I AM THE TRUE vine, and my Father is the gardener. 2He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful. 3You are already clean because of the word I have spoken to you. 4Remain in me, and I will remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me.
5“I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. 6If anyone does not remain in me, he is like a branch that is thrown away and withers; such branches are picked up, thrown into the fire and burned. 7If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be given you. 8This is to my Father’s glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples.
9“As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love. 10If you obey my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have obeyed my Father’s commands and remain in his love. 11I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete. 12My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. 13Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends. 14You are my friends if you do what I command. 15I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master’s business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you. 16You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit—fruit that will last. Then the Father will give you whatever you ask in my name. 17This is my command: Love each other.
18“If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated me first. 19If you belonged to the world, it would love you as its own. As it is, you do not belong to the world, but I have chosen you out of the world. That is why the world hates you. 20Remember the words I spoke to you: ‘No servant is greater than his master.’ If they persecuted me, they will persecute you also. If they obeyed my teaching, they will obey yours also. 21They will treat you this way because of my name, for they do not know the One who sent me. 22If I had not come and spoken to them, they would not be guilty of sin. Now, however, they have no excuse for their sin. 23He who hates me hates my Father as well. 24If I had not done among them what no one else did, they would not be guilty of sin. But now they have seen these miracles, and yet they have hated both me and my Father. 25But this is to fulfill what is written in their Law: ‘They hated me without reason.’
26“When the Counselor comes, whom I will send to you from the Father, the Spirit of truth who goes out from the Father, he will testify about me. 27And you also must testify, for you have been with me from the beginning.
16:1“All this I have told you so that you will not go astray. 2They will put you out of the synagogue; in fact, a time is coming when anyone who kills you will think he is offering a service to God. 3They will do such things because they have not known the Father or me. 4I have told you this, so that when the time comes you will remember that I warned you.
Original Meaning
IN CHAPTER 14 the answer to Jesus’ departure was resolved in the assurance of his coming, that he would not leave his disciples desolate (14:18). In chapter 15 Jesus’ theme is no longer “coming” but “remaining.” He paints an intricate picture of a vine trimmed by its gardener that produces generous fruit. He applies this image to his disciples, charging them to remain vitally attached to him so that they may produce the fruit borne of love and obedience. The twin themes of this image are mysticism and fruit-bearing.
Jesus is looking at the lives of the believers who will live in the world following his departure (the church). His interest here is not dissimilar to that in John 14. The interior life of intimacy with God described in 14:23 is now posed in a new form: “Remain in me, and I will remain in you” (15:4a). In order to sustain a genuine spiritual life in the world, believers must remain intimately attached to Christ.
If it is true that the disciples will be in the world personally connected to God in the Spirit, Jesus also warns them about the conflicts they will have with the world. Chapter 15 shifts abruptly to a second subject in verse 18, a theme that continues to 16:4. Here the controlling motif is in 15:20: “No servant is greater than his master.” If Jesus experienced hostility and trial in the world, the same will be true of his followers. Nevertheless, in this trial Jesus has given them an Advocate—the Spirit-Paraclete (15:26)—who will strengthen their witness and keep them from falling away. This is Jesus’ third promise of the Spirit (14:16, 26; 15:26).
Another way to organize the chapter is to see it as outlining the relationships of the believer: With Christ there is a relationship of remaining (15:1–11); with fellow believers there is a relationship of love (15:12–17); with the world there is a relationship of hostility (15:18–25, 16:1–4a); and with the Spirit there is a relationship of cowitness (15:26–27).1 This has a slightly different topical arrangement but follows the main outline given below.
The Vine and the Branches (15:1–17)
THE FORM OF the vineyard metaphor is comparable to the story Jesus tells in chapter 10. There Jesus took the image of a shepherd and transformed it into a parabolic saying to describe his own life and work. Here Jesus takes the image of a vineyard and transforms it into an extended metaphor (15:1–8), followed by an interpretation and application (15:9–11).2
What prompts Jesus to use this image? His figures (shepherd, bread, water, light) all came from ancient Jewish traditions. If Jesus left the Upper Room in 14:30, he may have stopped at the temple to teach and to pray (not entering the Kidron Valley until 18:1).3 At the entrance of the Holy Place (west of the altar), steps led to a linen curtain covered with purple, scarlet, and blue flowers (Josephus, Ant. 15.394; Wars 5:207–14). Solid gold chains hung alongside the curtain from the door beam. Above the curtain (beneath the roof line) grew a gigantic grapevine of pure gold, representing Israel (Ant. 15.395). Wealthy citizens could bring gifts to add to the vine (gold tendrils, grapes, or leaves), and these would be added by metal workers to the ever-growing vine (m. Middoth 3:8). Josephus claims that some of the grape clusters were the “height of a man.”4
The vine and the vineyard were old and sacred images in Judaism (as in most Mediterranean societies). The vine represented the covenant people of God, planted and tended by him so that Israel would produce fruit (Ps. 80:8–18; Isa. 5:1–7; Jer. 2:21; 12:10–11; Ezek. 15:1–5; 17:1–6; 19:10–14; Hos. 10:1–2). Generally in the Old Testament when Israel is depicted as a vine or vineyard, the nation is being chastised for not bearing fruit as God expects. The following two passages are representative:
Restore us, O God Almighty;
make your face shine upon us,
that we may be saved.
