SERMON FOR THE FIFTH SUNDAY OF EASTER, MAY 2, 2021    TEXT: JOHN 15:1-8
     “Whoever does not abide in me is thrown away like a branch and withers; such branches are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned.” Much of the discussion of today’s Gospel that I read focused on this particular verse. Lest it be heard as a warrant for condemning others, the interpreters of the text hastened to make the case for a different understanding. For example: “ . . . there is no real future in focusing on those fruitless branches. In the first place, we’re all just branches ourselves, not vines, and certainly not in charge of the vine. We don’t even make ourselves fruitful. We cannot possibly discern what is happening with the rest of the vine. For all we know, what looks like removal is actually pruning for abundant fruitfulness.” This is what I think of as the “keep your eyes on your own paper” caution for disciples. Don’t worry about what’s going on with your neighbors. Just focus on being productive yourself, and the fruit you are to bear is love for others, even those who appear for all intents and purposes to be withering on the vine.
     Moreover, the purpose of the verse is not intimidation. That’s the point made in this passage from another interpreter:
“. . . [S]ome of the language here is kind of fierce — cutting, pruning, being thrown into the fire, etc. To be honest, though, I think this is less intended as a threat about what happens if you don’t abide in Jesus but more a metaphorical description of what actually happens when you are not connected to the source of life. You end up cut off, withered, useless, like the branches and scraps we clean up from our yard and haul away or burn.” So Jesus isn’t warning his hearers: be fruitful or else. After all, “God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him” (John 3:17). Jesus is just stating the simple truth, lest we deceive ourselves. God doesn’t have to take action against us; we condemn ourselves by our own doing. As John states in the first chapter of his gospel, “He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him” (v. 11). We must be joined to Christ to draw from him the abundant life he promises. When that relationship withers, when we break away, the loss of vitality is more a natural consequence than a divine punishment. These interpreters of today’s text suggest we should find comfort in that as well as motivation to keep ourselves connected.
     I think in some ways they doth protest too much. We know that the members of John’s community were embroiled in conflict with the synagogue from which they were now separated. The bitter attitude toward “the Jews” that one encounters throughout the fourth gospel reflects that parting of the ways. John’s community also had an adversarial relationship with other followers of Jesus, those who differed from them in belief and practice. 
     Consider today’s second lesson from 1 John. Tradition holds that the book’s author is the same John who wrote the fourth gospel, but whether it is the work of his hand or not, it clearly comes from the circle of his followers. “God’s love was revealed among us in this way: God sent his only Son into the world so that we might live through him. In this is love, not that we loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the atoning sacrifice for our sins. Beloved, since God loved us so much, we also ought to love one another” (1 John 4:9-11). The language echoes Jesus’ new commandment to the disciples on the last night of his life, “Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another” (John 13:34), an appeal made not long before he tells them “I am the vine, you are the branches.” “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another,” Jesus concludes (13:35). 
     The pointed exhortation to abide in love is directed to a community that feels threatened. Love for one another is their great defense.The author of 1 John denounces those who would lead them astray in extreme terms: “ And this is the spirit of the antichrist, of which you have heard that it is coming; and now it is already in the world. Little children, you are from God, and have conquered them; for the one who is in you is greater than the one who is in the world. They are from the world; therefore what they say is from the world, and the world listens to them. We are from God. Whoever knows God listens to us, and whoever is not from God does not listen to us. From this we know the spirit of truth and the spirit of error” (1 John 4:3-6). An embattled community is to remain strong in their witness by loving one another and thus closing ranks against the enemy. “. . . [T]hose who do not love a brother or sister whom they have seen, cannot love God whom they have not seen.” But in the case of those who have embraced the “spirit of error,” one no longer sees a brother or sister.
     “Whoever does not abide in me is thrown away like a branch and withers; such branches are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned.” John’s original audience would certainly have heard threat and judgment in these words of Jesus and taken comfort from them. They promised condemnation for those who would undermine true faith and vindication for those who remained steadfast. This doesn’t sound very Christian to us. But there is a difference between judgmentalism and judgment. God’s love is discerning, not blind. 'God proves his love for us in that while we still were sinners Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8). If we are to love just as Jesus has loved us, we acknowledge what is before our eyes and speak the truth about what we witness. The weakest link in the chain of love that binds us is our dependence on making nice and avoiding conflict at any cost. Granted, we all see through a glass darkly, now we know only in part, but that does not mean everything is simply a matter of opinion. People can get the word of the Lord dangerously wrong and then proclaim it to harmful effect. Our response cannot simply be, “Whatever. As long as we love each other, we’re good.” Love does not collude with wrongdoing but rejoices in the truth (1 Corinthians 13:6). 
     In her book Called to Follow: Journeys in John’s Gospel, my friend Marty Stortz tells a story about a woman who found out that one of her colleagues was undermining her behind her back. She recognized the threat and responded. “I’ve forgiven him,” she said. “That doesn’t mean I have to trust him with my life. I’m trying to love him as an enemy.” Marty notes that Jesus did not recommend pretending that the enemy magically morphs into “friend.” He certainly didn’t kid himself about who he was dealing with as he followed the way of the cross. When the end came he laid down his life for all —those he loved as friends and those he loved as enemies.  Amen.