Jesus in Gethsemane
(No. 2767)
A SERMON INTENDED FOR READING ON LORD'S-DAY, FEBRUARY 23, 1902.
DELIVERED BY C. H. SPURGEON,
AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON, ON LORD'S-DAY EVENING, MARCH
6, 1881.
"When Jesus had spoken these words, He went forth with His disciples
over the Brook Kidron, where there was a garden, which He and His
disciples entered. And Judas, who betrayed Him, also knew the place;
for Jesus often met there with His disciples." John 18:1,2.
I REMEMBER to have read somewhere, though I cannot just now recall the
authority, that Bethany–to which place one would have thought the
Savior would have gone to spend the night, at the house of Mary and her
sister, Martha, was over the brow of the Mount of Olives and was out of
the bounds of the city of Jerusalem. Now, at the Passover, it was
incumbent that all who kept the feast should spend the whole night
within the boundary of the city and our Divine Lord and Master,
scrupulous to observe every point of the old Law of God, did not go
over the hill, but stayed within the area which was technically
considered to be part and parcel of Jerusalem–so that His going to
Gethsemane was, in part, a fulfillment of the Ceremonial Law and, for
that reason, He went no further and sought no other shelter.
Our Lord also knew that on that particular night He would be betrayed
into the hands of His enemies and, therefore, He would need to be
prepared, by a special season of devotion, for the terrible ordeal He
was about to endure. That Passover night was a night to be remembered
on this account and He would, therefore, keep it peculiarly sacred. But
it was to be made still more memorable as the time of the commencement
of His passion sufferings, so He determined to spend the whole night in
prayer to His Father. In this act He reminds us of Jacob by the Brook
Jabbok–when he had to face trouble in the morning, he spent the night
in wrestling prayer–and this Greater Jacob spent His night, not by
Jabbok, but by the black, foul Brook Kidron, and there wrestled with
mightier Power. Even. than the Patriarch put forth in his notable night
struggle with the Angel of the Covenant. I want you to try, in thought,
to go as far as Gethsemane. And I think you ought to be encouraged to
go there because our text says, "Jesus often met there with His
disciples."
I. And, first, so far as we can in thought, LET US VIEW THE PLACE.
I have never seen the Garden of Gethsemane. Many travelers tell us that
they have done so and they have described what they saw there. My
impression is that not one of them ever saw the real spot and that not
a trace of it remains. There are certain old olive trees, within an
enclosure, which are commonly thought to have been growing at the time
of the Savior–but that seems scarcely possible, for Josephus tells us
that the whole of the trees round about Jerusalem were cut down–many
of them to be made into crosses for the crucifixion of the Jews. Others
of them to assist in building the bulwarks with which the Roman emperor
surrounded the doomed city. There does not seem to have been scarcely
anything left that would be a true relic of the old city and I cannot
imagine that the olive trees would be spared. From what I have heard
from Brothers and Sisters who have gone to the reputed Garden of
Gethsemane, I conclude that it is not very helpful to one's devotions
to go there at all. One who thought to spend a part of his Sabbath
there, and who hoped to enjoy much fellowship with Christ in the place,
said that he was made very bitterly to learn the meaning of our
Savior's words to the woman at the well of Sychar, "The hour comes when
you shall neither, in this mountain, nor yet at Jerusalem, worship the
Father…The hour comes, and now is, when the true worshippers shall
worship the Father in spirit and in truth: for the Father seeks such to
worship Him."
I do not want to find out exactly where Gethsemane was. It is enough
for me to know that it was at the side of Mount Olivet and that it was
a very retired spot. My conception of it is the result of having, for
many winters, resided in a little town in the South of France where
olive trees grow to perfection and where, on the side of the hills, I
have often sat down in olive groves and I have said to myself,
"Gethsemane was a place just like this." I am sure it was so, because
one olive garden on the side of a hill must necessarily be very much
like another. The hills are lined out in terrace above terrace, each
one seldom above eight, 10, or 12 feet wide. Then you rise, say, five,
six, seven, or eight feet and there is another terrace and so on right
up the hill–and on these terraces the olive trees grow.
