “He is kind if you continue in His kindness.” We have an active role in that. The continuing lies with us to achieve. It is all in His power, yet it is all our doing. We’re back at paradox, which happens so often in considering this relationship of God’s will and power to our responsibility and culpability.
We must do our part in persevering, in continuing, in holding fast to that which has been done on our behalf, because “if we do not, we will surely be cut off.” It matters not how firmly one’s feet are planted in the theology of Calvin. It matters not how fully confident we are of our predestined status. There can be no taking for granted the benevolence of God. There can be confidence in Him. There can be the assurance that we are able to persevere precisely because He is willing and working in us. But, there can be no laying back and simply waiting for Him to get the job done. It’s our job.
More than that, it must surely be our joy. Think about that other assured outcome of verse 8. My Father is (has been) glorified by the fact that you and I bear much fruit. What does that mean? What does it mean for the Father to be glorified? Isn’t He thoroughly and unchangeably glorious whether we render Him our love or we don’t? He is God! Does His majesty depend on our respect for Him? If all men are found to be liars, is He any less Truthful? Of course not. In the sense that Glory is of His essence, it cannot and does not depend on any external inputs. He is glorious, He is magnificent. He is the very definition of these things, just as He defines Truth and Love and Peace. On the other hand, His glory is most generally not to be observed by the eyes of man. Indeed, He has caused it to be written that no man can see His face and live, which we understand to be the case because of our innate sinfulness.
Yet, there have been those who caught a glimpse. Moses, of course, was set in a place where he could watch the glory of the Lord pass by. Not the face, then, but the glory, enough of that most essential glory as to make his own face glow for days thereafter! But, for the majority even of the faithful, there is no such opportunity given. We are left to worship One we have not seen. And yet, we know – let there be no doubt about it: we KNOW! – that He Is. We have not seen Him, but we have assuredly met Him. And this mission He leaves us with, of making Him known, ought surely to be our delight.
We ourselves never saw His glory, certainly not in that most visceral sense that Moses saw, or Peter, James and John saw it up on the mountain that one night. No! Yet, we know His glory. We are aware of His majesty. So, we accept the task. That task is to make that same dignity and worth that we have come to know a thing known by others. We are tasked with making that which is invisible in God visible. Again I shall appeal to Paul’s words. “Since the creation of the world His invisible attributes have been clearly seen through what has been made” (Ro 1:20). That’s our task! It’s well and good for the trees and clouds to testify of His creative agency, and they do! But, they cannot really express His Goodness, His Truth. They cannot relay the message of Mercy. No mountain, however majestic its heights, can relay to a man that there is Forgiveness to be found in Jesus. Nothing in all the cosmos is going to lead one to believe that Atonement has been made on our behalf. It takes man to reveal these things to men. That’s our job, to complete the picture which nature has drawn, causing the dignity and worth of this God we know to be acknowledged by others. That is the true missionary labor. We cannot save. We cannot cause a single soul to be numbered amongst the called. But, we can finish the picture. We can provide the details that nature cannot. We can make His invisible attributes clearly seen and thereby necessitate the acknowledgement of the glory of our God. Arguably, this shall be necessitated even amongst those who do not fall within the number of the called. For, in the end, every knee shall bow and every tongue shall confess that He is Lord. Never was it promised that all who do this shall be pleased to have done so. But, they shall do it, for His glory shall be manifest, and very, very present.
I realize that this particular study has been drifting in a rather pedantic direction. Honestly, that seems to be a bit of a trend for me. Perhaps its simply the effect of actively teaching these days. Be that as it may, there just seems to be a deal of difficulty, or at least curiosity, in what John relays to us in these passages. It would be tempting to put the blame on John’s mysticism, or some such, but then he is only relaying to us what Jesus said, not telling his own story. The wording may be colored somewhat by the distinct nature of John’s memories, but I doubt not that they are accurate. So, then, if there is a challenge in the wording, it is because the Teacher speaks, and the student must expend the due labor to understand.
Here is today’s challenge: In verse 8, the majority of translations speak of how our bearing much fruit proves that we are disciples of Jesus. Yet, the word translated as ‘proves’ is geneesthe, a form of ginomai, which generally takes upon itself the idea of becoming. To be caused to be, to be made, to be fulfilled. Only in Louw and Nida do I find something that even approaches the idea of proving, and that lies in a definition given as, “to possess certain characteristics, with the implication of their having been acquired,” or, “to conduct oneself in a particular manner.” Now, it must be noted that this verb is given us in the Middle Voice, where the subject acts in relation to himself. You make yourself a disciple. You are personally involved, and have an active hand in the effort. Whether you choose to view it as allowing the thing to happen, or causing the thing to happen, the will of the subject is engaged. It is in the Aorist tense, as well, in this case seemingly presenting us with that ‘external viewpoint’ that concerns itself with the whole of the action rather than with the specifics of a beginning or end of the action.
