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Fruitful Through the Vine



There is something odd about a bowl of artificial fruit. From a distance, it looks flawless—shiny apples, spotless grapes, a perfectly curved banana. But step closer and the illusion fades. You realize it is cold. Dusty. Hollow. It offers no nourishment, no sweetness, no seeds for new life. It looks real, but it is lifeless.


Jesus warns us about that kind of fruit.


In John 15, just hours before the cross, He sat with His disciples in the Upper Room and gave them a metaphor that would become a lifeline. Not a warm image for a coffee mug, but a spiritual reality that separates true life from false appearance. He said:

“I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener.” (John 15:1)

This is not about spiritual effort. It is about spiritual connection. It is about the kind of fruit that only grows from a soul rooted in Christ.


It is not enough to look fruitful. Jesus wants us to be fruitful.


A Wake-Up Call in a Metaphor

The disciples didn’t hear the word “vine” and scratch their heads. They knew the image. In the Old Testament, Israel is repeatedly called God’s vine. Psalm 80 speaks of God bringing a vine out of Egypt, planting it in the land and expecting a harvest. But the harvest never came. Jeremiah 2 says Israel became a “wild vine,” untamed and unproductive.


The vine, once a symbol of hope, had become a symbol of failure.


So when Jesus said, “I am the true vine,” He was not speaking poetry. He was making a bold declaration. He was the faithful vine Israel was always meant to be. He would produce the fruit the Father had always desired. And anyone who wanted true life would need to be connected to Him.


He was saying: Not Israel. Not religion. Not heritage. Me.


The Vine and the Gardener

Jesus continues, “I am the vine, you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit. Apart from me, you can do nothing.” (John 15:5)


That is not exaggeration. It is diagnosis.


Without Him, we can preach sermons, raise kids, lead ministries, and still produce nothing that lasts. Nothing that nourishes. Nothing that glorifies God.


We do not bear fruit by trying harder. We bear fruit by staying connected.

Fruit does not grow from pressure. It grows from presence.

The Father is not a distant deity. He is the Gardener. He walks among the rows. He knows what is growing and what is not. He knows which branches need pruning and which need lifting. And He never leaves His vine untended.


Lifted, Not Cut Off

Jesus says the Father “cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit” (John 15:2). That phrase “cuts off” can also be translated “lifts up.” In Greek, the word is airo, which can mean to raise or elevate. And in springtime viticulture, when a branch was dragging in the dirt, the gardener didn’t discard it. He lifted it up, cleaned it, and tied it to the trellis so it could grow again.


That is the picture of God’s grace.

God doesn’t discard fruitless believers. He lifts them to restore them.

If you feel unproductive in your walk with Christ, He has not given up on you. He is at work, gently lifting, gently cleansing, patiently preparing you to bear fruit again.


And if you are bearing fruit, expect the shears.


The Father prunes fruitful branches so they will be even more fruitful. He trims away the clutter, the distractions, the self-reliance. Not to harm you, but to help you flourish.

Pruning is pain with a purpose.

The Fruit That Glorifies God

Jesus said, “This is to my Father’s glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples.” (John 15:8)


Real fruit does three things.

It glorifies God.

It blesses others.

It fills you with joy.


Paul describes the fruit of the Spirit as “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control” (Galatians 5:22–23). That is not a personality quiz. It is the character of Christ growing in you.


And it is not just for you. Branches do not eat their own fruit. Your fruit is for others—your family, your coworkers, your church, your neighbors. It is God’s way of feeding the world through you.


The Cross Is the Trellis

Vines do not grow upward like trees. They must be trained on a trellis. The branches are tied and stretched along the structure so they can receive light and bear fruit.


Jesus too was lifted up. Not onto a trellis to train His growth, but onto a cross to pour out His grace.

The cross became His trellis.

Stretched between heaven and earth, Jesus gave His life so we could be grafted into His. And just as grapes are crushed to become wine, Jesus was pierced so His blood could become the wine of our forgiveness.


At the Last Supper, Jesus lifted a cup and said, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood, poured out for you.” (Luke 22:20)

The fruit of the true vine became the wine of our salvation.

What Kind of Fruit Is He Finding?

So let’s ask what Jesus asked, without fear or pretense:

Are you bearing fruit?


Not activity. Not reputation. Not effort.

Real fruit.

The kind that only grows through abiding.

The kind that reveals Christ is alive in you.


And if you’re not, that does not mean He is done with you.

He may be lifting you.

He may be pruning you.

He may be preparing you for more than you can imagine.


So stop measuring your life by results.

Start measuring it by closeness.

Stop asking, “Am I doing enough?

”Start asking, “Am I staying near?”


Because if you stay connected to the true Vine, the fruit will come. Not because you forced it. But because Jesus is faithful.

"He didn’t just show us how to live. He gave His life so we could share in His."

So trust the Vine.

Welcome the pruning.

Bear the fruit that glorifies the Father.


Because the Gardener did not choose you just to survive.


He chose you to bear fruit that will last.

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