The Vine and the Branches

Photograph of a vineyard in Les Cévennes, by Silje Lilly. Taken in July 2017.

John 15:1-8

Gleaning grapes before October storms,

the vines are ancient fingers, deathly-dry and knotted digits.

bark-scarred with the wisdom of growing.

They are crowned with a branchy vibrancy,

of greenery, naivety and fertility.

The miracle of the vine and the branches is the fruit.

The credulous branches, are trusted to bear the weight of the yield,

their green luminescence is continually fed by

the vine that looks like deadwood. 

A Lamb looking as though it had been slain.

I wrote this poem in the Autumn of 2016 while I was in a vineyard on the outskirts of Montpellier, where Silje and I live, in the south of France. We were picking grapes after the harvest and enjoying time reading and writing in the autumn sun. Silje took the photo in July 2017 while in another vineyard in Les Cévennes, a short drive north.

Time and again, since moving to Mediterranean France in 2015, I have read biblical imagery of nature while being surrounded by the same vegetation of fig trees, vineyards and olive groves, and I have been struck anew by the depth and dimensions of all of these images. 

For me, this was the first time reading Jesus' words in John 15, while being surrounded by vines, and I understood the image like never before. With the plants I grew up with in the UK, there isn't much difference between the trunk and the branches, with the bark of an oak or an ash tree for example. But the vine is ancient looking, knotted and wrinkled, whereas it's branches are so thin, delicate and vibrantly coloured. 

Looking at this vineyard and thinking about the image Jesus has chosen to talk about him using us to spread the gospel and make disciples, the contrast hit me. 'How can those naive-looking and fragile branches be trusted to bear the weight of those full bunches of grapes?' Struck by this and the permanent impression of the vine vs. the transience of the branches, I wrote this poem. It is a celebration of God's gracious inclusion of us in his magnificent and benevolent story.

John 15:1-8

“I am the Real Vine and my Father is the Farmer. He cuts off every branch of me that doesn’t bear grapes. And every branch that is grape-bearing he prunes back so it will bear even more. You are already pruned back by the message I have spoken.

“Live in me. Make your home in me just as I do in you. In the same way that a branch can’t bear grapes by itself but only by being joined to the vine, you can’t bear fruit unless you are joined with me.

“I am the Vine, you are the branches. When you’re joined with me and I with you, the relation intimate and organic, the harvest is sure to be abundant. Separated, you can’t produce a thing. Anyone who separates from me is deadwood, gathered up and thrown on the bonfire. But if you make yourselves at home with me and my words are at home in you, you can be sure that whatever you ask will be listened to and acted upon. This is how my Father shows who he is—when you produce grapes, when you mature as my disciples." (The Message)