Pruning is a careful but severe act.

A branch that is pruned does not look the same. The branches that are pruned sometimes look hopelessly dead–for a time.

The gardener doesn’t only cut stems of the branch that are unhealthy but ones that are perfectly good.

These cuts are not to harm the branch but to cause it to be stronger, healthier, and more fruitful.

At the very place that the cut is made, that is where new growth occurs. There the branches sprout new stems and tendrils cling to the support; and from those new buds, by the deliberate intention of the gardener, the fruit grows. 

The anticipation of pruning is scary. He’s not exactly predictable, right? What if he prunes something that’s important to me? What if it hurts more than I can deal with? What if I can’t obey him in it? The cost feels great and the fear of losing control is terrifying.

But what does it cost to hold on, to resist pruning? If the branches are neglected, they will grow any which way, will be prone to disease, and won’t have the opportunity for the growth and fruit produced by pruning.

The Father carefully cuts away anything that does not produce fruit. Do I want to keep growing something that is fruitless?

When he tends our hearts, it is to produce lasting fruit: fruit borne out of faith in his love and in Jesus’ work of redemption. He will remove everything that is the fruit of fear, of self-sufficiency, or our prideful human effort.

In his discussion of vines and pruning and fruit, Jesus doesn’t stop there. He says that he loves his disciples, the ones who follow him, the ones he calls “branches,” the way the Father loves him.

The way the Father loves Jesus, Jesus loves you.

So, he says, live in that love. Live knowing he loves you.

Only when we determine to abide in his love can we gladly receive pruning.

Jesus said to his disciples that they were already clean (the word clean here is related to the word pruned) because of the words he had spoken to them. His word, sharper than a sword and able to clearly discern between spirit and soul, cleanses us. And we live in his love by deliberately living in his words–reminding our hearts of his words and preaching to ourselves of his love.

He also said that if we keep his commands, we will stay in his love.

What is his command? Love one another.

Have you ever noticed how impossible it is to love others without the love of God at work in our hearts? When I am not drenched in the knowledge of his love for me, I am not pouring out love for my neighbors, least of all for my family.

But when I have focused my eyes on the fierce and tender love of Father God–who created the world but is close enough to hear my whispered secret hopes; who is acquainted with my gross selfishness, yet makes room for me to come again and again to his throne for grace–then in that humble place of receiving, I’m able to give.

Jesus did not only say to love one another. He said to love one another the way he loved. Real, self-sacrificing, others-focused, heaven-generated love. Not love of convenience, love motivated by gain, or even affectionate love. Love that recognizes the cost and still gives. Love that holds nothing back.

I’m not good at that love. And the reason is because I am not as good at receiving that love from him as I am at evaluating how close I would like him to be. We will only be as close to Father as we will allow him. There are truths of the word that I have memorized by familiarity with the word but will only experience if I will allow him close enough to teach me by transformation.

Only what is done in love will remain.

Love is active, it is productive, and it is creative. His love at work is what grows from bud to blossom to fruit. And what is the purpose of fruit? It is not for decoration, but for consumption. The plant does not enjoy it–fruit left on the vine will rot. No, fruit does not grow for the sake of growth–it is to be shared, and once it is enjoyed, the seed of a fruit can be planted, die, and produce, what? More fruit.

What does this all depend on? The love of the Father, who cares for each branch of the vine.

It does not depend on my fruit manufacturing. It does not depend upon my contribution to the pruning. It does not rest on my correct assessment of my heart’s health. Thank you, God. My only responsibility is to depend on the skill of the gardener, who is ever so carefully working to separate what he knows is detrimental and to produce what is life-giving. He intends for us to be so aware of his love, so full of his joy, and so consumed with the hope of his glory, that the pruning is received as care and love.

“I have told you these things so you may have my joy in you, and that your joy may be full.”

It is always worth it. The cost is nothing in comparison to the full measure of his joy.

John 15:1-17