John 15:2 Every branch in me that bears not fruit he takes away: and every branch that bears fruit, he purges it… The word translated "purgeth" is kathairo, which includes all the means that are necessary to develop the fruitfulness of the plant, and the removal of all hindrances. It means to purify the ground and prepare it for sowing, by removing weeds and rubbish — to winnow the corn, to separate the chaff from the wheat. Its root idea is purity, freedom from all that is foul, false, useless, or noxious. It is interesting to notice the close resemblance that exists between the word kathairo, to purge, and kathaireo, to destroy. The addition of one letter makes the one word to mean a very different thing from the other. And so there is a resemblance between the purging of the fruitful branches and the taking away of the unfruitful ones. In the garden during spring, the process of digging the ground, cutting the roots and branches, seems purely a process of destruction; but in the added beauty of summer and the richer fruitfulness of autumn, it is seen to be a remedial and constructive process. And so the means which God employs to promote the fertility of His own people seem so like those which He employs to punish the wicked, that the righteous are not seldom perplexed. In considering the means of fruitfulness, let us look at — I. THE NATURE OF THE SOIL in which believers are planted. 1. Some of the finest grapes are produced on volcanic soil. From the rich red mould into which lava is disintegrated when long exposed to the weather, the vine draws the juices that form the largest and most generous clusters. The passion of the soil, as it were, passes into the produce. Palestine, the native country of the vine, exhibits, for its size, more than any other country, evidences of extraordinary geological convulsions. These features were paralleled by the historical revolutions which were intended to make Israel the true vine of the Lord. And so it is in the experience of every nation that is intended to produce much fruit. Africa, with its uniform geology and its monotonous history, has done little for mankind compared with Europe, whose geology and history are exceedingly varied and complicated. It is as true of individuals as of nations, that because they have no changes, they do not fear God or prosper. But God plants His vines amid fiery trials, where they are exposed to constant temptations, lava floods of the wrath and malice of the Adversary and of wicked men. Since the ground beneath them is insecure, and liable to constant convulsive shocks, they are thereby induced to set their affections more firmly on things above, and to walk as pilgrims and strangers on earth. 2. The influence of external circumstances upon objects so plastic as plants is confessedly very powerful, leading often to great modifications of form, structure, and substance. Hence the endless variety of grapes and wines of different countries. A similar modification in the character of the growth and fruit of the Christian is caused by the circumstances in which God's providence places him. One thing, amid all the changes of his circumstances, the Christian can command if he will — and that is the sunlight of God's countenance. He does not, however, always avail himself of it. And hence, as the spice trees in our hot houses are destitute of aromatic taste, because we cannot supply them with the brilliant direct sunshine of their native skies, so the Christian, amid all the privileges of the Church, is often destitute of the rich aromatic fragrance of spiritual joy, because he seeks to make up, by the heat of forced spiritual emotion originating in himself, for the full, bright, joyous sunshine that beams from God's face. 3. Under this head may be noticed the discipline of life's daily work as one of the means of developing Christian fruitfulness. Like the vine, the Christian requires to be trained along the trellis of formal duties and orderly habits. 4. I may also notice the fact, that God's tenderest vines are often placed in the most trying circumstances. It seems a strange appointment of nature, that the growing points of all trees should be their weakest and most delicate parts. So it is with God's own people. Many of the most delicate and sensitive of them have to bear the full brunt of life's storms. Tender women have often to withstand the severest shocks of circumstances. The sorest trials often meet the Christian at the beginning of his course. He puts forth the tenderest growths of his nature often into the biting air of doubt, and fear, and despondency. But it is good thus to bear the yoke in our youth. The elasticity and hopefulness of the young Christian can overcome trials which would crush the more aged and less buoyant. And the very patience and tenderness of those sensitive ones, who have to bear greater hardships and evils, disarm these evils of their bitterness, and turn them to profitable uses. II. PRUNING IS ONE OF THE MOST COMMON METHODS BY WHICH INCREASED FRUITFULNESS IS PRODUCED. No plant requires more pruning than the vine. So bountiful is its sap, so vigorous its vital force, that we are amazed at the abundance of superfluous growth which it annually produces. In order to adapt it to our conditions of cultivation we must systematically cripple and restrict it in every part. 1. The head, or leading shoots, are carefully broken off; and the long, luxuriant, lateral shoots are cut back to a few joints. 