The Vine and Pruning

As the weather warms up, the sap begins to flow back into the branches of the vine. Life and movement are being channeled from the energy stored up in dormancy and are on the verge of explosive growth. On the verge of resurrection.

Like the vine, as we journey out of seasons of dormancy and loss into spring, we feel alive again and begin to see more clearly. The life-force of the Spirit begins to flow through us and awaken us out of a spiritual slumber. 

So much energy is stored up, ready to break through in spring. We have hard-earned lessons that we want to manifest above ground. All the hidden work in the darkness of the soil has refined us into a new creation brimming with vitality, vigor, and vision. We are ready to grow and bear fruit for the kingdom.

But according to Jesus, explosive growth begins with pruning. I know…isn’t it the worst?

Pruning

I happened to get to a vineyard one cold March day when migrant workers were pruning. They sheared aggressively without restraint, stripping the cut branches from the throngs of the wire trellis and tossing them carelessly on the ground. Hundreds upon hundreds of branches were piled up in each row.

Against the frigid cold, I clutched my phone, taking photos and documenting the losses that hit too close to home. I had solidarity with those cut vines as they remained lifeless in the snow. I’ve had my share of pruning moments over the years, and they all suddenly came back to the surface as I watched the clipping pile grow.

  • The pruning of an unfruitful relationship.

  • The pruning of an opportunity I had my heart set on.

  • The pruning from an organization I deeply loved.

  • The pruning of a sin pattern that I didn’t want to let go of.

And that gnawing, biting, exposing feeling when the vine is pruned is all too familiar.

When a vine is pruned in late April, it is open to the elements without a single leaf to hide its twisted form. It looks to the untrained eye barren and unprotected. Vulnerable. Raw. Naked. It looks and feels like death. This was what I felt for these exposed vines as I looked at the discarded branches on the ground; barren and stripped of all visible signs of life. 

And yet, as I watched vinedressers prune, I never got the impression that they ever mourned the loss of what might have produced from the branches that hit the ground. Why? Because vinedressers prune with an abundance mentality.

As Jesus said about the Father vinedresser, “every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful.” - John 15:2

Abundant Life-Source

Vinedressers know that when the vine is pruned, it will still multiply more branches than can keep up with. There is no use hanging onto the past when there is an unlimited channel of growth from within.

Yet, so often when it comes to pruning, I have a scarcity, fear-based mentality. I don’t want to let go of opportunities that served me well in the past, or partnerships I had once thrived in, or relationships that had once given me life, or resources that once fueled my family. I want it all. And so I hold on tightly to control, refusing to let go out of fear that I won’t have enough. 

But - pruning requires us to surrender and trust in God’s abundance; in God’s generosity. We must trust that when we are pruned, it makes way for growth that we cannot yet see. 

Tom Petzold of Ten Hands Vineyard

  • It’s the future opportunity you have not yet considered when you’re grieving this pruned opportunity.

  • It’s the spiritual maturity you deepen when you let go of an unhealthy relationship.

  • It’s the community waiting to celebrate and receive you when God leads you out of your current one.

  • It’s the quality and lasting impact that flourishes when you allow God to prune away the work you weren’t created for.

  • It’s the character of Christ that grows in you when you allow Him to prune a sin pattern.

  • It’s the abundance that emerges years after you have allowed God to prune your resources for the sake of another.

What fruit might be on the other side of the pruning that only God can see? 

What abundance, joy, or harvest will one day break through years from now from the very place you are currently grieving pruning?

Limited Form

In pruning, we must trust that the vinedresser knows not only which are the right branches to prune, but how few are necessary in order to bear quality fruit.

If vines aren’t trained and tended to through pruning, they grow rapidly wherever they want. If left alone, they will try to produce fruit from buds that remained from the previous year - sometimes up to 200-300 buds. So in the spring, vinedressers prune their vines back to just two branches or “canes” and around 6 total buds. 