So, then, whether fruitfulness is to be seen as proof of discipleship or the activity which makes the disciple may well be the wrong question. It might be better to consider that the two are inseparable states. One cannot be a fruitless disciple, and one cannot bear fruit worth mentioning except he is a disciple. The works of the unbeliever may appear good to our sight, but in the sight of God they are just as valueless as our own. It should be stressed that the obverse holds as well. Our works are just as valueless as theirs. The works do not earn us a place. They do not, at least in that sense, make us disciples. We cannot work ourselves up to being sons of God. At the same time, though, we cannot be sons of God who do no work. I do not even dare to take up the sense of our works fulfilling our purpose as disciples, as sons of God. That nears the acceptable, but it still leaves too much room for ego to rise up and take credit to which it has no rights. If there are works to which we can point, it is because of God in us. It is because that vine to which we are attached has caused life to flow through us. If there is any good in me, it can only be of He who works within that I might will and work as He desires. If I have become a disciple, it is by His hand alone. If I fulfill my purpose as a disciple, it remains by His hand alone, although I must be active in the process. Something in me insists that if I am active in the process, though it is my will involved, it is His will that remains in the driver’s seat. It has become impossible, because He Is, that I would not be active in the process, more impossible still that I would actively oppose the process. My will is in it, but it is in it because He lives in me.
What, then, is the purpose of our being proved disciples? It is to glorify God. It is not primarily to boost our own confidence, or establish our hope. No. That hope is established already, and our confidence must not lie in our own achievements (as if they were ever our own!) but rather in Him Whose achievement made our reconciliation with God possible. The fruit is not the result of our being a particularly adept branch, but rather it is the result of that Vine from which we grow. It is not, then, the proof to God that we are obeying Him. It is the proof of God, given to the watching world, that He is indwelling us. It is the power of a living example, of a life obviously and evidently changed from past habit. It is the clear distinction in behavior between one indwelt by God and one still enslaved to the devil which glorifies God, because that change is nothing man has done for himself, but something only He could do.
All of this builds me up for the verse I had noticed a week and more past, and set here with the comment, “for next Tuesday”. That comment was set down because it seemed an apt verse to have on hand for Tuesday night prayer at church. And, it still strikes me so. On the other hand, here it is, a ‘next Tuesday,’ and God has sovereignly arranged that this verse should be the topic upon which I set my eyes as I take up this study once more. Sometimes His humor amazes me.
Keep it connected to that first paragraph, though. Our discipleship, our fruitfulness in the things of the Spirit, glorifies God. The fact that it is a certainty because of His hand means it has already glorified God. How is that? Because it is ‘the proof provided by this ministry,’ as Paul wrote of the effort of the Macedonians in supporting Jerusalem. Because of that proof, ‘they will glorify God for your obedience to your confession of the Gospel of Christ’ (2Co 9:13). I am cutting the verse a bit short, but only because I don’t wish to focus on the matter of monetary contribution. I wish to focus on the matter of ‘obedience to your confession’. That’s what we’re talking about here. That’s the fruit that grows of being in the Vine. It shows up over and over in what Jesus speaks. Here, it is very simple. “Abide in My love. If you keep My commandments, you will abide in My love” (verses 9 & 10). And is it not wonderful that our Teacher sets the example in this? “Just as I have done with My Father.” He doesn’t ask of us what He would not do Himself. This is a clear distinction between our Teacher and the Pharisees. You will never hear from Him, “do as I say, not as I do.” No! It is ever, “Do as you have seen Me doing, for I do as I see My Father doing.”
The Apostles took this to heart, and were able to make similar demands in their own teaching. Emulate me as I emulate Jesus. We read of these advisories from their pens, and we are amazed. This is perhaps the saddest commentary on the state of faith in our day. We are amazed that there were once men who were willing to suggest such a thing. We are amazed to learn that there were these pillars of the church whose walk was of such constancy that they could set themselves as examples of what a godly life looked like. There was no qualification set upon what part of their example should be followed. It was not do as you see me doing when we gather as a church, but skip what I do in the world of commerce. There was no excluding what the apostle was like at home. No exception. This was so, of course, because there was no exception in their day. They were the same men at home and at work as they were at temple. There was no bifurcation of person. There was no on/off switch attached to their faith.
