God told Abram, “All people on earth will be blessed through you” (Gen. 12:3). He was not pointing to Isaac. Nor to Jacob, the first Israel; even though he brought blessing where he went, he was not the perfection of the promise—of God’s covenant. Similarly the sons of Jacob were not the realization of the oath. The nation of Israel was unfaithful, rebelling against God.
Israel is described throughout the Old Testament as a vine. Isaiah prophesied, “I will sing for the one I love a song about his vineyard: My loved one had a vineyard on a fertile hillside. He dug it up and cleared it of stones and planted it with the choicest vines. He built a watchtower in it and cut out a winepress as a well. Then he looked for a crop of good grapes, but it yielded only bad fruit” (Is. 5:1–2). Israel is the vine of God’s own planting, His own special people. God gave them everything, and everything they took. But when He looked for a crop of good grapes, they yielded Him nothing but bad fruit.
Jesus said, “I am the true vine” (Jn. 15:1). Jesus is the vine. Jesus is the true Israel, the true descendant of Abraham through whom the blessings promised to Abraham would (and do) forever flow. In Christ, the nation of Israel, the descendants of Abraham, the children of the promise, are vindicated. The old nation grew up mightily, but was cut down for its disobedience. Yet from the hacked off stump of Jesse, in all appearances dead and wrecked, a new shoot emerged, Jesus Christ, the true vine.
We are the branches. Notice, we are not the vine. Christ alone is the vine; He has supremacy in all things (cf. Col. 1:18). God has grafted us into the plant, taking what was wild and recreating it into something cultivated by its association to the root, the root which makes us holy (cf. Rom. 11:16-24). As part of the vine, we now share its life through the grace of God. “Our life is now hidden with Christ in God” (Col. 3:3). And while branches send nourishment back to the plant, the root remains their source and origin. Without branches, the vine will send out new branches. Without a root, the branches wither.
“He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit” (Jn. 15:2). As branches of the true vine, the expectation is that we will produce fruit. Branches are not left on the vine to solely to make leafy growth. We are not engrafted into Christ to make leafy growth. So what’s leafy growth?
Vines are prolific, putting out tons of leaves and runners. But a grapevine isn’t planted with the hope of making a large vegetative mess, nor for its flowers or wood. The vine is planted for the singular purpose of making grapes. When the vine produces lots of leafy growth, it is extending the branches and making lots of shade, but it fails to achieve its purpose, the production of fruit. The goal for the vinedresser is not to have lots of branches, but to have a strong, healthy root and enough vegetative growth to create much fruit.
We can grow leafy as well. When our spiritual lives focus on the self, we are producing leafy growth. A branch that looks solely to its own growth, extension, and increase is not healthy. Now, how can working on my own growth and development possibly be negative? Within the human body, what is unregulated cell growth called: cancer. In the Body of Christ, if one member grows without regard to the others, injury frequently results. The church in Corinth struggled with this very issue. St. Paul writes, “Be careful…that your exercise of freedom does not become a stumbling block for the weak” (1 Cor. 8:9). When a branch grows wild, it sucks up resources that would benefit other branches and it shades branches desperately in need of the sun. “Though I am free and belong to no man, I make myself a slave to everyone, to win as many as possible” (1 Cor. 9:19). So when I allow my spiritual life to take away, cover up, or impede my brothers, I am producing leafy growth.
When we don’t return the blessings we have received to God, we make leafy growth. The purpose of the branch’s connection to the vine is to bear fruit. When the branch takes life and takes life and takes life from the vine without producing the fruit that it ought, it is a parasite. It devours life and supplies nothing back. Our spiritual growth as branches of the true vine should lead us to greater union to God and love for Him. This will lead us to sharing more of our life with our fellow branches, as St. John writes, “If we love another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us” (1 Jn. 4:12).
When we don’t share the life we have received, we are putting out leafy growth. Fruitfulness is the purpose of the branch, the sign of its health. Fruit provides pleasure. When I eat a cluster of grapes, I enjoy the whole experience: the lovely red skins with the white bloom, the tense skin surrounding the sweet moist fruit, the juicy burst in my mouth, and the dozen grapes uneaten, still on the cluster. Fruit is delightful. Fruit is also meant to be carried away from the vine. The purpose of fruit is reproduction, the expansion and sharing of the life of the vine. Making fruit uses up part of the life the branch receives. And for me to make fruit requires letting go of what I’ve received. Fruitfulness requires sacrifice: it must be self-giving. When I fail the share with others the life that I have received, revealing to them how delightful being joined to Christ is, I fail to bear fruit and only make leafy growth.
Fruit, not leafy growth is the purpose of the vine. Fruit shares the life of the vine with others, fruit doesn’t exist for its own good, and it fulfills the purpose of the branch and the vine. Fruit also contains seed. And when we produce fruit, and share that fruit with others, seeds are planted. Sometimes we can clearly see the new life that the seed produces. Other times, it appears the fruit was produced in vain. But remember that sometimes the seed needs to be eaten and—how shall we put it—passed through the digestive tract, in order to be readied to grow.
We should focus on producing fruit and bearing and sharing it where God calls us to, more than worrying about what the result of the sharing will be. Sometimes the fruit will be received and planted; sometimes it will be consumed and excreted right out; and sometimes it will be eaten and cause spiritual diverticulitis.
As Christians, any discussion of vines and branches and fruit leads us to the most obvious product of the fruit: wine. At the mention of wine, we think at once of the Holy Eucharist. “Then he took the cup, gave thanks, and offered it to them, saying ‘Drink from it, all of you. This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins” (Mt. 26:27–28).
Throughout the Old and New Testaments, the cup symbolized God’s judgment, particularly wrath. The Psalmist writes, “For in the hand of the Lord there is a cup with foaming wine, well mixed; he will pour a draught from it, and all the wicked of the earth shall drain it to the dregs” (Ps. 75:8). And Jesus in the garden prayed, “Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done” (Lk. 22:42).
Wine and cup are inextricably joined together by Jesus. Through the death of Jesus, the cup of God’s wrath has been drained. And Jesus himself has refilled the cup again. This time not with foaming wine of wrath and judgment; rather, Jesus pours in wine and says, “This is my blood which is shed for you and for many for the forgiveness of sins.”
The fruit that we bear is crushed and becomes this wine, it becomes the blood of Christ. And there is life in the blood and there is power in the blood. Not through leafy growth, but through the bearing of fruit and the crushing of fruit, the cup of cursing has been overcome and redeemed to become the cup of blessing. “This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another” (1 Jn. 4:11–12). Share the life that you have received, grow in union with the rest of the vine, and return blessings to God. In these ways, we love one another and make atoning sacrifice.