Let that sink in for a moment. 300 down to 6. That is aggressive pruning. Why?

While the life force of the vine is abundant, the branches are limited. Pruning acknowledges the limits of the vine’s ability to ripen quality grapes. If a vine were left alone to produce the amount of branches it wants, it would not be able to both grow and ripen grapes into maturity. Good pruning means striking a balance between the abundant life-force of the vine and the limited channel for that energy.

As with us. We have the resurrection power of the eternal Spirit at work within us. We have a limitless, powerful God flowing through our veins that can channel abundant growth. But - the vinedresser knows we are human, that we are limited.

We cannot channel resurrection power into an unlimited number of opportunities or relationships and expect them all to be thriving and healthy. We cannot offer unlimited love, attention, and resources to all things. The more we take on, the more we will compromise on quality. 

So a vinedresser cuts the vine back and ties it down to a trellis to channel growth into the right place.

Cutting back.

Tying down.


Chosen Restraint.

This is a posture of chosen restraint, something we in the West have developed little theology around. We don’t know what limits are. And we definitely don’t know what chosen restraint looks like. Like the vine that will grow rapidly wherever it wishes, so will we. 

When I have been on the threshold of breakthrough in my life, I have lots of ideas on how I want to grow and bear fruit. Usually, it involves as many opportunities as possible with as many relationships as possible. I want to partner with God to make the greatest impact, right? 

But, often, just as I am starting to feel the sap fill my limbs with hope for opportunities ahead, I will experience some kind of rejection or door closed. Pruning.

During these times, all my insecurities surface in heaps of self-pity, self-justification, and anger that look as gnarly as those pruning clippings. 

Hildegard von Bingen, a 12th century German Benedictine abbess, compared the way vine branches were bound to a wire trellis to the way Christ was tied to the cross. 

Like Christ, in pruning, we allow ourselves to be cut back and tied down with a posture of surrender that says, “Even though I have my own plans and ideas on where and how much I want to grow, I will surrender to your way that embraces my limits and leads me to the Cross.”

It is often months or years after the anger has fizzled out over an area I have been pruned, that I see clearly how one closed opportunity allowed me to bear better quality fruit in another area. Only God has this kind of foresight. 

Surrendering to the One Who Holds the Long View

My vinedresser friend Dave tells me that in pruning, the vinedresser is “setting the intention for the vine,” meaning the pattern for growth. The vinedresser is giving careful thought to the next growing season - to where he wants the vine to grow and which branches. 

And so, in pruning, we must surrender control of a certain outcome to God’s intention for us. We must surrender our time, our energy, our commitments, our relationships, and our character to His pruning shears. 

And as we do, we put our hope in the only one who holds the long view. The only one who knows just what needs to be pruned back in order to channel his life-giving energy into a flourishing life that yields the best quality fruit for the kingdom.

The reality is, this kind of fruit doesn’t show up right away. The growth is slow and the quality of the fruit cannot be measured on a graph that goes up and to the right or quantified in the number of buckets spilling over with grapes. But, the results show up in “fruit that will last.” - John 15:16

When Jesus meets us on the verge of bud break, we have a choice. We can either allow ourselves to grow in whatever way we wish - wildly throwing out branches at will, channeling our energy into more opportunities, relationships, and commitments than we can reasonably manage.

OR…

We can surrender ourselves to the costly and painful process of pruning, trusting that He knows best how to focus our energy and nutrients into a quality vine that bears fruit that will last. 

Reflection Questions:

  1. Is there an area in your life God is asking you to surrender to His pruning? What might it look like to surrender this to him?

  2. Is there anything you need to grieve that has already been pruned? Take some time to journal about that now.

  3. Think for a moment about one area in your life that has been pruned. Imagine what might grow out of this very place months or years from now? Ask God to show you what kind of quality fruit He wants to bear that you cannot yet see?

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Abiding in the Vine

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Surrender: the Path of Descent