Some of that could be attributed to their vocation. Yet, we know Paul continued to earn his own keep even as he sought to promulgate the Gospel and to make established disciples capable of continuing absent his presence. As a tentmaker, his godliness was no different than as a preacher. His labor was as much a vocation, as much a divine assignment, as was his ministry. There was no boundary, so far as he viewed things. Of course, society was far more inclined towards belief in some form of god than we might suppose it to be today. The bulk of those gods were in reality demons in disguise, but the spiritual side of life was more commonly understood than one might suppose it to be in our own day. Some would hold that to be evidence of our progress. I dare say that the failure to recognize spiritual realities is evidence of our regress.
Come back to the passage, though. “Because of the proof provided by this ministry they will glorify God for your obedience to your confession of the gospel of Christ.” That is so powerful! If it is not my reality today, then I need to be pursuing an answer as to how it can be made so. If there is no obedience to my confession to which people can point, what is the value of all this effort of study and reflection? It is null and void. It is a glaze applied to keep my eyes from seeing my true estate, and that would be worse than the ignorance of unbelief!
Our obedience to our confession is the proof. It is the proof to ourselves in some degree. But, more to the point, it is the proof given a world in darkness. It is that light set upon the hill. It is the salt we are called to be. Choose your metaphor. Jesus provides many from which to select. But, in all of it, it is this obedience to our own confession that stands out. Now, we must recognize that in order for our obedience to our own confession to stand out, there must necessarily be a confession. If you believe and confess, you will be saved, Paul writes (Ro 10:9). Actually, he ranks the confession part higher, giving it first place. If you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord… This is not a matter of confessing sins, although that also has its place in the life of faith. No! This is a matter of making public proclamation of faith. This is coming out of your Christian closet. It is being loud and proud about the Jesus who saved you.
If you think that’s hard in our society, try it in the Rome of Paul’s day, when such a statement marked you as an atheist, a rebel against the state, a danger to society. Try that when such a confession is as good as signing your own death warrant. And, what holds our tongue? The thought that maybe one of our coworkers will think less of us if they know? What holds our tongues as well is the realization that if we once confess the Truth of our faith, then we’re going to be binding ourselves to a much greater effort towards living like Christians in the world at large. If my car is loudly proclaiming that its driver is a man of God, then I had best be driving in accord with the law. No more speeding, even if the speed limit does seem ridiculously low. No more shaking my fist (or worse), at some driver whose skills I consider suspect. Indeed, I should be making room for others to cut me off, considering their haste to get where their going as more important than my own schedule.
If I have set Christian posters upon the wall of my cubicle, had I not best ensure that whilst in that cubicle, I am not wasting company time? I must not be cruising the web while on the clock, nor playing solitaire. Neither, to be honest, ought I to be taking up company time to proselytize. But, these are just outward show, right? I could be doing, or not doing, all these things and still be a worldly man whilst I am about the world. Absolutely! Yes! The effort must go much further than these outward matters. The effort must be inward. And, for that effort to have any value at all, it must be that sort of effort which is far and away beyond me to supply.
We arrive right back at, “apart from Me you can do nothing.” That’s the thing. That’s the whole of the thing. We cannot be apart from Him. If there is one place where I must make an effort, it is in preserving the intimacy, the immediacy of that connection with my Savior. Let this be my resolve, then. For, I am mindful of that besetting sin which ever rises up to greet me, to slap me. I keep seeking for how I can achieve my own victory over this thing, and the answer is not in confronting it head on. The answer is in this matter of remaining close-coupled to the Vine.
Lord, if I have been distant, if I have been negligent of my first love, forgive me. Take me back. Draw me ever closer, my Beloved. Draw me ever closer. Keep me, somehow, mindful of Your nearness through my day. When the urge to ungodliness arises in me, do Thou countervail. Let it be that Your image, Your thoughts, would arise before my mind’s eye and occlude the temptation. Lead me not into temptation, Lord. No, nor allow me to lead myself, which is clearly the case. Block my path to sin, Jesus, for these feet remain too keen to stumble down that trail. Cleanse my thoughts, for they are too quick to contemplate the breech of Your rule over me. Cast down any vain, egotistical thought in me, that seeks to convince me that I am sufficient in myself, that I am somehow immune to the conviction of Your words. Grant me, Lord, to come to that place that I, too, can speak with Paul, “Do as you see me doing, as I do what I see my Lord and Savior doing.”
Holy God, I thank You for that growth I know You have achieved in me. Yet, I am painfully aware that the growth remains stunted. It could be better. I am in need of pruning, much though I dread the pruning shears. I set myself at Your mercy, and under Your tender ministration, dear God. Do as You must that this branch of Yours may bear fruit to Your glory.