You brought a vine out of Egypt;
you drove out the nations and planted it.
You cleared the ground for it,
and it took root and filled the land. (Ps. 80:7–9)
Now you dwellers of Jerusalem and men of Judah,
judge between me and my vineyard.
What more could I have done for my vineyard
than I have done for it?
When I looked for good grapes,
why did it yield only bad?
Now I will tell you
what I am going to do to my vineyard.
I will take away its hedge,
and it will be destroyed;
I will break down its wall,
and it will be trampled. (Isa. 5:3–5)
The vineyard image continued to be a favorite in Judaism and appears in much of its literature (and even on its coins) in the New Testament period (Sir. 24:17–21). Jesus likewise used it regularly as a teaching device (Matt. 20:1–7; 21:28; Mark 12:1–11; Luke 13:6–7). But here in John 15 he makes a departure. In his final “I am” saying in this Gospel, Jesus declares that he is the true vine (15:1). That is, in this ancient imagery he has taken the place of Israel as God’s true planting.5 The new concept is that God’s vineyard holds one vine and Israel must inquire if it is attached to him. No longer is Israel automatically seen as vines growing in God’s vineyard. Men and women are now branches growing from one stock.
As in the Old Testament picture, God is eager to see fruit coming from his work tending the vines (15:2). Jesus presses the idea, using the time-honored skills of viticulture. Vine dressers both trim branches so that they will produce more fruit and cut away dead branches that have no life in them. In each case the assumption is that fruit-bearing is the test of life-giving attachment to the vine.
The picture of attachment to Jesus as a branch is attached to a vine is an apt description of the interior spiritual life Jesus has described since chapter 14. Here, however, the key word is “remaining” or “abiding” (Gk. meno), which is used throughout the discourse (15:4, 5, 6, 7, 9, 10). The growing disciple in whom the Father and Son live (14:20, 23) through the Spirit (14:16, 25; 15:26) is one whose life is utterly dependent on Christ. Discipleship is not just a matter of acknowledging who Jesus is; it is having Jesus spiritually connected to our inner lives.
That connection also means being “pruned” (15:2b). The Greek word for trimming (kathairo) is closely related to the adjective in 15:3, “You are already clean [Gk. katharos] because of the word I have spoken to you.” Those who remain in the vine (such as Jesus’ disciples) are being readied for more fruit-bearing by the word Jesus is giving them.
But with this comes a warning (15:6). To fail to “remain” in Christ, to fail to find life in the vine (i.e., Jesus), risks separation from the vineyard and consequent destruction. There is only one evidence if a branch is truly alive: Does it produce clusters of grapes (15:5)? Note carefully, however, what the metaphor is not saying. Fruit-bearing is not a test; that is, a branch does not have to demonstrate a level of productivity to be safe from destruction. Rather, fruit-bearing is a byproduct. “Apart from me you can do nothing” (15:5b). To be connected to the vine means that the life of Jesus is flowing through us, and this leads to fruitfulness. Fruitfulness will be the inevitable outcome of an interior spiritual life with Jesus (cf. Gal. 5:22–23).
Jesus concludes the metaphor in 15:7–11 by drawing out some of the implications that come from “remaining” in him, many of which repeat what we already have learned in chapter 14. Verse 7 compares remaining in Jesus and remaining in his word. No doubt this recalls the commands to obedience (14:15; 15:10), in which keeping Jesus’ word is how we demonstrate love for him. Those whose lives are so in harmony with Jesus will find their prayers controlled by his word, and such prayers will be answered and bring added glory to God (15:7b; cf. 14:10–12). The branch produces what the life coursing through its limbs desires, that is, the “fruit of the vine.” But the outcome is not a mechanical productivity of fruit. The disciple steps into a relationship of love with both Jesus (15:9) and the Father (15:10), out of which a transformed life, a fruit-bearing life, will flow.
The “peace” promised in 14:27 is now matched to “joy” in 15:11. Note that this joy is not merely a human happiness. Jesus desires “that my joy may be in you” (italics added). It is likewise a gift of the Spirit, a gift of Jesus dwelling within, that makes this joy supernatural and substantial. Jesus’ joy has come through his reliance on God and his obedience to his Father’s will. We inherit not only his joy but the capacity given through the Spirit to enjoy God in the same manner. The theme of joy will return in the discourse (16:20–24; 17:3) and will remain a personal emphasis for John (1 John 1:4; 2 John 12; 3 John 4).
