5th Sunday of Easter B - Homily 6

Homily 6 -2024

Last week Jesus saw himself as the “Good Shepherd”. This week it is “the true vine.” He also has roles for God his Father, as well as for us. The Father is the vinedresser. As well, God is also the vineyard manager, and perhaps the quietly proud wine-maker too. As the Vine, Jesus himself seems to be the root-system, vine stock/the trunk and the chief branches — that bear the sap drawn from the roots to the smaller branches with the leaves and the bunches of grapes. We disciples seem to be those smaller branches — some of which the vinedresser selectively cuts off after each harvest and burns to kill any diseased leaves, and the remaining ones that are carefully pruned and will carry the next annual crop. For the vinedresser it is a labour of love, and a call for skill — and perhaps a source of pride if his wine eventually wins the gold medal at the local annual show.

To produce a heavy-yield, high-quality, top-quality wine calls for every part of the vine to work well, to work together.

Jesus sees this as a helpful image for the whole work of human salvation —
* initiated by God,
* achieved by himself through his life, his teaching and through his love, expressed perfectly in his crucifixion and resurrection,
* with the attentive cooperation of the Church, the community of disciples.

Today’s Gospel passage summed up the disciples’ cooperation with Jesus in the simple word “Remain”. It is one of the truly meaning-charged words that occur frequently in the Gospel of John [though sometimes it is translated differently.] It was repeated six times in today’s brief passage, and appeared twice more as the alternative “make your home in”. [Did you notice it?]

What did Jesus mean — “Make your home in me, as I make mine in you”; “Whoever remain in me, with me in them, bear fruit in plenty”? Perhaps it may be a question, not so much of understanding, as of feeling.

To me it speaks of presence to each other, of ease together, of deep intimacy — perhaps acquired, and deepened, over time. Personally, it is what I aim for most times that I settle down to pray. As I grow older, I seem to get more distracted. I don’t worry about that. I think it may be God’s way of bringing home to me the realisation that it is not my love for God but God’s love for me that is the infinitely more wonderful thing. To the extent that I believe that, I do not need to feel anything. But I have to be there to keep finding that out.

This brings me to one more observation: the remarks at the end of today’s Gospel passage.
“If you remain in me, and my words remain in you, you may ask what you will and you shall get it.” The way I see that is: The more I come to know Jesus personally, the more I ponder his message thoughtfully [as Mary did!], then the more I come gradually to think the same way as he does, to evaluate things as he does, to hope for the things that he hopes for. Inevitably what I ask for will be what he wants me to have [or to be].