[04/04/12] It remains for me to consider the final verse in this passage, in particular the clause, “that My joy may be in you,” or, as the NKJV has it, may remain in you. Now, it must be noted right off that there is nothing to translate as remain. The only verb in the area is ee, a condition form of eimi, to be, thus might or may. Let us, then, drop the remain, as being a bit subjective. It is “that My joy may be in you.” The bigger question in my mind is whether we ought to view that in the same way that we view our possessing His righteousness. In that case, we look at His righteousness as having been imputed to us, put on our account. It is treated as being our own even though it remains truly His. We are not righteous in ourselves, but because He has, as it were, clothed us in His righteousness.
Should we construe this issue of His joy in the same fashion? Would it be right to suggest that we have no joy in ourselves, but because He has credited His own joy to our account, we are said to have joy? While it would be tempting to read that sort of meaning into the passage, I don’t believe that is how we should understand it. We do have joy. It may be well founded or otherwise, but we do have joy. Even the most reprehensible of sinners has an experience of joy. Even Pharaoh, for all his heart was hardened, had personal experience of joy. The key to understanding this, I think, lies in the formulation of the closing clause of the verse: “That your joy may be made full.”
That particular formulation is something John uses with some regularity. We hear it as he relays the account of John the Baptist. That one speaks of his joy made full by hearing the bridegroom’s voice, by knowing Messiah has arrived (Jn 3:29). There are also two further occasions in this long discourse where the phrase arises. Jesus notes that, “until now you have asked for nothing in My name. Now, ask, and you will receive in order that your joy may be made full” (Jn 16:24). I want to hold that other occurrence for a moment, and go to John’s letters. There, closing his letter to the chosen sister, he writes, “I hope to come see you, speak to you face to face, that your joy may be made full” (2Jn 12).
In all of these cases it is reasonably certain that the point of joy being filled is that the desires of the joyful one have been fully met. John’s greatest desire was to find Messiah had come. Thus, his comparison to that situation with the friend of the bridegroom. In that particular office, the friend’s greatest pleasure lies in knowing his duty fully performed, and the bridegroom successfully united with his bride. The friend does not partake of the pleasures of the matrimonial suite, but this does not lessen his joy in the least. His friend is supremely blessed in his circumstance and this in turn blesses him.
Along the same lines, that one who receives from God what he has requested knows his desires fully met. Now, given the nature of what we can presume ourselves authorized to request on the authority of our Lord and Savior, it is not some sense of personal gratification that completes the joy. It is not that we find our material wants met and overflowing. It is that the things we have desired to do on behalf of the kingdom, we are empowered to do. That one we so hoped would be found amongst the called is found to be among the called. That one who had walked in darkness, whom we hoped to bring into the light, to bring into the Life, has come. The Life of Christ is manifestly visible in his countenance now. And in this is our joy made complete! Not that there won’t be another cause for asking tomorrow, not that there don’t remain many others we would see come to Christ, but this event, this one lamb is in the fold, and there is much rejoicing.
The odd verse out, it seems to me, is John 17:13. But, there, the formulation is distinctly different. I will quote this one exactly from the NASB. “But now I come to Thee; and these things I speak in the world, that they may have My joy made full in themselves.” Note the difference. Here it is specifically, My joy made full in themselves. This does smack of impartation. But, in the present verse, the formulation is more in keeping with other occurrences. My joy will be in you. That is one clause. Your joy may be made full. That is another. This would seem to indicate that the reason for our joy being so complete is that He finds joy in us.
Note that in this case, ‘you’ is in the Dative Case. We might therefore view that ‘you’ as the means by which Jesus’ joy comes to be. That is in keeping with the general flow of His thoughts. If you keep My commandments, you abide in My love. You follow My example, as I have done just this thing with My Father. I tell you this, all about obedience, all about retaining that intimacy necessary for the branch and the vine, so that I may find you to be a cause for joy. And you, knowing you have given Me joy, will know your own joy complete.
This is somewhat in keeping with Paul’s words to the Corinthian church. He notes his previous letter, how it was written to avoid any distress being caused him when he came in person. “I would not be distressed by those who ought to make me rejoice” (2Co 2:3). This continues with a note of confidence. “I have confidence in you all, that my joy would be your joy.” This is to say that they, knowing they were a cause for Paul to rejoice rather than for him to be in dismay, would be joyful themselves. Or, to put it in the negative, that the thought of distressing Paul would distress them in turn. In short, this matter of joy, as Paul speaks of it and as Jesus speaks of it, is a matter of connectedness. It is a reflection of that intimacy of faith. It is, particular to Jesus, emblematic of that vine / branch relationship. It is the evidence of sap flowing, the assurance of fruitfulness.