In 15:12 the subject shifts to the character of life among Jesus’ followers. In chapter 13 we viewed the same shift: Jesus models and describes his work on their behalf (13:1–11) and then charges them to imitate what he has done (13:12–20). Having described the life-giving vine and our need to share in his life and love in order to live, Jesus moves on to describe life among the branches. For some scholars, these six verses are the center of Jesus’ Farewell Discourse.6 Note that the unit is framed by two statements of the love command (15:12, 17).
This is the second time that Jesus has commanded his followers to love one another (cf. 13:34). This is the true test that will always put his followers in high relief (13:35). The same theme is sounded throughout the letters of John. “Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us” (1 John 4:11–12). Such love for one another is a fulfillment of God’s love for us and in us (4:17), and to refuse to love leads John to describe such people as “liars”—people who show that they have neither seen or experienced God’s love (4:20).
This human love cannot be viewed in isolation, as if simply exhibiting such love satisfies the call to discipleship. Such love is an outgrowth of a life that has witnessed the dramatic quality of God’s love (15:13) when his Son died on behalf of those he loves. Such love requires that we also love God with our entire heart, soul, and, strength (Deut. 6:5).
Jesus now calls his disciples “friends” (15:14–15) to distinguish them from servants, who do not know the deeper thoughts of their masters. What characterizes such friends is that they obey him.7 In the Old Testament both Abraham (2 Chron. 20:7; Isa. 41:8; cf. Jas. 2:23) and Moses (Ex. 33:11) are called friends of God.8 This title is unusual and speaks of the highest relationship possible between God and a human being. This friendship is not our doing; rather, Jesus chooses us as friends (15:16a), which gives us tremendous security that his affection for us will not disappear.
Where true friendship exists, true disclosure (or revelation) accompanies it (15:15b). Disciples possess the word of Jesus (thanks to the Spirit, 14:25–26), and they will receive ongoing revelations of Jesus (also brought by the Spirit, 16:12–13). Disciples thus know “God’s heart.” When they therefore pray, their desires and God’s will harmonize, making them participants in God’s efforts in the world (15:16; cf. 15:7).
Conflict with the World (15:18–25)
JOHN 15:18–16:4a FORMS a unified section that centers on the topic of persecution and hostility in the world. It is preceded by the charge to love (15:12–17) and followed by the detailed work of the Spirit (16:4b–15). Of all the sayings in the Farewell Discourse, it enjoys numerous parallels to teachings given by Jesus in the Synoptic Gospels (Matt. 10:17–25; 24:9–10; Mark 13:9–13; Luke 6:40; 21:12–17).9 Essentially Jesus says that discipleship will be a costly endeavor and whoever chooses to follow Jesus must be ready to experience the sort of conflict he has seen and will soon endure. But Jesus will send the Spirit, who will provide a vital function in these conflicts.
Jesus explains the hatred of the world (15:18–21) as a continuation of the hatred he personally witnessed throughout his public ministry. Jesus has been hated because as the light, he exposes the world’s deeds (3:20) and unmasks them as evil (7:7). Because the disciples are now separated from the world by virtue of their faith in Jesus, they qualify for similar treatment. No doubt the story of the man born blind in chapter 9 speaks on two levels in this regard: It tells one man’s story and warns future disciples reading the Gospel what may come. In his prayer recorded in John 17, Jesus says, “. . . and the world has hated them, for they are not of the world any more than I am of the world” (17:14). Christians have passed from “death to life” (1 John 3:13–14), they are not “of the world” (3:19) and so should not expect the world’s affections.
Jesus repeats the proverb about servants and masters (John 15:20; cf. 13:16)—not to compromise his disciples’ status as friends (“No longer do I call you servants,” 15:15), but to teach that they now share his status as persona non grata. This anticipation of conflict recalls the role of the prophets in the Old Testament. As bearers of God’s word, they expected harsh treatment when their announcements were unpopular (Ezek. 3:7). For example, when Micaiah spoke the truth to Ahab and Jehoshaphat concerning their siege on Ramoth-Gilead and the Syrians, he was struck, imprisoned, and starved (1 Kings 22:24–27). In this sense, Jesus bears God’s word and experiences hostility; now his disciples bear his word. In Matthew 10:40 he said, “He who receives you receives me, and he who receives me receives the one who sent me.”
Jesus discusses the guilt of the world in 15:22–25 by explaining that it is accountable before the revelation of God. Jesus’ ministry provided both words (15:22) and works (15:24) that pointed to God. Now that they have seen and heard him, their guilt is immovable (15:24). For instance, in the story of the healed blind man (ch. 9), the Jewish leadership refused to accept the miracle as a sign from God. Yet because they claimed to see, Jesus pronounced their guilt (9:41).
