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5th Sunday of Easter (B)  - The vine and the branches - being “pruned” by the vine grower.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus uses the image of the “vine and the branches” to describe his relationship with his disciples.  Jesus often made comparisons with things very familiar to the people - things from everyday life - and how they worked - as a way for people to come to understand the Kingdom of God and the way God works in our life.  We heard this teaching method of Jesus last week when Jesus referred to himself as the “Good Shepherd” who relates to his sheep in a very different way than a “hired man” who works just for pay.  Vineyards, like shepherds, were a common feature of the culture of the day.  People knew how they operated.  In the Psalms and the prophets, Israel was often referred to metaphorically as a vine.  Psalm 80 is a prayer to restore “God’s Vineyard”.  We hear in the Psalm: “You brought a vine out of Egypt… Turn again, Lord of hosts; look down from heaven and see; Attend to this vine, the shoot your right hand has planted” (cf. Ps. 80: 9, 15-16).  When Jesus says, “I am the true vine, and my Father is the vine grower,” he is intimating that God will restore Israel through him - that he is the fulfillment of God’s plan of salvation for his people.  This also would not have been lost on his hearers familiar with the scriptures.  He talks about the vine grower pruning the vine and removing branches that do not bear fruit.  The reason for the pruning is so the vine and the branches will bear more fruit.  Jesus is explaining why the vineyard of Israel fell into ruin - because Israel did not remain faithful to the covenant.  Without remaining faithful, they produced “wild grapes”.  He is calling his disciples to remain in him, the true vine.  Unless we remain in him, we cannot bear fruit.  If we do not stay connected to the vine, our life will become fruitless.  The “fruit” of the spiritual life is a growth in holiness and the ability “to love one another just as he commanded us.  Those who keep his commandments remain in him, and he in them…” as we hear in the first reading from the first Letter of Saint John.  We cannot bear fruit on our own.  “Without me, you can do nothing.”  Fruitfulness is not our work but the result of remaining in Christ and letting his life - the divine life - flow into our life.  Jesus also tells his disciples that being pruned is a necessary aspect of fruitful discipleship.  We should expect to be “pruned” by God in the process of growing in discipleship.  This would have made total sense to those familiar with the work of a vine-dresser and the operation of a vineyard.  If a vine was not pruned, it would grow wild and produce poor fruit, if any, because it was expending energy and resources in all kinds of directions.  When the branch is pruned, the resources for growth are focussed and concentrated in a way that will generate abundant fruit.  The work of vine-dresser is not haphazard, but he knows the vine and can tell which branches or shoots need to be cut back to produce more fruit.  There is a strategy and a precision to his work.  It also has to be done at the proper time.  If someone is looking at the pruned vine with an untrained eye during the season for pruning, the vine will look almost dead - devastated compared to the time of the harvest.  For the branch, the pruning involves a “cutting away”  - a loss of something connected to itself.  We can imagine that the pruning “hurts” the branch.  The branch is wounded by this loss, but the loss is for a greater flourishing of the branch.  It is done for healing and a purification of the branch so that the branch grows in the right direction and in a productive way.  When we are being pruned as disciples, because it hurts and is experienced as a loss, it can feel like God is absent or distant or doesn’t care.  But that is not the case at all.  This past Advent, I went to a talk given by one of the spiritual directors at the seminary, and he reflected on the image of the vine and the branches.  He said, “The vine grower is never as close to the branch as when he is pruning it.”  Reflecting on the actual work of the vine-dresser, he said, “If I’m being pruned, he is near, holding me tight.”  “When we are being pruned, he’s holding us tightly and, in a powerful way, doing his work of sanctifying us.   He’s moving us closer to a love of Christ.”

          When I look back on my journey to the priesthood, I can see it now as the Lord pruning me time and again - cutting off things that he knew would not generate good fruit in my life.  These were painful moments for me in which I experienced the loss of what I thought would bring flourishing to my life.  The summer before I went to college, I took a job as a waiter at a resort in the Poconos.  A friend of mine worked the job the summer before and told me about all the fun he had living away from home, making good money, and partying with all the young ladies.  Very appealing to a high-school senior.  My first day on the job, even before unpacking my suitcase, my friend offered to give me a tour of the resort.  We jumped on a four-wheeler.  My friend was driving.  I was on the back.  Five minutes into the tour, we took the four-wheeler onto a trail, he lost control of the vehicle and hit a tree head-on.  I heard a snap.  The impact with the tree broke my wrist as I hung on to the rack on the back of the vehicle.  Like that, my dreams of a summer of fun were dashed.  After I recovered from the injury, I spent the rest of the summer selling knives.  (There is something ironic about that).  When I was a senior in college, I wanted to go to law school, but my admissions test scores were not good enough to go where I wanted to go.  That plan for the time being was being cut off.  I worked for a law firm as a paralegal for a year, and that was enough for me to know that a career as a corporate lawyer was not the path for my fulfillment.  (It was a good thing I didn’t get into law school).  My first job working full-time at a public relations firm did not end well.  It was not a good fit, and my boss, who was a good man, let me go.  I was crushed.  It was a real existential crisis being fired from my first job.  But it forced me to re-examine what I really wanted to do with my life and to ask myself what was most important for me.  While I was still trying to figure things out, I had the opportunity to volunteer at the Washington DC campaign headquarters of one of the presidential candidates in 1996.  This was like a dream opportunity for me.  I was rubbing elbows with the important people, doing everything I could to impress the right people, and to help my candidate win.  Needless to say, my candidate lost.  No job in the White House for me.  It was at this time that I began going to daily Mass to pray for my grandfather who was in the hospital after a severe heart attack.  He died, and I was very shaken by the loss.  This loss too made me re-examine what I was doing with my life.  It was at this time of really asking the Lord to bring fulfillment to my heart that he put the priesthood before me.  God is so much greater than our hearts, and he knows everything.  I can see it now, but I couldn’t see it as I was going through those moments of loss and pain.  Throughout that whole time as a high-school student, college student, and young adult professional, I never stopped going to Mass.  I remained in the Church.  I listened to the word of God and received the Eucharist every Sunday, and went to confession regularly.  I really believe that remaining with Christ in and through the experience of being pruned is the path to bearing much fruit.  That was my experience.  He promises to remain with us always.  He does so through the sacraments and the community of the Church.  It is up to us in our freedom whether we remain in him or not.  I can look back now and say, yes, indeed, through it all, all the pruning, the Lord was holding me tightly.  He was cutting things away in order to move me closer to Christ, to free me to pursue and to recognize the higher goods of life - the things that really matter in order to conform my heart to his.  I don’t think I could see those things that really mattered or the things that really satisfy before the lesser goods, in a sense, were cut away. 

          The life of faith - the life of discipleship - is a life of constant pruning.  But the pruning is a sign of the vine grower’s care for us.  It is how the Lord sanctifies us and makes our lives more fruitful.  His word “cuts to the heart” and calls us to conversion - to let go of the things that are not of God.  And the circumstances we live do this as well.  But we have to let ourselves be pruned by remaining with the Lord.  The wound of the loss opens us up to something greater.  When we receive the Lord in the Eucharist today, let’s ask for what we want - what our heart desires - it is Him.  Let’s ask for him and remain with him, and what we really want will be done for us.  We will bear much fruit and give glory to God as his disciples.