Bearing Fruit. (Easter 5B)

Good morning. I’m Carter Hawley, archdeacon for the Diocese of Oregon. As archdeacon, I support the rest of the deacons in the Diocese, including Deacon Stephen. And by way of a quick explanation of what a deacon is or does, I’ll share a quote that started me down the path of being chased by God, as a deacon. It was actually originally said about the journalism trade, but it is fitting for a deacon – My priest said that if deacons had a tagline or a motto, it would be this: Deacons comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable. 

Said another way, deacons bring the church out into the world for service and love to our brothers and sisters in need – comfort the afflicted. And we bring the needs of the people and the world into the church, assuring that the church knows of the needs, concerns and hopes of the world – afflicting the comfortable. Now, to be clear we are all called to comfort and serve others in our baptismal covenant – seek and serve Christ in all people. Deacons are called to support and lead the church in that service, to mobilize and motivate others in that service, or in Greek –  in that diakonia. This is the source of the term deacon. Get it?

This is who I am to my core, both the comforting, and the afflicting, motivating and mobilizing. And add to this my paying job history as an administrator and manager, and voila, I’m both well trained and passionately committed comforting the afflicted and afflicting the comfortable, and with helping other deacons do that too. 

Today’s readings are all spectacular. And while I know I’m biased, I think they all exemplify and highlight the ministry of a deacon.

Our first reading comes from Acts, stories of the earliest church. We hear about Philip sharing the Word with the Ethiopian eunuch. We aren’t told a lot about the Ethiopian, but we can infer some things from his description. First, we know he was from Ethiopia. He was of a different ethnic and racial background than the people of Israel. This made him an outsider. The eunuch was likely wealthy, wealthy enough to be in a chariot. Finally, he was a eunuch, a castrated male. According to purity law, this made him unclean. He was an outsider, both because of the religious laws, and because of the differences in his sexual identity as a eunuch. Finally, this wealthy outsider was also humble. He’s reading from the prophet Isaiah, and acknowledges to Phillip that he does not understand what he’s reading and could use some help. Unlike the Ethiopian eunuch, Phillip was not likely wealthy. Far from it. So this wealthy outsider asks for help from Phillip, the scruffy religious zealot.

This reading is often pointed to as an example of inclusive sharing. On Phillip’s part, race, ethnicity, sexual norms, - none of that mattered. At the spirit’s prompting, he chased after this person, who so perfectly was an “outsider” to engage in hard conversations. Can. You imagine talking to someone in your world about scripture, let alone someone so very different? 

Phillip was not alone as an example of inclusive boundary busting. On the part of the eunuch, wealth and status, that did not matter. Despite the differences, race, ethnicity, sexual norms, wealth, status, insider, outsider – these two engaged in a deep and meaningful conversation about scripture. 

And ironically, it’s this outsider who is the first to hear the Gospel of Jesus Christ and understand that if it’s true at all, it must be true for him. What’s to stop you from baptizing me, he asked. Sometimes this passage is referred to as the conversion of the Ethiopian eunuch. It may have very well been an even greater conversion for Phillip, who at the prompting of the spirit, encountered the ultimate outsider, and this outsider knew that if this good news was true, it was good news for him. They both afflicted each other’s comfort levels, with what was normal and expected. The Good News transcends all of that status quo. No one is excluded. 

Moving on to the Epistle from the First Letter of John. The community which received this letter had grown complacent in their care for the other. It was a community under attack, so they had grown  pretty insular, and kept to themselves. They were hunkered down in a mode of self-preservation. But this letter from John dispels the idea that you could love within your community or love God, but disregard others. “Those who say ‘I love God’ and hate their brothers or sisters are liars”. And “Those who love God must love their brothers and sisters also”. To be clear, this is not a relative, or conditional commandment. Love is love is love. Love of all. We love, because God loves us. That was certainly uncomfortable to hear then. It is a little uncomfortable to hear now. Afflict the comfortable. But when we get it right? When we are able to love all?  That’s some fine comforting, there.

So that takes us to Jesus’ story about the vine-grower. To put this in context, he’s sharing this after the events we celebrate on Maundy Thursday – the last supper, the foot washing. This is an intimate farewell to his followers, and Jesus is trying to explain to the disciples who he is, and who they are to each other. He explains that he is the vine, and God is the vine-grower. And the disciples – we – are the branches. I think this is both an individual you, and a collective you - you personally, and you the church. His example offers several distinctions of different kinds of branches, each of which deserves a little closer look. 

There are the branches that are not connected to the vine. A branch that is not connected to the vine withers. This reminds me of forcing flowers in the spring. You can cut budded stalks of flowering trees, put them in water and they will blossom. And eventually, they will wither and need to be thrown away, cut off from their life source. But they will bloom. 

Then there are the branches that are connected to the vine but do not bear fruit. These branches are cut off by the vine keeper. 