This same statement of accountability closed the Book of Signs. “Even after Jesus had done all these miraculous signs in their presence, they still would not believe in him” (12:37). Similarly, following Jesus’ debate with the leaders on Sabbath, he claims that the historic revelation given by Moses will be their judge (5:45–47). The cumulative effect of this is to undermine the justification of the world’s hostility against Jesus. When Jesus cites the Old Testament (“They hated me without a cause,” 15:25; cf. Ps. 35:19; 69:4), he ironically points to even more revelation that judges their unwarranted anger.
The Third Promise of the Spirit (5:26–16:4a)
THE THIRD PROMISE of the Spirit-Paraclete (see 14:16, 26) fits this judicial, conflictual setting well. As we learned earlier (see comments on 14:16), parkletos (generally translated “Counselor” or “Comforter”) should be taken as “Advocate,” since it is a judicial title describing someone aiding a legal argument. The Spirit-Paraclete will not only live in the disciples, enabling them to recall the words of Jesus (14:26); now he will become a witness, supporting their trial (either literally or figuratively).
The promises of the Spirit in the Synoptic Gospels fit this setting precisely. Jesus says that in the midst of persecution (Matt. 10:16–18) his followers should not worry about what to say since the Spirit will speak through them (Matt. 10:19–20; Mark 13:11). The Spirit will also instruct, “for the Holy Spirit will teach you at that time what you should say” (Luke 12:12). But there is a partnership, for “you also must testify” (John 15:27a, italics added). “You” is emphatic in Greek here, underscoring that we are not permitted a passive role. The disciples are witnesses and the Spirit will bear witness; the disciples possess the historical record of Jesus’ words and work (“you have been with me from the beginning,” 15:27b), and they now will be empowered as they deliver that message to the world.
No doubt this also helps explain the title “Spirit of truth” (15:26b; cf. 14:17; 16:13). The disciples will be forced to witness about Jesus as they are confronted. But the words they utter will be “the truth” because they are speaking about the work of God in Christ through the power of the Holy Spirit. Other utterances given in the world, in the darkness, are simply falsehoods.
But this truth is also a faithful rendering of what they know about Jesus’ ministry. “From the beginning” (15:27b) recurs with great frequency in John’s letters as does the word “truth.” The truth (this Spirit of truth) is not a compelling spiritual experience in the first instance; it is the capacity to point faithfully to what is known about Jesus’ historic ministry from its onset.
The final paragraph of the section (16:1–4a) summarizes why Jesus has taught them “all this” (16:1, referring to 15:18–27). He has warned them so that they will not “go astray” (Gk. skandalizo). This word refers to someone who stumbles, such as when a person trips because of darkness (12:35). When Jesus spoke of eating and drinking the Son of Man’s flesh and blood in chapter 6, those who failed to see beneath the metaphor were “scandalized” (6:61), and many fell away. The greatest thing, therefore, that the disciples have to fear is that they will renounce their faith or commit apostasy. Here Jesus refers to expulsion from the synagogue.
Throughout his ministry Jesus was candid about the social consequences that came with discipleship. Suffering and even martyrdom may be theirs. In Luke’s version of the Sermon on the Mount Jesus says, “Blessed are you when men hate you, when they exclude you and insult you and reject your name as evil, because of the Son of Man” (Luke 6:22). Matthew records Jesus’ harsh prophetic words to the Pharisees about God’s messengers: “Some of them you will kill and crucify; others you will flog in your synagogues and pursue from town to town” (Matt. 23:34). In John’s own Gospel the story of the blind man (John 9) serves as a paradigm of what is to come: For refusing to deny Jesus this man was “put out of the synagogue” (9:22; cf. 12:42). To embrace Jesus as Messiah early on became a matter of synagogue discipline, and none other than Saul of Tarsus served in this capacity (Acts 9:1–2).
But Jesus’ point is that to know in advance is to be equipped (16:4a). To step into suffering and recognize that it follows the pattern of Jesus’ life and fulfills his word may strengthen men and women for whom faith comes at a severe cost. John 16:4a does not refer to “when the time comes” (NIV) but “when their hour comes.” Throughout John “the hour” refers to Jesus’ death and glorification, but now it is the “disciples’ hour” that will test their devotion to their faith.10
Bridging Contexts
IN THIS CHAPTER (as in John 14) Jesus is speaking directly to the needs and experiences of disciples who will believe in him following his departure. It is important to recall his audience: He is surrounded by his closest followers. This provides the chapter with an immediacy and applicability for the church today. These words are guidelines for discipleship, instructions for how the disciple (and the church) ought to live out life in a world that is at odds with God’s Word but nevertheless in need of it.
Two major themes stand out, each of which carries additional secondary lines of thought that at first glance may go unnoticed. But there is also a third theme in the passage that is less central to the thrust of the text, but no less significant for the evangelical church today.
