Grape Arbor Theology

While visiting relatives a couple years ago, I fell in love with their grape arbor. Sturdy vines, like little tree trunks, grew up each side of the wooden structure, massed at the top, and spilled down over the sides in leafy abandon. Under this shady cave, a swing hung from a rustic log frame - clearly an invitation to while away a fall afternoon with a good book and a cup of tea...

My ooohs and aaahs were heard; my son came home and built me an arbor of my own. I immediately planted grapevines and began the slow quest for that shady cave. If leaf growth stays ahead of Japanese Beetle intake, in a couple years I hope to have my own hidden getaway!

Maybe that’s one reason I’ve been thinking a lot this summer about Jesus’ words: “I am the vine; you are the branches” (John 15:5). About what it means to be a branch – a good branch that produces the fruit He’s looking for. And I’ve come to this conclusion: The only thing I’m supposed to do is stay in connection with the Vine. Jesus’ exact words were “Abide in Me.” Remain. Stay. (v. 4). That’s where my time and my energy and my passion need to focus.

I’ve logged a fair amount of time on my arbor swing this summer, and I’ve witnessed what it means to "abide.” Without exception the branches have been rather low-key. They haven’t raised a sweat about anything. No whining if their clusters of grapes compared poorly with other’s, no fussing for a better place in the sun, no moaning or groaning in an effort to produce the yellow seedless grapes prophesied by the white plastic tag at planting time.

All they’ve done – ALL they’ve done – is hang onto that vine. Whatever happened as a result, happened. It was not their business. Frankly, some were pulled away from neighboring branches (tendrils ripping despite my care) and tied alone along bare beams. Some were bent at new angles as I trained them in different directions. Some lost their first precious clusters of grapes as they withered and fell off during the dry spell. And yes, the leaves of many were riddled by destructive beetles.

But they’re all still clinging to that vine, every last branch. And I’m tempted to write a lot more but I’ll resist. Instead, I’ll invite you to find a hidden getaway, open the good Book to John 15, and think about the Vine, the branch, and the only thing we need to do.