The Abiding Lesson Two

Well, as we begin this lesson two of The Abiding, I want us to look at John chapter 15 and its surroundings. Regarding this passage in John chapter 15, scholars disagree on the location where the discourse was given. Some scholars believe that this discourse took place while Jesus and his men were still in the upper room, and the vine spoken of is the vine of the cup where they were drinking, and this was the illustration used.

Other scholars say that perhaps a tendril of creeping vine came up the trellis by the open window where they sat, and this was the reference made to the vine. Other Bible scholars point to John 14.31 where Jesus says to his disciples, arise, let us go hence, inferring that they had left the upper room while this discourse was being made, along the way to Gethsemane where, as they crossed the Kidron, they saw the bright fires lighting up the nighttime sky from the vine cuttings which were being burned. Either way, it's striking imagery, isn't it, friends? I like to think this discourse occurred while they were walking along in their little band, with Jesus leading the way and the disciples keeping up with him and hanging on every word that fell from his lips as they slowly made their way to Gethsemane where Jesus would be taken from them and arrested, and they would each flee like cowards and desert him, for the best of men are merely men at best.

Well, as they walk along, Jesus knows this is the last moment he would have with them as a group, and it's before his arrest and crucifixion, and it's a solemn moment. He wants to impart to them some vital truths and practical principles that will get them through the trying and difficult time ahead when he is taken away from them. They must learn the abiding principle of the vine and the branches and apply these truths to their lives as they go out into the world as witnesses for him and the gospel.

Well, let's get into the meat of the message as we study what it means to us personally to have the abiding. Let us read this chapter beginning in verse one. Here now is the word of God, and may the Spirit of the Lord attend the reading of his holy word.

I am the true vine, and my Father is the husbandman. Let me pause here, Francis, to say this remarkable introduction is loaded with rich truths. The Greek language is so much richer than our own, and in the original Greek it reads, I, in contradistinction to anyone else, am the genuine vine, and my Father is the tiller of the soil.

Here Jesus declares his distinguishing and utter difference from mankind. No one else is quite like him. All others are fakes and frauds compared to him, the genuine vine.

He is the real Messiah, the one true God. He is the Savior. There's no other way to heaven but by him.

All others who make that claim are false prophets. He alone is the genuine vine. In contradistinction to anyone else, he is entirely different from us, from my thoughts, or not your thoughts.

Neither are your ways. My ways, saith the Lord. He is the true vine.

Now notice, Francis, what Jesus states about the Father. He says he is the tiller of the soil. This passage speaks of agriculture, farming, fruit production, and harvest.

God the Father is the husbandman who is our keeper. He exercises great care over the cultivation of his garden. He digs deep.

He prunes back to further develop growth. It is God himself who holds the divine pruning knife that goes to work on the branches. He is looking for fruit.

Is this not the wording in verse 2? Every branch in me that beareth not fruit he taketh away, and every branch that beareth fruit he purgeth it, that it may bring forth more fruit. The trials and tribulations in our life are all under the sovereign providence of a wise creator who has her best interests at heart, but he must and he will prune us for further growth to be more Christ-like. I'll never forget years ago I was preaching out of this passage from John 15, and I was addressing a room full of pastors at the Stephen Offord Center for Biblical Preaching in Memphis, Tennessee, and God seemed pleased that night to do a work among us because while I was bringing out this truth of the divine pruning knife held in the hand of God, the very atmosphere of that room changed.

Quite suddenly the faces of those pastors became altered. They sat on the edge of their seats as their faces became alarmed as they appeared to be gripped with eternity and the God of that eternity. After I was through speaking and a line was formed to speak to me, an elderly black pastor walked up to me, threw his arms around me, and he said, I've been a pastor for 40 years, but tonight when I get home I'm gonna drop on my knees by my bed, and I'm gonna ask the Lord to get out his pruning knife on me and my ministry.

And that's where I want us to be, friends, as we go through this study, this series on the abiding. I want each of us to get so serious with God that we will be willing to ask God to take out his divine pruning knife on us and our ministry. How desperate is our desire for God to make us fruitful boughs for him.

A truth that cannot be avoided is this, the more you desire usefulness to God, the more pruning you will experience as the divine husband that makes you more like his son Jesus. Hebrews chapter 5 and verses 7 through 9 bear significance to our subject today. Who in the days of his flesh when he had offered up prayers and supplications with strong crying and tears unto him that was able to save him from death and was heard in that he feared though he were a son yet learned he obedience by the things which he suffered and being made perfect he became the author of eternal salvation unto all them that obey him.

You see, Francis, whole matter of usefulness unto God falls under the pruning knife in the master's hand. Do you desire usefulness? Then be prepared to suffer. This is the best illustration I can give you from a photograph of Charles Spurgeon that I have.

I have a photo of Charles Spurgeon sitting at his desk with a quill pen in one hand and the other hand resting beneath his bearded chin. Spurgeon's eyes are framed by deep circles from wear and fatigue. The dark circles beneath his eyes are so prominent that they look as though they were made by a black magic marker.

Spurgeon's face reveals a great atlas-like weight upon him. Weariness and burden is written all over his tired face. He sits there regally, like a tragic king whose kingdom is heavy upon his shoulders.

He is marred by life and Christian service. His painfully sad eyes portray a deep manic depression. He sits there absorbed in his work yet detached.

Perhaps his mind is off in a more pleasant locale like Mente in France, his beloved winter retreat. He sits there as an object of pity. Yet how can this be? He is the great Spurgeon, but he looks like a worn-out old man, yet he is just fifty-six.

The burden and care of the ministry mar his once cheery countenance. He is not the jovial Spurgeon here, but one who is acquainted with grief. He is a man well familiar with a life lived beneath the divine pruning knife, the knife which cuts away, strips away, peels away.

Yet when one looks at Spurgeon's face in this photo, his face reveals another visage altogether. The face of Christ peers out beautifully behind Spurgeon's sagging face. The man of sorrows is abiding in him, comforting him, encouraging him, encouraging him on to finish the race.

For to be Christlike is not to receive awards, accolades, or applause. Rather, it is to be deeply familiar with great suffering and emptying. Christ knew reproach, ridicule, and abandonment of friends.

He was scorned and spat upon and nailed to a bloody cross. He bore reproach and he bore our sins. The weight of the cross would have been too unbearable for us.

The photo of Spurgeon reveals just how Christlike he was. He knew that the abiding life had a pruning knife smack dab in the middle of it. As we go to our time of prayer, friends, let us ponder these things.

For the glory of God, let us pray.