Christian experience. This chapter places in sharp relief our definition of the Christian experience. Is discipleship a commitment to doctrinal beliefs concerning God and Jesus? Is it a way of life, a way of “love” perhaps, that sets disciples apart from the world? Or is it an experience, a mystical spiritual encounter that transforms? I believe it is all three: Discipleship is a way of thinking (doctrine), a way of living (ethics), and a supernatural experience that cannot be compared with anything in the world.
John 15 emphasizes that neither doctrine nor ethics can alone define Christian discipleship. It reminds us that remaining in Christ, having an interior experience of Jesus (as a branch is nourished and strengthened by a vine), is a nonnegotiable feature of following Jesus. Many words could be used to describe this: mysticism, interiority, spiritual encounter. But without some dimension of an interior experience of the reality of Jesus, without a transforming spirituality that creates a supernatural life, doctrine and ethics lose their value.
This theme of spiritual experience will be at home to some but foreign and threatening to others. What will this experience look like? How is it measured or quantified? Is this just another way to talk about the charismatic renewal or Pentecostalism? What are the dangers inherent in a discipleship that talks about “remaining in” Jesus?
Flowing from this motif are three secondary issues that the passage touches on but does not explore. (1) Many commentators see here a secondary (or even primary) reference to the Lord’s Supper. This evening Jesus initiated a sacred meal that used the “fruit of the vine.” Does John understand that eucharistic participation11 is an avenue to this interior life? (2) One outcome of this life is prayer that brims with confidence (15:16). But how do we understand this as we pray today? (3) What do we make of the branches that are “broken off”? If a branch (i.e., a disciple) bears no fruit, what is its fate? Can dormant branches be removed and burned? John 15:6 has inspired considerable debate on the subject of eternal security and assurance.
Conflict and the world. The second major theme of this section focuses on conflict and the world. Throughout the Gospel we have seen how in John’s thought the “world” consists of that place—those hearts—where faith is refused and God is opposed. In the first century, tensions often flared up between the early Christians and the local synagogues from which they came. The stories of Stephen (Acts 7:58–60) and James (12:2–3) illustrate well the hostilities. Even Paul refers to the number of times he was persecuted, often by his own people, as he preached the gospel (2 Cor. 11:24; 1 Thess. 2:14). Tensions continued until the church finally won the empire in the fourth century and returned the favor, setting a pattern of shameful anti-Jewish persecution that has remained even to the twentieth century. Nevertheless, John no doubt knew these struggles well and includes for us and his disciples warnings about conflict and persecution.
This theme, then, centers on the nature of the world and its hatred of those who follow and love God. But this leads to a number of questions: Does this develop an unhealthy worldview of suspicion and foster a sectarian view of the church? How can evangelism go forward if a disciple harbors feelings of fear and suspicion of the world? What does Jesus mean when he says that his followers (while in the world) are nevertheless not “of” the world? Does this mean that life among non-Christians is a necessary evil and we should carefully limit the penetration of its values whenever and wherever possible? This, of course, raises the old tension between “Christ and culture.”
Once we establish an understanding of the nature of the world, two secondary themes follow. (1) If I am being persecuted, what does this tell me about the nature of my own faith? Is this a true sign of my fidelity to Christ? Is persecution something to be sought, almost as a badge proving that I have been on the “front lines” with the world? (2) What are the resources of the Holy Spirit in the midst of this persecution? What can we expect? Is the Spirit-Paraclete simply a source of encouragement, or is this genuine assistance? In a word, how will the Spirit “bear witness” within my witness as I speak courageously before the world?
The vineyard metaphor. The third theme in this chapter, often left unnoticed, would have been explosive in Jesus’ day. When Jesus employs the vineyard metaphor, he is touching one of the most-used images in Judaism to express God’s relationship with his people. We saw that instead of describing God’s people as planted vines rooted in the soil of Israel, Jesus describes them as branches attached to himself, the one true vine. Something important has happened here. God’s people are defined not as people now planted in the vineyard of Israel, but as people attached to Jesus.
What does this mean for Israel’s historic attachment to the land, the geography of the Middle East between Be’er Sheva and Dan? In his major speech in Acts 7, Stephen similarly challenges Israel’s self-definition anchored to a national political identity. He not only challenges the sanctity of the land (as the goal of religious life) but the temple (as the sole place of access to God). This costs him his life. Is Jesus making the same prophetic challenge in John 15? Now the vineyard consists of one vine, and the question for God’s people is no longer, “Do I live in the vineyard?” but instead, “Am I attached to Jesus, the vine?”
Contemporary Significance
THE TWO PRIMARY themes of spiritual attachment and persecution as well as this third theme of the vineyard provide a number of opportunities for explanation and application today. Sadly these have also been topics that have inspired misunderstanding, division, and abuse. Therefore, anyone wishing to bring John 15 to a modern audience must think carefully about what the text of the chapter is saying and what it is not saying about our identity as Christians.