2. But besides the pruning of the suckers on the branch the branch itself is sometimes pruned. In almost every branch, owing to deficiency of light and heat, or overcrowding, many of the buds that are put forth every year become dormant. Some of these torpid buds retain a sufficient amount of vitality to carry them forward through the annually deposited layers of wood and bark; so that they still continue to maintain their position visibly, year after year, on the outside of the bark. In most instances, however, they are too feeble to keep pace with the onward growth of the branch; and, in that case, they fall behind, necessarily sink below the surface, and become buried beneath succeeding annual deposits of wood and bark. The branch, instead of developing them, employs the sap which ought to have gone for that purpose, into growing fresh shoots. But the gardener comes, and with his sharp pruning knife lops off these useless suckers; and the consequence is, that in a little while the sap goes back to the dormant buds and stimulates their slumbering vitality. And so God prunes every branch in the True Vine for two reasons; first, in order to remove rank and useless qualities; and, secondly, to develop latent graces. In no Christian is there an harmonious spiritual growth, a perfect expansion from a perfect germ in childhood. On the contrary, growth in grace in us is always unsymmetrical. Solid and valuable qualities are united with weak, worthless ones; graces that charm by their beauty lie side by side with defects that repel by their deformity. Some graces, also, are dormant in the soul, repressed by unfavourable circumstances of continued prosperity, or starved by the over-development of other graces. Some besetting sins, such as irritability, covetousness, worldliness, pride, impatience, are allowed to grow up and exhaust in their noxious growth the life of the soul. Now, to repress the evil and stimulate the good qualities of His people, God subjects them to the pruning of His providence. But, the pruning of God's providence would be very unsatisfactory did it only lop off noxious qualities, mortify easily besetting sins. Such injurious growths may be repressed by affliction, but unless the discipline develops the opposite good qualities, they will spring up anew, and make matters worse than before. Spiritual graces must be developed in their room. In order to get rid of worldly mindedness, spirituality of mind must be cultivated; covetousness will only yield to a larger experience of the Love that for our sakes became poor: anger will only be extirpated by meekness, and pride by humility. 3. But we must be guarded against the idea that affliction of itself can develop the fruitfulness of the Christian life. We find that in the fruit tree the pruning is only of use when there are latent or open buds to develop. And so, unless we have Christian life and Christian capabilities, affliction, so far from doing us good, will only harden and injure us. But, while affliction cannot impart spiritual life, there are instances in which God uses it to quicken the soul dead in trespasses and sins. And here, too, we find an analogy in nature. The buds of plants almost always grow in the axil — the vacant angle between the leaf and the stem, where the hard, resisting bark which everywhere else invests the surface of the plant, is more easily penetrated, and allows the growing tissues to expand more easily. The axil is, so to speak, the joint in the armour of the stem. Now, "a wound is virtually an axil, for the continuity of the surface is there broken, and consequently, the resistance of the external investiture diminished." Now, we all invest ourselves with a strong, resisting envelope of pride, worldliness and carelessness. Our property, our friends, our reputation, our comfort, all form a kind of outer crust of selfishness, which prevents our spiritual growth. But God removes our property or our friends, blights our reputation, destroys our carnal ease, and by the wound thus made in our selfish life an axil is formed, from whence springs up the bud of a new and holier growth. 