John 15:5 - define the roles

John 15:5 “I am the vine, you the branches. The one remaining in Me and I in him, this one bears fruit much, because apart from me not you are able to do anything.” (Interlinear)

It may seem verse 5 is completely redundant and therefore unnecessary as it doesn’t appear to add anything new or relevant to this passage. What is being said here that hasn’t already been addressed? Why not simply skip ahead to verse 6?

We can be certain that if Jesus is making an “I AM” statement, then clearly something important is about to follow. The usage of the Greek egō eimi is infrequent and consequently purposeful; particularly when it is used in contrast to “you” (hymeis), by extension, us. The truth here is so foundational, that if we can see it and seize hold of it, it will impact us as greatly as it ignited His disciples. Yet it’s so simple and easy to skim over, that we miss it continually.

Jesus reiterates that He is the vine, but in verse 1 He directs His imagery up to the Father and then out in broad, general terms. Here He brings the message down and drives it home directly and personally to His disciples. In other words, He’s taking His lesson and making it relevant and applicable to His audience.

John is not concerned about redundancy here. He is taking pains to ensure a solid grasp of a very fundamental truth about being a disciple. In modern vernacular we could say he is attempting to clearly define roles. The roles of Christ and of His followers are not to be confused. The branches are not the Vine, nor is the Vine the branches.

Sounds pretty elementary and duh!? Hardly worth spending another verse on something so basic and straightforward? I wonder, have you ever found yourself trying to play God? Do you rest and take comfort in the truth that He is God and you’re, well, you? The sad reality is that we humans have a long history, going all the way back to the Garden of Eden, of being susceptible to the disease of identity crisis. We continually attempt to be or to do what simply isn’t intended for us, often wanting to be or to do anything that truly isn’t us.

In the Garden the temptation was to become like God (Gen 3:5), an identity crisis that still holds true today. A former executive of Oracle Corporation wrote a book about Larry Ellison, the co-founder and CEO of Oracle (and the 14th richest man in the world according to the latest issue of Forbes, which pegged him for $25B in net worth), In his book he poses the question, “What is the difference between God and Larry Ellison?” The answer: “God doesn’t think that He’s Larry.” Sadly, this identity crisis is not a secular, corporate problem in which Larry holds a monopoly. It’s also pervasive within our churches, as so often we Christians try hard to be someone or something that we’re not, ceaselessly striving to accomplish something that isn’t intended for us. As a result, the beauty, significance and purpose of who He created us to be and to do is completely lost on us.

This tendency of ours to continually attempt to be someone who we’re not was rather humorously highlighted for me when I took a 10-day trip to Indonesia, not long after the tragic tsunami of Dec. 26, 2004. While I was there I noticed a number of Indonesian women who appeared to have applied a healthy amount of white powder to their faces. I asked if that was a native custom or if it had some religious implications. I found out to my astonishment that it was simply a matter of vanity.

Apparently these Indonesian women, who have darker skin as a function of their ethnicity, use white powder as a course of their daily cosmetic or make-up process to appear lighter in color than they truly are. In their eyes, whiter is more beautiful. Now contrast that to so many women who, here in the United States, use as a part of their cosmetic regimen, lotions that make their skin appear darker. To these fair-skinned women, darker is more beautiful. In other words, these two contrasting groups of women, half-a-world away, are both attempting to be like the other, neither content with being who they really are, while regarding the other as having the true beauty!

The diagnosis: whether due to pride, vanity, insecurity or any other pathogen, we have a recurring case of identity crisis. Verse 5 is a reality check – a let’s define the roles moment. John did not want there to be any confusion over the issue of identity. The roles of Christ and of His followers are not to be misconstrued. Just as it is unmistakable to see the difference between the vine and the branches in the natural world, in the spiritual world the branches are not to be confused with the Vine, and the Vine must be acknowledged as being very distinct from the branches.

He is the “I AM,” the Vine. We are the branches. He is God. We are not. We are branches. Doesn’t that sound glorious? Seriously. Consider how radical, earth-shattering and liberating this truth was to the ragtag band of misfits, fishermen and rude Galileans. How wonderful and enlightening it is to truly know your place in this world, and to know your worth and value! We are branches. Don’t undervalue or underestimate the truth of that statement. Who or what else in all of God’s creation, including the heavenly beings, has the glory of being the branch – vitally and personally attached to the Vine – Jesus, the Son of God? We are branches. We need be nothing more. In fact, we should not want to be anything more, because that is who He created us to be.

