There's No Avoiding Pain for the Disciple
As I mentioned in a previous post, I’m trying to wrap my head around Jesus’ teaching on “abiding” in John 15. As I’ve meditated on the first two verses, I’ve come to the conclusion that anyone who follows Jesus should expect to suffer.
I’m not talking about suffering of persecution. There’s that, too, of course. Anyone who aligns his or her priorities with the King who has invaded our realm should expect to suffer at the hands of those who oppose that King. He told us to expect as much (John 15:18-25).
What I’m talking about is the inevitable suffering of the branches attached to the Vine, regardless of whether they are fruitful or barren.
As I’ve meditated on the first two verses of John 15, I’ve drawn two conclusions:
1. The vineyard is never in a static, settled state. Thanks to the ceaseless labor of the Vinedresser, the vineyard is constantly improving, constantly growing more fruitful.
2. The work of the Vinedresser is violent. He does a lot of cutting.
The Father – the Vinedresser in Jesus’ analogy – is ruthless with the shears.
Jesus describes it this way: “I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinedresser. Every branch in me that does not bear fruit he takes away, and every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, that it may bear more fruit” (John 15:1-2).
We are told that barren branches suffer the pain of being cut away. Later in the chapter we learn that those branches are gathered into bunches to be burned (v. 6). I’m still trying to work out what that means in the context of discipleship, but suffice it to say, this is one kind of suffering no one wants. (It is, perhaps, the suffering that would be faced in the coming days by Judas, one of the disciples who heard Jesus’ words that night.)
The fruitful branches do avoid that kind of suffering, but they don’t avoid suffering altogether. They too are cut back, pruned so that they can be even more fruitful.
Why so much cutting of the branches that are actually doing what they ought to be doing? It is because the Father envisions so much more in the fruitful branch. With its limited outlook, the branch understands only the counterintuitive facts that it is bearing fruit and yet is still suffering the cutting.
I remember hearing of a visitor to a sheep farm. She saw the sheep being herded toward a large tank, where they were shoved down under the liquid, submerged completely, not once but twice, clearly against their will. The visitor asked what was happening to the hapless sheep. She was told that they were being dipped into a chemical bath that would protect them from threats to their health, threats like parasites and lice.
The visitor asked the question we often find ourselves asking in such moments: “Do the sheep understand that?”
And that’s the problem, isn’t it?
We have no difficulty understanding suffering that we’ve brought on ourselves by our own sin and folly. And we understand that some of our suffering comes from the fact that we live in a broken world filled with broken people.
But it’s the counterintuitive suffering that is so hard to understand, when there’s such a disconnect between the way we’re living our lives and the outcomes we experience.
I just don’t get this, God. I know my life isn’t free from sin, but I’m fighting against sin in my life and in my heart. And my ministry is apparently fruitful. Where did this suffering come from? What can this sudden heartache possibly mean for me right now?
That’s the moment when we must remind ourselves that our suffering is never for nothing; we must remember that God’s purposes are always wise and good, wiser than if we managed things ourselves and better than if we had never experienced the suffering.
Suffering, even apparently random and meaningless suffering, is actually part of our sanctification, it is part of God continually bending the trajectory of our lives toward holiness.
And thankfully, He’s got bigger plans for us than our comfort and security.
Persevere,
Paul Pyle
Pastor of Discipleship