You Are the Branches, a sermon based on John 15: 1-8, preached on April 28, 2024

You might remember Fran Dresher from the 90’s sitcom, The Nanny, or more recently, as she led actors’ and writers’ strikes. Last week, I heard her tell a joke on a show that I like to watch, Somebody Feed Phil, and since this joke is inspired by the book of Genesis, I thought I’d include it in my sermon this morning. God was talking with Adam about creating for him a wife, so God told him, “Here’s what I’m thinking. She’ll never complain, and she’ll always tell you that you’re right about everything.” Adam said to God, “She sounds great. What’s she going to cost me.” God said, “An arm and a leg.” Adam asked, “What will you give me for a rib?” Forgive me for telling a joke like that. It’s not an appropriate joke for the pulpit, but I tell it because while initially, a partner who never complains and tells me that I’m right about everything sounds wonderful, I don’t know where I would be if my wife agreed with me all the time. When we’re lost, Sara is the first to tell me. When I’m wrong, she lets me know. Rather than tell me I look perfect, she bought me nose hair trimmers and other gifts that have helped me when I look less than perfect. I could go on and on with the ways she has cared enough to help me in my imperfection. I used to ask her to read my sermons the day before I preached them, and she didn’t tell me they were perfect. She loved me too much for that. She took out a page at least, and because of that level of honesty, I trust her more than I trust anyone else. I trust her not because she always tells me that I’m right, but because she tells me when I’m wrong. Likewise, I value honest feedback from you, the congregation, and I expect it from our staff. With friends, I’m the same way. I trust friends who are honest with me, so when I think of that old hymn, “What a friend we have in Jesus,” I know what kind of a friend we have in Him. Is He the friend who always tells me that I’m right and they’re wrong, or is Jesus the kind of friend who holds up a mirror to me, saying, “You’re worth a rib, but not an arm and a leg.” We all have some work to do on ourselves, and so I tell you Jesus is the kind of friend who loves us as we are yet loves us too much to leave us as we are, so to help us get closer to being our best selves, God is at work in our lives, pruning our bad habits as a vine grower prunes dead limbs. That’s the Gospel lesson for today. He is the vine; we are the branches. God is the vine grower who prunes us, yet remember that getting pruned is not the same thing as being cut off from the vine. Plenty of people have struggled to understand the difference. People who misunderstand pruning don’t like being told that they’re wrong. They don’t like advice. They can’t take criticism. In struggle, they fall apart. When things don’t go their way, they throw up their hands, giving up and giving in, maybe because they think they’re perfect already or else because they’ve confused being pruned with being cut off from the vine. When I’m not my best self, that’s what I do. Last Sunday, Rev. Cassie Waits was giving the children’s sermon. She asked those kids if they thought I knew everyone in the church’s name, and they said “yes.” Well, this past week, I’ve proven those kids wrong more than once. I was tired on Friday afternoon, and I called two people by the wrong name. I didn’t say, “Hey, buddy,” or something like that. I said, “Good to see you, Sam,” and he said, “The name’s Alex.” Ten minutes later, I did the same thing again with another person I know and love. Because I was tired, these two mistakes sent me down a shame spiral. I started thinking not only did I fail to honor those two people I care about, but I also let all the kids in the church down. They had me up on a pedestal, and now I’ve fallen from it. Should I turn in my letter of resignation now and apologize to all the kids this coming Sunday? That’s probably an overreaction, and once I had a nap, I thought better of it. After a nap, I could see that it’s one thing to say, “I made a mistake,” and it’s another thing to say, “I am a mistake.” Humility is one thing, and being humiliated is another. Shame sends us down a spiral. Shame is the feeling that we are being cut off from the vine and thrown into the fire, and so I ask you to think about pruning this morning so that we all remember that being pruned and being cut off from the vine are not the same thing, for “you are the branches,” Jesus said. That’s not just a good thing: It is a miraculous thing. It is a miraculous thing to be a branch attached to the vine in the sense that when we hear criticism, when we are pushed, when we face trials, it may be God’s hand at work in our lives enabling us to do more and to be more. Being pruned is not the same thing as being cut off from the vine, for we are the branches. So many teachers help us remember that because they help us learn and grow without kicking us out of their classes. So many coaches do the same when they push us, making us better, without ever giving up on us as people. Today we are celebrating Stephen Ministers, and this is exactly what Stephen Ministers do. They stick with people after those major life prunings. They listen to people after they’ve been left or laid off. They’re there after the divorce to remind them that not everyone will leave. Not everyone will walk away. God will never leave you nor forsake you; however, this good news can be hard to believe for we live in a culture where people don’t get criticized, they get canceled. Years ago, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. preached a sermon in which he mentioned science and technology and cautioned the congregation, saying, “there is a sort of poverty of the spirit which stands in glaring contrast to our scientific and technological abundance… We have learned to fly the air like birds and swim the sea like fish, but we have not learned the simple art of living together.” In other words, we have the technology to have a conversation that involves millions of people on social media, but read through your Facebook feed and tell me if our moral maturity and our spiritual depth have caught up with our technology. These days, when one expresses an opinion, those who agree cheer and those who disagree cut you off. I’m tired of it. I’m so tired of the “you’re either with me or you’re against me” mentality. To think that you either agree with me or you’re wrong is a mentality that will not advance our society; this willingness to give up on each other is not good for the national conversation and it’s not good for our souls because if we were to lose all the friends we disagree with, we would be isolated and alone. Our Gospel lesson this morning is telling us that God is different. God chooses to stick with you even if you’ve put your foot in your mouth. God chooses not to reject His people but to prune them, refine them, help them to grow. And if that’s God, then how should we be? There’s a great joke about a man who was shipwrecked on a desert island. For two or three years, he lived there all alone, but one day a rescue boat pulled up to the shore. He’d been saved, but before he left the island, he wanted to give his rescuers a tour. On his island were three huts. He pointed to the first one and said, “That’s the home I built.” Then, he pointed to the second, “And that’s my church.” Wanting to know what the third hut was, the rescuers asked about it, and the man said, “That’s the church I used to go to. They made me mad and so I left.” My friends, we can’t storm out on each other. We can’t storm out on each other, not if we are modeling our lives on the God who never storms out on us. We can’t give up on others, and that starts with not giving up on ourselves. We are the branches. We are the branches. We are beloved. We are accepted. We will be changed, challenged, and pushed to grow, but that’s because we are loved, valued, and worthy to bear much fruit. May we all trust in this promise so that we endure the pruning, not with resistance, but with faith, knowing that God is not done with us yet. Halleluiah. Amen