And finally, there are the branches that are connected and bear good fruit. These branches are pruned so they produce more. 

To be clear, I do not think this is fundamentally a story about judgment and being thrown into the fire if we aren’t doing enough, or if we haven’t professed Jesus Christ as our personal Lord and Savior. In some Christian circles, this passage is used to support a hellfire and damnation God. That is not what I think Jesus is talking about. It’s so inconsistent with his other loving teachings. Rather, I think this is a story about God’s unending and irrational loving care of us, and what happens to us, based on our choices about connectedness and bearing fruit, individually and collectively. 

As a church, as a gathered people of God, I believe there are groups that have gotten away from Jesus Christ’s redemptive love and grace, from loving God and your neighbor. These are the branches that are cut off from the vine. They focus on judgment and hate. Or maybe they’re just apathetic or blind to the needs of the world. They can do some good things – like the forced spring branches. But without being connected to the vine, without being nourished and restored by Jesus Christ, they will wither. 

There are Christian communities that are connected to the vine, to Jesus, but don’t produce fruit. I imagine this as a group that focuses solely on themselves, with no ministry beyond the walls. All worship, no love beyond here and now. Deeply faithful groups that fail to love and serve their neighbors can be connected to the vine, to Jesus Christ, but back to the Epistle, “Those who love God must love their brothers and sisters also”. 

That leaves us with the final kind of branch, and this is sometimes the hardest to hear and understand - the branches that are connected and do bear fruit. In the story, those branches are pruned by God, the vine keeper. What??  Pruned for good efforts, for producing fruit?  Some hear this as punitive, or not-good-enough. But that’s not at all what pruning is about. Anyone who’s ever had a garden knows that pruning is critical, getting rid of some of the great blooms or fruit, to encourage more, bigger, better. You don’t prune punitively. It’s never done with the intent to harm or punish. Quite the contrary. It’s intended to help the plant do what it’s supposed to do – flower, fruit, thrive. 

We as church communities must always be willing to look at what we are doing and who we’ve become and be willing to lovingly, and with great concern for what’s ultimately best for the whole vine, prune those things that have grown old and no longer work, or those branches that are holding back our future potential. This isn’t easy, but like pruning, when it’s done with loving care, it is beneficial and reaps much. 

In my home parish in the Seattle area, we owned a building in a neighboring downtown city that was used as a thrift store, and the proceeds were used for small grants to neighbors in need. This ministry was started when there were a lot of stay-at-home moms, and not so many large thrift stores. By the time I was a young mom, the ministry was struggling to get donations, shoppers, and volunteers to sort the stuff and staff the store. After much prayer, the building was sold. Sure, everyone grieved the end of that wonderful ministry. But the proceeds of the sale were used to reincarnate a new outreach ministry that better met the needs of now. Pruning. 

In this story, the various parts are called out. God’s the vine keeper. Jesus, the vine. We’re branches. So what exactly is the fruit that we’re supposed to be producing, connected to Jesus and pruned by God? Maybe there isn’t just one answer, but if there were just one, I think the Epistle reading spells it out – Love. We are commanded to love God and love our neighbor. To be clear, this is not a sentimental feeling. This is a hard thing to do, it’s an active verb. To love is to feel with, to care for, to support, to work on behalf of. As it relates to our neighbors, it is diakonia.

So if the fruit is love, what does this Gospel say to us individually? What does connected, not connected, and bearing fruit look like for you and me?  

The branches that are not connected? They can flower, but eventually wither. I think this is like well-intentioned social service providers. They can produce fruit. They can love and serve their neighbor. But eventually they get burned out without being connected to the life-giving vine.

Branches that are connected but not producing and are cut off?  Regardless of our connection to Jesus Christ, are we loving our God, and loving our neighbor? Not just concerned for, but actually doing something? Are we seeking and serving Christ in all people?  This is one way deacons are called to serve in the church. We help people who are already connected to the vine bear that fruit of diakonia.

Finally, branches that are producing and pruned? This is where we each need to take an honest inventory of our fruits, of our efforts, and prayerfully, lovingly, allow God to pick up God’s pruning shears. God prunes things out of our lives that we may really, really want and like. But if that’s the case, God’s pruning to get us to thrive, blossom, fruit. What is the fruit I’m producing?  After prayer, and reflection, what needs to be lovingly pruned so I thrive in Christ. 

All of us are called and commanded in our baptism, in the covenant we make with God and to each other, to seek and serve Christ in others. As a deacon, I fundamentally believe this is one of the greatest fruits we can bear. If you want to know more about deacons or how you can bear more fruit in the loving service of others, feel free to contact Dcn. Stephen or me. And in the meantime, now is the time for us to reaffirm our strong connectedness with the vine, with Jesus Christ, through the Eucharist. So let’s go get connected, and then head out and bear fruit!

Amen.