One of the charms of an olive garden of that kind is that as soon as
you get into it, you may sit down under the lee of the bank at the back
of the terrace–perhaps in an angle where you are sheltered from the
wind–and you will be completely hidden from all observers. I have had
persons sitting within a few yards of me, of whose presence I had no
idea. One Sabbath, when we had been spending a little time in prayer
together, I saw what appeared to be an Englishman's tall hat moving
away, at a little distance, just above one of the terraces. By-and-by,
I recognized the head that was under the hat as that of a Christian
Brother whom I knew–and I found that he had been walking up and down
there, studying his sermon for the afternoon. He had not noticed us,
except that he had heard some sounds that seemed to him like prayer and
praise. Many of you might be in an olive garden, but, unless you made
some sign of recognition to your friends, they would scarcely know that
anybody else was there! And under the thick, yet light foliage, with
the glints of sunlight shining through, or at night under the kind of
ashy, gray color, with the moonlight glimmering through with its
silvery beams, I cannot imagine a more delightful place of retreat–a
place where one would feel surer of being quite alone, even though
somebody might be near you–a place where you might feel free to
express your thoughts and your prayers because, at any rate, to your
own consciousness, you would seem to be entirely alone.
I cannot help thinking that our Savior also loved to get among the
olive trees because of the very congenial form of the olive. It twists
and winds and turns about as though it were in an agony. It has to draw
up oil out of the flinty rock and it seems to do so with labor and
travail. The very shape of many olive trees seems to suggest that
thought. So, an olive garden is a place of painful pleasure and of
fruitful toil, where the oil is rich and fat, but where much effort has
to be expended in the extraction of it out of the hard soil on which
the olive stands. I believe that others have felt about this matter as
I have felt, namely, that there is no tree which seems more suggestive
of a fellow-feeling with the sufferer than an olive–no shade that is
more sweetly pensive, more suitable to the season of sorrow–and the
hour of devout meditation. I marvel not, therefore, that Jesus sought
the Garden of Gethsemane that He might be quite alone–that He might
pour out His soul before God and yet might have some companions within
call without being disturbed by their immediate presence.
One reason for His going to that particular garden was because He had
gone there so often that He loved to be in the old familiar place. Do
you not feel something of that in your own special place of prayer? I
do not like reading out of other people's Bibles as well as out of my
own. I do not know how it is, but I like my own study Bible best of
all, and if I must have a smaller one, I prefer one that has the words
on the same page as in my Bible so that I may easily find them. And I
do not know whether you feel the same, but I can usually pray best in
one place. There are certain spots where I delight to be when I draw
near to God–there is some association connected with them of former
interviews with my Heavenly Father that makes the old armchair to be
the very best place at which one can kneel. So, I think the Savior
loved Gethsemane because He had oftentimes resorted there with His
disciples and, therefore, He makes that the sacred spot where His last
agony of prayer shall be poured out before His Father.
II. That, however, is only the introduction to the main matter of our
meditations. So, now, LET US VIEW THE SAVIOR IN GETHSEMANE, THAT WE MAY
IMITATE HIM.
And, first, our blessed Lord is to be imitated by us in that He
frequently sought and enjoyed retirement His was a very busy life. He
had much more to do than you and I have, yet He found abundant time for
private prayer. He was much holier than any of us are, yet He realized
His need of private prayer and meditation. He was much wiser than we
shall ever be, yet He felt the necessity for retiring into solitude for
communion with His Father. He had much power over Himself, He could
control and compose Himself far more readily than we can, yet, amid the
distractions of the world, He felt that He must frequently get away
alone. It would be well for us if we were more often alone. We are so
busy–so taken up with this or that committee meeting, working-class,
Sunday school, preaching, talking, visiting, gossiping–all
sorts of things, good, bad, or indifferent–that we have no leisure for
the due cultivation of our spiritual life! We rush from pillar to post
without proper time for rest, but, Brothers and Sisters, if we want to
be strong, if we mean to be like Jesus, our Lord and Savior, we must
have our Gethsemane, our place for secret retirement where we can get
alone with our God. I think it was Luther who said, "I have a hard
day's work before me today–it will take me many hours and there will
be a stern struggle, so I must have at least three hours prayer, that I
may gain the necessary strength for my task." Ah, we do not act in that
wise fashion nowadays–we feel as if we cannot spare the time for
private prayer, but, had we more communion with God–we would have more
influence with men.