Why is it that so many of us have such difficulty in accepting who we are and what our role is? Perhaps it because we’re focused on us – our goals, problems, desires, etc. Keep in mind that in this mashal we’re never commanded to bear fruit – it’s the vinedresser’s responsibility to ensure that we bear fruit. Our job is to abide, to focus on the vine. The reality is, if we truly focus on who God is, long enough to catch even the briefest glimpse of His vastness and incomprehensible greatness, everything else in life will fall into proper order and perspective.

That’s why we need this “define the roles” verse. It’s a reminder of what the Bible says to us from the very start: “In the beginning God…” (Gen 1:1).

We’ve all heard or read that verse so many times, that most of us probably glibly quote that verse by memory, without paying any attention to the meaning in those first four words. Consider those first four words carefully. Which statement is more reflective of your life: “In the beginning God” or “In the beginning _________” and your name is in the blank? Do you live your life every day, consciously and purposefully acknowledging in all things, “In the beginning God.”?

In the beginning God spoke, creation happened, and it was good. God, as the penultimate authority and Creator, has by His uncontestable Word (the logos) commanded all things into existence and ordered their design and purpose. By very definition then, all things are under His sole and exclusive control. He is the Vine. We are the branches. All life, power and meaning flow from and through Him to us. Without Him, we can do nothing.

Do you believe that? Do you accept that? Is your life reflective of your accepting that? If so, that foundational truth will completely set you free from all fear, worry and stress. That’s why Jesus said at the beginning of His ministry, “So do not worry” (Matt 6:31), and that’s how Paul could so confidently say, “Do not be anxious about anything…” (Phil 4:6)

“The fear of the Lord is such that when you fear Him, you’ll fear nothing else. If you don’t fear Him, you’ll fear everything else.” – Oswald Chambers

Look at the progression in this imagery regarding the fruit: no fruit, fruit, more fruit and much fruit. Then look at how that comes about: “The one remaining in Me and I in him, this one bears fruit much.” Our active part is in abiding or remaining in Him, not in rushing around and trying to bear fruit.

Incidentally, it has been suggested that Polycarp, the bishop of Smyrna in the early 2nd century and a disciple of John, received his name in recognition of his focus on abiding, and the consequent bearing of much fruit: karpos (fruit) and polys (much). Our English prefix, poly, as in polygon or polytheism, is derived from this latter Greek term.

This verse not only clarifies roles, but it also emphasizes the duality of this identity truth. We bear much fruit if we abide in Him, but if we don’t abide in Him, it’s not a matter of bearing less fruit or even a little fruit – it’s nothing. In fact, in the Greek, it’s actually less than nothing. Contrary to our modern math concept of two negatives multiplied together equals a positive (-5 x -5 = +25), a double negative in the Greek means you’re really in negative territory.

The Greek ou (“not”) and ouden (“nothing”) renders the text to read literally, “not you are able to do nothing.” Our feeble attempts on our own, our “inherent goodness” does not give us “half credit” or merit or consideration. There is nothing positive we can do on our own to offset the sins which we commit on our own. Our “good works” and our “religious deeds” count for less than nothing on our own merit. That was radical teaching by Jesus in the days of the Pharisees, and it is radical teaching today in our culture of good people doing good things. It simply doesn’t leave any wiggle room for the “natural goodness” of man or lend any power to do good works that perhaps might be worthy of eternal reward.

This last line, “apart from me you can do nothing” has played an important role in the history of the theological discussion of grace works. Augustine used it to refute Pelagius, who stressed man’s natural power to do good works worthy of eternal reward; the text was cited again in 418 by the Council of Carthage against the Pelagians; and again in 529 by the second Council of Orange against the Semi-Pelagians, who defended man’s natural power to do good works that were in some sense deserving of grace. The text appeared again in the mid-1500s at the Council of Trent, in the arguments Rome brought against the Reformers, defending the meritorious quality of good works done in union with Christ.