4. There is one process of unusual severity which the gardener has recourse to in cases of obstinate sterility. The barren branch is girdled or ringed — that is, a narrow strip of its bark is removed all round the branch. The juices elaborated by the leaves are arrested in their downward course, and accumulated in the part above the ring, which is thus enabled to produce fruit abundantly; while the shoots that appear below the ring, being fed only by the crude ascending sap, do not bear flowers, but push forth into leafy branches. The prophet Joel says, "He hath laid my vine waste, and barked my fig tree." Many Christians are ringed to prevent the earthward tendencies of their souls, and enable them to accumulate and concentrate all the heavenly influences which they receive in bringing forth more fruit. Their present life is separated from their past by some terrible crisis of suffering, which has altered everything to their view, which has been in itself a transformation, and has accomplished in a day, in an hour, in a moment, what else is effected only by the gradual process of years. The lot that is thus halved may be more useful than in its full and joyful completeness. Ceasing to draw its nourishment from broken cisterns of earthly love, the lonely branch, separated from its happy past, depends more upon the unfailing clue and sunshine of heavenly love. 5. Sometimes even the roots of the vine require to be dug about and cut short. There is a correspondence between the horizontal extension of the branches in the air and the lateral spreading of the roots in the earth. For this reason the roots require pruning no less than the branches. If they are allowed to develop too luxuriantly, the branches will keep pace with them, only they will be barren. We are prone to root ourselves too firmly in the rich soil of our circumstances, to spread our roots far and wide in search of what shall minister to our love of ease and pleasure. But God digs about us. Our circumstances crumble away about our roots; the things and the persons in which we trusted prove as unstable as a sand heap on a slope. But, from roots bare and exposed, or cut off and circumscribed by uncongenial soil, we should seek to develop a higher beauty and richness of character. 6. The leaves also need sometimes to be taken away, as superabundant foliage would shade the fruit and prevent the sunshine from getting access to it to ripen it. So the fruit of the Christian is sometimes prevented from ripening or filling out properly by the superabundance of the leaves of profession. There may be more profession than practice, more of the rustling foliage than of the silent fruit. The most common fault of believers is letting their profession of the Christian life run ahead of their experience. Not more necessary are the leaves of a natural tree to the production of the fruit, than the profession of a Christian is to the formation of the Christian character. But God, by some appropriate discipline, regulates what leaves of profession should be stripped off and what leaves should remain. 7. Many of the tendrils of the vine require to be nipped off, in order that no sap may be wasted, or diverted from the fruit. If left to itself, the vine would put forth a tendril at every alternate joint; for it would seek to climb to the top of the highest tree. In like manner, it is necessary that the excessive upward tendency of some Christians should he restricted, in order that the common duties, and the homely concerns of ordinary life — which in their own sphere are equally important — may not be neglected. 8. The fruit itself must be thinned. The gardener prunes the cluster of grapes when young and tender, in order that the berries which are allowed to remain may be larger and finer. In the Christian life there must be concentration of effort, conservation of force. Much moral energy is spent without effect on a multiplicity of objects, which, if husbanded and focussed on a few of the most important, would lead to far greater results. 9. It has been observed that the hues of the sunbeam which the growing plant does not reflect at one time are absorbed, like a stream running underground for a while, and reappear in some after part. So is it with God's discipline of His people. Much of it may seem to be void and lost — to make no adequate return; but in some part or other of the life the effect of it is seen. If it fails to manifest itself in the leaf, it comes out in the blossom or fruit. 