But our blessed Master is especially to be imitated in that He sought
retirement when He was about to enter upon the great struggle of His
life. Just then, when Judas was about to give the traitor's kiss–when
scribes and Pharisees were about to hound Him to the Cross–it was then
that He felt that He must get away to Gethsemane and be alone in prayer
with His Father! What did you do, my dear Brother, when you apprehended
trial? Why, you sought out a sympathizing friend! I shall not blame you
for desiring the consolations of true friendship, but I shall not
commend you if you put them into the place of communion with God. Are
you, even now, dreading some approaching calamity? What are you doing
to meet it? I will not suggest that you should neglect certain
precautions, but I would admonish you that the first and best
precaution is to get away to your God in prayer! As the feeble conies
find their shelter in the solid rock, and as the doves fly away to
their home in the dovecot, so should Christians, when they expect
trouble, fly straight away to their God upon the wings of fear and
faith! Your great strength does not lie in your hair, otherwise you
might feel as proud as Samson was in the days of his victories! Your
great strength lies in your God! Therefore, get away to Him with all
speed and ask Him from help in this, your hour of need!
Some of you pray when you are, as it were, at Calvary, but not at
Gethsemane. I mean you pray when the trouble comes upon you, but not
when it is on the road. Yet your Master here teaches you that to
conquer at your Calvary, you must commence by wrestling at your
Gethsemane. When as yet it is but the shadow of your coming trial that
spreads its black wings over you, cry to God for help! When you are not
emptying the bitter cup–when you are only sipping the first drops of
the wormwood and the gall, begin, even then, to pray, "Not as I will,
but as You will, O my Father!" You will thus be the better able to
drink of the cup to its very dregs when God shall place it in your
hands.
We may also imitate our Lord–as far as it would be in our line, in His
taking His disciples with Him. At any rate, if we do not imitate Him in
this respect, we may certainly admire Him, for He took the disciples
with Him, I think, for two purposes. First, for their good. Remember,
Brothers and Sisters, that the next morning was to be a day of trial
for them as well as for Himself. He was to be taken to trial and
condemnation, but they were to be severely tried, in their fidelity to
Him, by seeing their Lord and Master put to a shameful death. So He
took them with Him that they also might pray–that they might learn how
to pray by hearing His wondrous prayers–that they might watch and
pray, lest they should enter into temptation. Now, sometimes in your
special hour of trouble, I believe that it will be for the good of
others for you to communicate to them the story of your distress and
ask them to join you in prayer concerning it. I have often done this,
so I can urge you to do the same. I found it a great blessing, on one
dark day of my life, to ask my sons, though they were but lads, to come
into my room and pray with their father in his time of trouble. I know
that it was good for them, and their prayers were helpful to me, but I
acted as I did in part that they might realize their share in domestic
responsibilities–that they might come to know their father's God–and
might learn to trust Him in their time of trouble.
But our Savior also took His disciples with Him to Gethsemane that they
might assist to comfort Him and, in this respect, He is to be imitated
by us because of His wonderful humility. If those disciples had all
done their best, what would it have been worth? But what they really
did was most discouraging to Christ, instead of being at all helpful to
Him. They went to sleep when they should have watched with their Lord
and they did not assist Him with their prayers as they might have done.
It is noteworthy that He did not ask them to pray with Him–He bade
them watch and pray, lest they should enter into temptation. But He
said to them, "What? Could you not watch with Me one hour?" He did not
say, "What? Could you not praywith me one hour?" He knew that they
could not do that. What mortal man could pray at such a time as that,
when great drops of bloody sweat punctuated every paragraph of His
petition? No, they could not pray with Him, but they might have watched
with Him–yet that they did not.
Sometimes, dear Friends, when a very great trial comes upon you, it
will be well for you to ask some Brothers and Sisters, who cannot do
much, but who can do something to come and watch with you and pray with
you. If it does not do any good to you, it will be good for them–but
it will do good to you, also, I feel sure. Often–I have to confess
it–I have got two Brothers to kneel with me in prayer when I have been
depressed through this late illness of mine. And their honest, earnest,
hearty prayers in my study have often lifted me right up into joy and
peace! I believe it has also done them good. I know it has done me good
and I feel sure that you might often be a blessing to others if you did
not mind confessing to them when you are depressed and sad at heart.
Say, "Come into my room and watch with me one hour." And you may add to
that request this other one, "Come and pray with me," for some of them
can pray as well as you can, and even better. So imitate the Savior in
endeavoring not only to pray yourself, but to call to your assistance
the praying legion of God's elect ones when a great trial is impending.