Spiritual attachment. In my first seminary internship, I had the privilege of working in a traditional Lutheran church under the guidance of a wise, experienced pastor. For the first time I found myself teaching both college students and adults. One adult class covered the basics of the Christian life, and one Sunday morning an older, longtime member asked a very basic question: How does somebody become a Christian anyway? It is interesting to pause for a moment and answer this question thoughtfully.
Of course, our traditions provide us with a theological starting point, be they Arminian or Calvinist in orientation. For many of us our answers are a quick part of our repertoire, an answer we have used so many times we barely think about the theological assumptions it contains. But at this particular moment in the 1970s, in my first term of seminary, I could think of nothing other than Campus Crusade’s Four Spiritual Laws, which I dutifully outlined on a blackboard. My only excuse could have been that I had not taken systematic theology yet. “Accept Jesus Christ?” the man asked. “I was baptized when I was a baby and I was confirmed at twelve. Is that enough?” I’ll never forget the look on the associate pastor’s face as he watched me field the question before thirty-five of his most valued members.
What struck me about this moment was how few in that circle had contemplated the notion that there is an experiential dimension to Christianity. Assurance came from sacramental participation, just as evangelical assurance often comes through intellectual assent (belief) or a personal, public decision. John 15 does not necessarily address either of these belief systems, but it does invite a host of fundamental questions. Discipleship here is viewed in terms of attachment and fruit-bearing. The believer is like a living branch attached to a living vine. It is the vine that gives life to the branch. Nourishment from the vine enables the branch to bear good fruit. How one becomes attached is not the issue. But that one must be attached, that one will bear fruit as a result of this attachment, means everything. One should be able to look at a branch, see its fruit, and say, “This branch is living, it is attached, it is vital and growing from the vine.”
This means that Christianity is not simply about believing the right things (though this is important). Nor is it simply a matter of living a Christ-like life (though this is important too). Christian experience must necessarily have a mystical, spiritual, non-quantifiable dimension. To be a disciple means having the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit living in us (14:23–26). It means having a supernatural, interior experience that is completely unlike anything available in the world. It is a way of believing (doctrine) and a way of living (ethics), but these are nurtured by the life-giving connection with Jesus Christ. Today’s world is not hardened in a rigid demand for rationalistic religious proof as it was in another generation. It is bona fide spiritual experience that authenticates religious truth in our world, and this is precisely what Jesus is describing.12
What are the outcomes of this sort of life? The fruit Jesus expects from the branches is first and foremost love. The love command has been repeated throughout this Upper Room discourse, and Jesus repeats it here (15:12).13 This spiritual awakening, this transforming encounter does not always lead to fantastic signs and powers (though these may come, cf. 14:12). It leads principally to a life that has features of Jesus’ life running through its veins. As Jesus enjoyed the Father’s love and reflected it to his followers, so now his love should fill their lives. Fruit then becomes a sign of spiritual life and vitality; fruit is not an evidence by which we demonstrate that we belong in the vineyard.
The confident prayer described in 15:17 is a byproduct of the intimacy with Jesus offered in 15:15–16. To be a branch, to be a disciple, does not mean that we can make some claim on the vine and demand it to produce what we wish. Prayer “in my name” is not a formula that guarantees we will get what we want. Centuries of Christian experience bear this out. But prayer that is itself inspired by the spiritual presence of Jesus, that is in harmony with his will, that is in accord with what he is doing in nurturing the vineyard—this prayer will succeed.
Can branches be broken off? This is the clear teaching of 15:2, 6. But does this mean that branches once nourished by the vine (i.e., disciples once saved) can then lose their salvation and be removed from Christ? Jesus’ analogy here has not been missed in recent theological debates about assurance and faith. Zane Hodges of Dallas Seminary, for instance, attempts to shore up eternal security by arguing that it is possible to be genuinely saved but bear no fruit.14 Others have disputed this view strongly.15
What are our options on this issue? (1) Arminians have often argued that the removed branches are Christians who have lost faith and hence lost salvation. But this seems hard to square with passages like John 10:28: “I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one can snatch them out of my hand.” (2) Some have suggested that breaking off branches depicts Christian discipline (death perhaps?), aimed at bringing restoration in the end. But the description in 15:6 seems to evoke images of eternal judgment (“such branches are picked up, thrown into the fire and burned”). (3) A third view argues that these branches are people who have some superficial external identity with Jesus but no internal, spiritual unity with him. Throughout John’s Gospel we have met people who are interested in Jesus but show inadequate belief (12:41–43). They live on the margin of the community of faith and enjoy its activities, but they have not embraced its truth for themselves.