However, in addition to this verse, the Bible is very clear as to our ability to do anything meritorious on our own:

Psa 14:3 “They have all turned aside; together they have become corrupt; there is none who does good, not even one.” (ESV)

2 Cor 3:5 “Not that we are sufficient of ourselves to think of anything as being from ourselves, but our sufficiency is from God.” (NKJV)

Do you struggle with that? Do you have difficulty in accepting your role, that on your own you can accomplish “not…nothing?” Do you find yourself getting frustrated that your life doesn’t seem to be exhibiting the fruit you want to see, or that you don’t seem to be bearing fruit as quickly as you’d like? You’d be unusual if you don’t have that struggle.

How often we pray for the end results – the much fruit. How weary we become in our pursuit of good deeds. Yet that is putting the proverbial cart before the horse. Our bearing fruit should not be the focus. That means the focus is on us. We simply can’t go out and bear fruit by striving to bear fruit. We so often fail to realize that the fruit is the natural byproduct of abiding in Christ. If we want to bear much fruit, our focus shouldn’t be on the fruit – it should be on abiding. That means the focus is on Him, the Vine. Focus on Him, and much fruit will follow. Focus on the fruit, and much frustration will follow.

Gandhi was asked by a close friend, “If you admire Christ so much, why don’t you become a Christian?” Gandhi reportedly replied, “When I meet a Christian who is a follower of Christ, I may consider it.” Gandhi considered the Sermon on the Mount to be the most sublime teachings ever given on human conduct. He lived his life in the pursuit of the good fruit of what Christ taught. Yet, while we might say his “good intentions” were admirable, he had it completely backwards. It is fruitless to try to live a life consistent with the Sermon on the Mount – it won’t happen. However, if we focus on abiding in Christ, the characteristics described in the Sermon on the Mount will become a natural reflection of our life.

Dallas Willard, in his book Spirit of the Disciplines, aptly describes this tension using the analogy of sports. A professional athlete who expects to excel in a game without adequate exercise of his body and mind, even with the most incredible of inherent skills and talents, is no more ridiculous than the Christian who hopes to be able to act in the manner of Christ when put to the test without the appropriate exercise in godly living.

The amazing reflexes and responses that we see in a professional athlete aren’t produced and maintained by the short hours of the game itself. They are available to the athlete for those short and all-important hours because of the continual discipline of a daily regimen no one sees. For us to perform at the level of a professional athlete, we would likewise have to first have the inherent capability, along with the necessary discipline to do what it takes to be able to produce the same results as an all-star athlete. With Christ in our lives, we have inherent the power to bear much fruit, yet if we do not maintain the discipline of abiding, should it be any surprise if we fail to exhibit the “reflexes and responses” of a mature disciple of Christ?

What we find here is true of any human endeavor capable of giving significance in our lives. A successful performance at a moment of crisis or an abundance of good fruit isn’t an “on-the-spot” matter. Gandhi attempted to live that – to be able to do the right deed, to bear the right fruit, on the spot. However, following “in His steps” cannot be equated with behaving as He did when He was “on the spot.” To live as Christ lived, to bear the much fruit and become more like Him, to do what He would do, is to do as He did all His life – abiding. As much as we may want to think otherwise, there is no truth to “situational Christianity.”

Wearing a WWJD (“What Would Jesus Do”) bracelet was popular for some time, but if we are not abiding in Him, wearing WWJD doesn’t do much good. We will not bear His fruit – we will not respond “on-the-spot” as He would. If we are abiding in Him, we don’t need to ask WWJD. Rather, our abiding in Him and He in us will result in a life that is already living as He would want. Then if we find ourselves “on-the-spot,” we can rest in the promise Jesus gave to His disciples when they found themselves “on-the-spot”: “Do not worry about how or what your defense will be or about what you are to say. For the Holy Spirit will teach you at that moment what you should say.” (Luke 12:12)

The general human failing is to want what is right and important, but at the same time not to commit to the kind of life that will produce the action we desire or know to be right. This is the feature of human character that explains why “the road to hell is paved with good intentions.” We intend what is right, but we avoid the life that would make it a reality.

Are we trying to bear fruit, or are we an abiding branch? Note how we in essence decide whether or not we will do less than nothing, or everything. His way bears much fruit. Our way bears much frustration. No fruit, fruit, more fruit, much fruit – what will it be?