Still, our Lord's example may mainly be followed in another direction,
namely, when we do pray in the presence of a great trouble, it is well
to pray with much importunity. Our Savior prayed in Gethsemane three
times, using the same words. He prayed with such intensity of desire
that His heart seemed to burn with anguish. The canals overflowed their
banks and the red streams came bursting down in bloody drops that fell
upon the earth in that rightly-named "olive-press." Ah, that is the way
to pray–if not actually unto a bloody sweat, as we may not have to do,
or be able to do, yet with such intensity of hearty earnestness as we
can–and as we ought–when God the Holy Spirit is working mightily in
us! We cannot expect to be helped in our time of trouble unless it is
intense prayer that we send up to Heaven.
But imitate Christ also in the matter of your prayer I feel sure that
He only softly whispered the request, "O My Father, if it is possible,
let this cup pass from Me." You also may present that petition, but
mind that you say it very softly. Yet I feel certain that it was with
all His might that our Savior said, "Nevertheless not as I will, but as
You will." In the presence or in the prospect of a great trouble, make
this your prayer to God, "Your will be done." Brace up your soul to
this point–having asked the Lord to screen you, if it should seem good
in His sight, resign yourself absolutely into His hands and say,
"Nevertheless, O my Father, not as I will, but as You will!"
It is prevailing prayer when one gets as far as that! A man is prepared
to die when he knows how to present that petition! That is the best
preparation for any cross that may come upon your shoulders. You can
die a martyr's death and clap your hands even in the midst of the fire
if you can, with all your soul, really pray as Jesus prayed, "Not as I
will, but as You will." This is the objective which I set before you,
my Brothers and Sisters in Christ–that if you are expecting
sickness–if you are fearing loss–if you are anticipating
bereavement–if you are dreading death–let this be your great
ultimatum, go to God now, in the time of your distress and, by mighty
prevailing prayer, with such prayerful sympathy as others can give you,
breathe out this one petition, "Your will be done, O my Father! Your
will be done! Help me to do it! Help me to bear it! Help me to go
through with it all to Your honor and Glory. Let me be baptized with
Your Baptism, and drink of Your cup, even to the dregs."
Sometimes, dear Friends, you may wish, in your hearts, that the Lord
would make great use of you and yet, perhaps, He may not do so. Well, a
man who holds his tongue when Christ tells him to do so, is glorifying
Christ more than if he opened his mouth and broke the Master's
commandment. There are some of the Lord's people who, by a quiet, holy,
consistent manifestation of what the Lord has done for them, glorify
Him more than they would do if they went from place to place telling
out His Gospel in a way which would make the Gospel itself disgusting
to those who heard it. That is quite possible, for some people do it.
If my Lord puts me in the front rank, blessed be His name for it, and I
must fight for Him there as best I can. But if He says to me, "Lie in
bed! Be bed-ridden for seven years, and never get up!"–I have nothing
to do but to glorify Him in that way. He is the best soldier who does
exactly what his captain bids him.
III. Now, in the third place, and only briefly, LET US VIEW THE
DISCIPLES IN GETHSEMANE, BY WAY OF
INSTRUCTION TO OURSELVES.
Probably, the disciples had often been with their Master to
Gethsemane–I suppose, sometimes by day, and oftentimes by night, in
secret conclave they had been instructed in the olive garden. It had
been their Academy! There they had been with the Master in prayer–no
doubt, each one praying and learning how to pray better from His Divine
example. Dear Brothers and Sisters, I recommend you oftentimes to get
to the place where you can best commune with your God.
But, now, the disciples came to Gethsemane because a great trouble was
impending. They were brought there that they might watch and pray. So,
get to the place of prayer, at this time of trouble, and at all other
times of trial that shall
come upon you throughout your whole life. Whenever you hear the knell
ringing out all earthly joy, let it ring you into the garden of prayer!
Whenever there is the shadow of a coming trouble looming before you,
let there also be the substance of more intense communion with God!