The chief problem here is that Jesus’ vine image is being pressed to answer questions it was not intended to answer. The viticulture of the Middle East teaches us that every good farmer knows how to read the health of his vines. Living branches are trimmed; dead branches are removed insofar as they do not have the life of the vine coursing through them. The principle is simple: Jesus (and the vine) are the source of life; to fail to have him is to fail to have life. To refuse to “remain in Jesus” (15:6a) is to refuse the gift of life he offers. Elsewhere Jesus refers to his gift as living water or the bread of life. The image is the same. He provides this analogy to talk about his essential, life-giving work, not to discuss the history of individual branches.
Spiritual attachment and the Eucharist. While the metaphor of the vine finds its first meaning in the symbolism of attachment to Jesus, many writers (Catholics, Orthodox, and Protestants) wonder if John’s audience would not have found another meaning in the story. Early Christian readers who knew the institution of the Lord’s Supper (see 1 Cor. 11:23–26) would recall how the contents of the cup are described as “the fruit of the vine” in Mark 14:25 and Matthew 26:29.16 Further, the saying of the vine is given on the very night in which Jesus provides the Lord’s Supper. In this paragraph he even refers to his sacrificial death (John 15:13). Surely (many suggest) there must be eucharistic overtones here.
We must also compare to this the most explicit eucharistic language found in John (6:51–58). Here, eating and drinking Jesus parallels remaining in him as outlined in chapter 15. But the climax of John 6—and this is the important part—is that its graphic imagery is symbolic of the Spirit (6:63). As the flesh and blood of the Son of Man give life (6:53), so the Spirit alone gives life (6:63). The consumption of Jesus represents the acquisition of Jesus-in-Spirit, the very theme of the Farewell Discourse. Eucharistic participation, then, is not mere ritual, but is intended to reinforce and genuinely provide a life-giving attachment to Jesus.
Christians who do not come from a liturgical background will at once object to this reading of John 15. Many of us are eager to see spiritual realities in the chapter but less so to see them as linked to ritual observances or sacraments. I would urge that learning to see spiritual reality within liturgical ritual is a gift. Those who possess it hold something precious.17
One story will suffice. I remember talking with a young woman in her late twenties who had been a Christian for perhaps five years. Her ongoing sin troubled her, and she wanted to experience the reality of Jesus’ forgiveness and attachment to him. Evangelical sermons about forgiveness and eloquent words about assurance felt like disembodied truths, ideas without substance—gnostic perhaps. Her church had spiritualized or abstracted the reality of Jesus so that her attachment to him could only be seen in her imagination (a world cluttered with as much darkness as light).
Then by accident she attended an Anglican eucharistic service. As she knelt before the apse of a stone church, a priest in flowing robes (divinely attired, she thought) prohibited her from touching the Eucharist with her hand (“I was too unclean,” she said), and a chalice was brought to her lips. She was fed, she was nurtured, she was forgiven. The priest laid his hand on her head, saying words of forgiveness and assurance.
The physical, incarnational reality of the Lord’s Supper is now one avenue through which this woman experiences attachment to Jesus. Our incarnational Christology insists that God’s work in Christ took seriously the natural, material world in which we live. God used the form of this world, the full humanity of our lives, in order to accomplish his work. To this woman God is still using “the things we need,” the concrete things of this world, to attach himself to us.
Conflict with the world. A religious community generates a worldview that in some fashion defines it over against its surrounding environment. In most cases these views are unconscious as believers either separate themselves from the world or integrate fully with its environment. (1) Some communities are “world-embracing.” Such churches view the world as more or less benign and believers feel free to join its life. Many mainline denominations fit here.
(2) Other communities are “world-suspecting.” These churches are cautious about the world, believe firmly in its fallenness, and see the church as a refuge. Many evangelical and fundamentalist groups identify themselves here. They may continue to participate in secular politics and social life (such as public education) but do so with care lest they are forced to compromise the essentials of faith.
(3) Finally, some churches are “world-rejecting.” These communities have experienced such hostility and rejection in the world that they see nothing to be gained in it. They may be sectarian and disengage entirely from public life. In our century some fundamentalist and Pentecostal groups fit this category, as do Jehovah’s Witnesses. Such groups have formed a worldview based on experiences of conflict. Feeling marginalized and powerless, they separate themselves for the sake of self-preservation.
John’s Gospel has preserved some of Jesus’ most stringent teachings about the world and its ill will. It is uncertain whether this is to be explained by the context of John’s own church or his perspective of the wider church in the first century. The first century was a difficult time for believers. The church struggled for survival among antagonistic synagogues and suspicious Roman authorities. Christian martyrdom became commonplace before the century was finished.
Here in 15:18–16:4a we have dramatic words outlining the “hatred of the world.” It would not be far wrong to see that the worldview John offers is “world-rejecting.” Such teaching needs to be balanced against other teachings in the New Testament that express God’s love for the world and the readiness of the world to be evangelized. “The harvest is plentiful but the workers are few” (Matt. 9:37). But this teaching also needs to be placed in reserve for times when the world’s hostility is acute and when suffering, including martyrdom, may come to us.