Indeed, what is more pleasing to us than to find that we have been found useful in the kingdom? Whether this is measured in converts made, in disciples trained, in teaching imparted, or even simply in personal growth, when we know what we have done is cause for joy to our Lord Jesus, it is cause for that much more joy in ourselves. When, on the other hand, we know our actions are counter to His desire, when we know we have stumbled headlong into sin, and that most willingly, it is cause for deepest sorrow. We know we are breaking His heart, and yet we know we have done it anyway. We know, as my dear brother set the image for me, that we are adding to the burden of grief He bore on the cross. Yet, this is insufficient to turn us back to the Way. We must have our little diversion, and then we’ll get back to Him. And still, He forgives.
Coming up on this holiest of days on our Christian calendar, the day on which Jesus was lifted upon the cross to pay for this infinite bill of sins we accrue, and of equal criticality, the day on which He rose up from the grave in victory, bearing in His own being the proof of God’s acceptance of that sacrifice He offered up on our behalf, how good it is to think upon this situation. May I allow this truth to sink in, to be a forceful reminder to those nagging desires that even now seek to rise up in me. There is no joy in falling. The seeming pleasures of sin are so fleeting as to be no joy at all. And, knowing the sorrow to which those false pleasures lead, what joy can there be?
Oh, to think upon these things! In obedience to my Lord and Savior, I am assured of His joy in me, and knowing that, I am doubly certain of the joy I shall experience myself. The opposite condition is equally certain. If I insist on continuing in my pursuit of false pleasures, I shall surely find my joy utterly absent. In either direction, then, lies completeness: either the completeness of joy, or the completeness of its absence. Is that not, in the end, the story of final judgment? To those on the right, there is the ultimate completeness of joy: an eternity ahead in which to experience the fullness of His presence and of His companionship. To the left, there is the completeness of despair: an eternity ahead in which there is not the least possibility of ever coming into His presence, an eternity devoid of companionship, devoid of anything worth calling Life, and yet also devoid of death as we understand it. Ceaseless regret, ceaseless remorse; yet those words can hardly be supposed to suffice in describing what befalls those who come to their end without the gift of faith.
For those of us who number ourselves amongst the called, may we consider that image and find in it every cause to be stirred from complacency! I have begun, in the last few days, to prepare myself for teaching through the book of Amos. How timely! How fitting a companion to the thoughts stirred by this study. The greatest danger to us as believers, it seems, is to know the fullness of our own joy. For, we are inclined to confuse joy with material satiety. We are best pleased with that form of religion that allows us to think we’re doing OK, and nothing much needs changing. And so, we are seduced away from the Way of righteousness, and become deaf to the corrective, directing voice of our God. May this not be our story.
May it not be my story! For, I am ever mindful of that point God relays to Isaiah: “I will not contend forever, neither will I always be angry” (Isa 57:16). Yes, I understand that the context suggests rather a relenting on God’s part, lest our spirit faint before His onslaught. But, there is the darker side of that message which is evident in the judgments that every prophet of God saw must come. If we will not respond, there will come a point beyond which the opportunity to repent is removed. Consider the pronouncements Jesus was making over Jerusalem during this final week of His ministry. “They will level you to the ground because you did not recognize the time of your visitation” (Lk 19:44). Or, simply recall that business with the fig tree. You should have been bearing fruit by now. Because you are not, you never shall. These are words to strike reverent fear into the heart of any true believer.
Lord, don’t let this be my story! Find in me a true son, a son willing and able to repent of every last thing that causes you sorrow. I am not so foolish as to think I am already in that place, for I know my own sorrow too well, that it lies in having caused you sorrow too often. There is too much in me that is worthy of regret, too much that remains to be done. I am even now aware of that which would rise up in me and thumb its nose at what You want. I am even now aware of how weak I am, how unwilling I am to be about Your business when I’d rather pursue my leisure. But, God! Create in me a clean heart. Remove this stony blot in my soul and restore it to fleshy health. I know that you are working in me, bringing about the capacity to be willing myself, and to work in Your strength. Yet, I never feel aught but weak. I feel so inadequate. Perhaps that is well, that humbling of the flesh. But, I would that I saw more progress and less regress. Come, Lord! Come and do that work You desire to do in me, and let me be found ready to comply with your efforts, to work hand in hand with You apart from Whom I can do nothing, apart from Whom I am nothing.
