"I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing"
John 15:5
It seems like forever that we have been abiding in our homes. It’s the safe place to be in a pandemic, I am blessed to have a home to abide in and, as an introvert I am for the most part happy with my own company. But I am now beginning to experience cabin fever, itching to move out of the confines of my oh so familiar four walls, to involve myself in life, to connect with people in ways that don’t depend on an internet provider.
But the reality is that I might be staying in for quite a while longer, and maybe that is because God has so much more to teach me about his gift of solitude, and I am a slow learner. I still have the internet, the television, and my husband to distract me, and I am easily distracted from those times when it is just me and God; no-one to impress, no role to play to convince others and myself that I have significance, no masks to hide behind. Just abiding in Christ. As Henri Nouwen put it “In solitude I get rid of my scaffolding”.
One of the last things Jesus told his disciples before he went to the cross, was the importance of abiding in him. Abide is such a gentle, peaceful word - the Greek root meno means to rest, remain, stay . . . too gentle maybe for this crazy pressurised world, where just ‘being’ is not enough, where we have to be ‘doing’ in order to validate ourselves, to justify our existence on this planet.
The sad thing is that as a Christian I have too often bought into the illusion that it is my duty to be a ‘doer’ rather than a ‘be-er’. I have mangled James’s admonition to be “doers of the word, and not hearers only” (Js.1:22) into a doctrine where activity equates to sanctity and busyness is the badge of a good disciple.
Yet I have never found that in Scripture.
Of course where there are obvious needs, where I have particular responsibilities, where I can make a difference in someone’s life by what I do, “don’t just sit there, do something!” is appropriate. But Jesus did say “abide” in me, not “work to earn my approval”.
Maybe it is because I am lazy, or maybe it is because I am tired of those churches where I am always being told what to ‘do’. When Jesus says “I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing” I want to take him at his word. Jesus uses the word meno in John 15 to describe being rooted in Christ - it is a relational term and the relationship depends on my remaining as part of the Vine - 'in' Christ, as he is 'in' me. If I do, the fruit He will produce in me is a transformed character. Paul sums up this fruit of God's Spirit within us as love - expressing itself in joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness and self-control. If I want to love as Jesus loves then I need to abide in him, to feed on the relationship I have with him. And if I do, then my life will gradually be transformed from its sinful, selfish ways into a means for him to display his love. If I want to become more loving and less tetchy, more gracious and less judgmental, more patient and less bigoted, more peaceful and less anxious, then abiding - remaining in Him is the only way.
Right now I have the time to spend alone with Jesus, but he was not just giving advice for the down times, the quiet times - Jesus knew there wouldn’t be many of those for his followers in the early tumultuous years of his newborn church. This was advice for living through the highs and lows of daily life. Abiding in Christ is how to live not just now but in life post-pandemic. Apart from him I can do nothing.
That simple invitation to abide has sadly been masked over the years by a church culture that has prioritised activity over abiding. One of the first things we learn as evangelical Christians is how to serve Jesus rather than how to know Jesus. But the reality is that we don’t change by doing things for God, we change by abiding in him and allowing him to change us. The reality is that many of us who have served in the church for decades remain no different from the grumpy, judgmental, religious people we have always been, because we have not understood Jesus' call to abide in him. Busyness is not next to godliness.
I know from attending many pastors conferences that the first question we would ask of one another was generally not ‘How is it with your soul?’ but ‘What is your church doing, how is it growing, how multi-functional is your building, how do you fit it all in to your busy, in other words, successful, ministry?’ (I realise that much of my experience was prior to the admission of many more women into the pastorate, so there was always a lot of testosterone on display at the conferences I attended - but it’s not so long ago - we’re talking THIS millennium, and I don’t expect it’s changed much!!).
In many ways lockdown has been a blessing - freeing us from the tyranny of too many meetings and allowing us time to experience God’s love rather than feel we constantly have to earn it.
John wrote “God is love. Whoever lives (abides) in love lives in God, and God in them.” (1 Jn. 4:16)
Oh to abide in His love, which is like no other. God doesn’t love as we love - we are fickle, we love in the anticipation that our love will be returned and we often remove our love when it is not. We love those we consider deserving of our love. God is not like that. He IS love, he can do nothing else but love us, however undeserving, ungrateful and unresponsive we may be. Love is who he is. His love is not earned, its given.
The person who more than any other taught me that was my beautiful Granddaughter Clementine; born profoundly brain damaged, for the ten years of her precious life she operated at the level of a newborn. Her smiles were dazzling, but she never consciously acknowledged or interacted with anyone. And yet this totally helpless, completely dependent gift of God gave so much.
I remember a particular moment, when she was 6 months old. I was holding her on my lap, and I was totally overwhelmed with love for her - not for the first time! But this time I so clearly heard God say to me “This is how I love you - you are as helpless and dependent as Clemmie, you can do nothing to help yourself, or earn my love, and yet I love you with all my heart just as you love this little one”.
Clemmie could not speak, but her life spoke so powerfully of the way in which we need to embrace brokenness in our own lives and in the lives of others. We are all, without exception, broken vessels, and God’s love and grace finds its perfect expression through brokenness.
Henri Nouwen speaks of the heart as “the place where God dwells and holds you . . a place . . where all of you and all of God can dwell.” Clemmie’s heart was - and is - in that place of abiding – all of her is held and dwells with God.
Isn’t that where we all long to be? In these uncertain and frightening times, don’t we all want to know that place of safety in God’s arms?
Clemmie was free from all the stuff that gets in the way of my relationship with God - the ego and self-assertion, the conflicting messages, the do’s and don’ts and the regrets - she was God’s with all of her heart. She knew the secret of abiding.
Jesus said “come to me all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest . . for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls” Matt.11:28,29.
I’m weary of the anxiety right now Lord, weary of the relentless sadness, weary of a daily diet of bad news, weary of the aching need to hold my children and grandchildren, weary of feeling weary. Help me to take this time of solitude to put my roots down ever deeper into you, to allow you to restore my soul, to know the joy of being loved by you.
Thank you that the authentic Christian life is not about striving but about abiding - in you.
The missionary James Hudson Taylor put it thus
“Not a striving to have faith . . . . but a resting in the Loved One entirely, for time and eternity.
. . . . I looked to Jesus, and when I saw––oh, how joy flowed!
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