Today such threats are rarely ours in the West. But it is still the experience of many Christians around the world. I think, for example, of the church in China (over one hundred million strong), whose pastors are arrested and imprisoned as leaders of a fanatical cult simply because they lead unregistered house churches.18 One pastor, Peter Xu Yongze, was last year sentenced to serve three years in hard labor (“re-education through labor”) for leading a banned religious cult, comparable, argued the government, with the American David Koresh.19 Some estimate that thousands of Christian leaders have been arrested and jailed in China in the 1990s. If this is not our experience at present in the West, we need to support those who suffer and ready ourselves for a day when we may. When this happens, 15:18–16:4 will be vital to us.
Those who do suffer offer eloquent testimony to what Jesus teaches in these verses. The Spirit promises to join with our testimony and to provide the courage and strength to sustain our witness before increasingly hostile audiences. Remarkably, despite persecution, unflinching courage and spiritual revival are hallmarks of Christian life in China. In order to survive, the church must wrestle with temptations to cooperate with the Communist government in order to have a reprieve from persecution. Those in “registered churches” (ten to fifteen million believers) must ask when their participation in this “world,” this sinful godless system of life, has compromised their spirituality altogether. A “world-rejecting” worldview may be an appropriate strategy after all.
The world always has the potential to “turn” on the church and see it as an impediment to some social, political, or ideological program—just as Jerusalem “turned” on Jesus and found in him a dangerous inconvenience. “If they persecuted me, they will persecute you also” (15:20).
The vineyard and the land. Jesus’ use of the vineyard analogy contains theological implications that would not be missed by any thoughtful Jewish theologian in the first century. The subject of “the Land” (i.e., the territory of Israel) was prominent in Jewish thought. Israel was considered the center of the world, Jerusalem was the center point of the Land, and the temple was the center of Jerusalem. According to the book of Jubilees, Mount Zion is the “center of the earth’s navel” (Jub. 18:19)! Jews living outside of Israel (called the Diaspora) desired to be buried in Israel; it was like being buried on an altar of atonement.20 Thus to neglect Judaism’s “land consciousness” is to neglect a significant theme presupposed in the first century.
Why is this significant? We have already seen that the vineyard was one of Israel’s most prized historic symbols of its nationhood and inheritance. In the Synoptic Gospels, for example, Jesus uses this symbol to express judgment in the parable of the vineyard and the tenants (Matt. 21:33–44; Mark 12:1–11): “ ‘Therefore, when the owner of the vineyard comes, what will he do to those tenants?’ ‘He will bring those wretches to a wretched end,’ they replied, ‘and he will rent the vineyard to other tenants, who will give him his share of the crop at harvest time’ ” (Matt. 21:40–41). Imagine the explosive implications of this answer! The vineyard will be given to new people, who will be faithful tenants!
John 15 is the Fourth Gospel’s most profound theological relocation of Israel’s “holy space.”21 Jesus is here revising Israel’s theological assumption about territory and religion. He is changing the place of rootedness for the people of God. Unlike the Synoptic parable that employs the traditional Old Testament categories of vineyard and vine, Jesus here says God’s vineyard has one vine, he is that vine, and attachment to God comes through attachment to him. It is no longer a matter of possessing the vineyard; it is now a matter of knowing the one true vine. Branches found in the vineyard that are not connected to him are gathered and burned. “The only means of attachment to The Land is through this one vine, Jesus Christ.”22 Jesus is thus pointing away from the vineyard as place, as territory of hills and valleys, cisterns and streams. In a word, Jesus spiritualizes the Land. He replaces the image of the vine and the promise of the Land held so sacred in Judaism.23
The practical implications of this are profound. Christians, particularly Western evangelicals, have been quick today to endorse the territorial agenda of modern Israel for theological reasons. Often it is a zeal for eschatological fulfillment that has prompted some evangelicals to make commitments to Israeli nationalism. However, deep within the New Testament is an announcement of a reversal, a radical reversal. The Christology of the New Testament makes obsolete those avenues of religious pursuit today pulled from the Old Testament. Just as Jesus is a replacement for the religious functions of the temple, so too Jesus replaces the religious inheritance of the Land. Jesus is the locus of God’s habitation. He is the sole link to the vineyard, and to promote a vineyard without him, to promote a territorial salvation, is to miss entirely the thrust of his message about the Land.
Today Palestinian pastors plead with Western evangelicals to recognize them as brothers and sisters and to see that because of Israel’s territorial religion, their people are suffering by losing land, becoming refugees, and being imprisoned. Pastors like Naim Ateek of Jerusalem,24 Mitri Raheeb of Bethlehem,25 Elias Chacour of Galilee,26 and Audi Rantisi of Ramallah27 have powerful stories to tell about what happens when misplaced religious commitments are unleashed in modern Israel.28