10. It may happen, however, that the purging, whose various forms and relations I have thus considered, may be here, and the fruition in eternity. Christians are placed in an unfavourable climate. Tropical by nature, they have been carried, like a wind-wafted seed, into a temperate zone, and have striven in vain to grow and flower among the hardy plants around them. But it is a comforting thought, that what bears about it here the marks of incompleteness, and to our eyes the appearance of failure, belongs essentially to some vaster whole. III. ANOTHER METHOD OF PURGING THE BRANCH IS FREEING IT FROM ITS ENEMIES. The natural vine, owing to its rich productiveness, is peculiarly exposed to the attacks of numerous foes which prey upon it. 1. A species of vegetable parasite not unfrequently assails it, called the "dodder." This strange plant is a mere mass of elastic, pale red, knotted threads, which shoot out in all directions over the vine. It springs originally from the ground, and if it finds no living plant near on which to graft itself, it withers and dies; but if there be a vine or any other useful plant within its reach, it surrounds the stem in a very little time, and henceforth lives on the fostering plant by its suckers only, the original root in the ground becoming dried up. The dodder is exceedingly injurious to the plants it attacks, depriving them of their nourishment, and strangling them in its folds. Can we imagine a more striking natural emblem of the law of sin and death with which the believer has to contend, and from which he longs for deliverance? We can only hope to prevent the dodder growing and spreading by perpetually breaking and dividing its stalks before they have time to fruit; and we can only hope to keep down the remains of corruption within us by incessant effort, watchfulness, and prayer; not allowing them to develop into fruit and seed. How blessed will be the deliverance when this terrible despoiler of our peace and usefulness is finally and completely removed from us, when we are saved forever from the power and presence of that sin from whose guilt the blood of Christ has freed us! 2. Every one has heard of the terrible grape mildew which, on its first appearance, utterly destroyed the vineyards in many parts of the world, and still annually reappears to levy its tax upon the vine grower. In consists of a fungus, whose growth spreads a white, downy mould over the surface of the grape, checking its development, and converting its pulp into a sour and watery mass of decay. But it does no harm unless the conditions of its germination exists — which are cold, wet seasons, with little sunshine — in which case it starts into life, and grows with inconceivable rapidity, spreading ruin on every side. To a species of moral mildew the fruit of the Christian is also exposed. In cold seasons, when clouds of unbelief rise up between the soul and the Sun of Righteousness, intercepting His light, this mildew is peculiarly destructive. It is a very solemn thought, that the spiritual atmosphere is full of the devices of the Prince of the power of the air — that the existence of another world of evil beyond our own world, makes all remissness on our part most dangerous. 3. In this country, the greatest pest of the vinery is the little red spider, whose movements over the leaves and fruit are exceedingly nimble, and which makes up by its vast numbers for its individual weakness. It punctures the fruit, sips its juice, and thus injures its appearance and quality. In the East, the land of the vine, the special foe of the vineyard is the fox. "Take us the foxes, the little foxes, that spoil the vines, for our vines have tender grapes" — or small grapes just out of blossom — says the beautiful Song of Solomon. These are fitting symbols of some weakness or infirmity of believers — some sin of temper or tongue — which, although it may not endanger their safety, will, nevertheless, greatly mar their peace. Peevishness, irritability, etc., may seem so small and trifling as to be hardly entitled to be called sins at all. They may be extenuated and explained away, but they are in reality red spiders — little foxes, that spoil the tender grapes of the soul. 4. There is a disease called "rust," which makes its appearance on the berries of the vine a few days after they are out. It is supposed to be caused by handling the berries while thinning them. Our vines have indeed tender grapes. The beauty of holiness is easily blurred: self-consciousness rusts it; affectation brushes off the fine edge — the delicate beauty of the various graces. 5. Another disease known to gardeners is "shanking," which makes its appearance just as the grapes are changing from the acid to the saccharine state, and arrests the transformation at once; the berry remaining perfectly acid, and at length shrivelling up. It begins in the decay of the little stem or shank of the berry, and is supposed to be caused by the roots of the vine descending into a cold, wet subsoil. How often, alas, is it true of the believer, that his fruit is shanked, remaining sour when it should become sweet and palatable! (H. Macmillan, D. D.) Parallel Verses KJV: Every branch in me that beareth not fruit he taketh away: and every branch that beareth fruit, he purgeth it, that it may bring forth more fruit. |
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