These disciples were, however, at this time, called to enter into
fellowship with their Master in the thicker, deeper darkness that was
coming over Him–far denser than any that was coming over them. And you
are called, dear Brothers and Sisters, each in your own measure, to be
baptized unto Jesus in the cloud and in the sea, that you may have
fellowship with Him in His sufferings. Be not ashamed to go even to
Gethsemane with Christ, entering into a knowledge of what He suffered
by being made, according to your capacity, to suffer in the same
manner. All His true followers have to go there. Some have only to
stand at the outside gate and keep watch, but His highly-favored ones
have to go into the denser gloom and to be nearer to their Lord in His
greatest agonies. If we are His true disciples, we must have fellowship
with Him in His sufferings.
Our difficulty is that the flesh shrinks from this trial, and that,
like the disciples, we sleep when we ought to watch. When the time of
trial comes, if we get depressed in spirit about it, we are apt not to
pray with that fervor and vigor which greater hopefulness would have
begotten. And when we come to feel something of what the Savior
endured, we are apt to be overwhelmed by it rather than stimulated by
it and so, when He comes to us, He finds us, like the disciples,
"sleeping for sorrow." The Master gently said, "The spirit, indeed, is
willing, but the flesh is weak." But I do not suppose that one of the
disciples made any excuse for himself. I feel, if I may judge them from
myself, that I would always have said, "I never can forgive myself for
going to sleep that night! How could I fall asleep when He said, 'Watch
with Me'? And when He came again, with His face red with bloody sweat,
and with that disappointed look upon His Countenance, said, 'What?
Could you not watch with Me one hour?' how could I go to sleep a second
time? And then, how could I go to sleep a third time?" Oh, I think that
Simon Peter must always have remembered that his Savior said to him,
"Simon, could you not watch with Me one hour?" That question must have
stuck by him all his life–and James and John must have felt the same.
Brothers and Sisters, are any of you sleeping under similar
circumstances–while Christ's Church is suffering– while Christ's
cause is suffering–while Christ's people are suffering–while a trial
is coming upon you to help you into fellowship with Him? Are you,
instead of being aroused to a higher and more intense devotion, sinking
into deeper sleep? If so, Christ may, in His great love, excuse you,
but I beg you not to begin making excuses for yourself! No, awake,
Brothers and Sisters and "watch and pray, lest you enter into
temptation."
That slumber of theirs must have been greatly rebuked by their Savior's
kindness to them. As I understand the narrative, our Lord came to His
disciples three times and, on the third occasion, He found them still
heavy with sleep, so He sat down beside them and said to them, "Sleep
on now, and take your rest." There He sat, patiently waiting for the
traitor's arrival–not expecting any help or sympathy from His
disciples, but just watching over them as they would not watch with
Him, praying for them as they would not pray for themselves–and
letting them take another nap while He made Himself ready to meet Judas
and the rabble throng that would so soon surround Him. Our Master, in
His great tenderness, sometimes indulges us with such sleeps as these,
yet we may have to regret them and to wish that we had had sufficient
strength of mind and earnestness of heart to stay awake and watch with
Him in His season of sorrow. It appears to me that of all the 11 good
disciples, there was not one who stayed awake. There was one vile
traitor and he was wideawake. He never went to sleep–he was awake
enough to sell his Master and to act as guide to those who came to
capture Him.
I think also that at least partly in consequence of that slumber of the
disciples, within a short time, "they all forsook Him and fed." They
seem, for the time, to have slept away their attachment to their Lord
and waking, as from a disturbed dream, they scarcely knew what they
did, and helter-skelter, away they fled! The sheep were all scattered
and the Shepherd was left alone, thus fulfilling the ancient prophecy,
"Smite the Shepherd and the sheep shall be scattered." And that other
word, "I have trodden the winepress alone; and of the people there was
none with me." Wake up, Brothers and Sisters, otherwise you, too, may
forsake your Master–and in the hour when you ought most to prove your
fidelity, it may be that your slumbering state of heart will lead on to
backsliding–and to forsaking of your Lord. God grant that it may not!
IV. Now I close with a word of warning which I have almost anticipated.
LET US, IN THOUGHT, GO TO GETHSEMANE TO TAKE WARNING FROM JUDAS. Let me
read to you the latter part of the text–"Judas who betrayed Him, also
knew the place: for Jesus ofttimes met there with His disciples."
"Judas who betrayed Him, also knew the place." Yes, he had probably,
many times, been there all night with Christ. He had sat with the other
disciples in a circle round their Lord on one of those olive-clad
terraces and he had listened to His wondrous words in the soft
moonlight. He had often heard His Master pray there. "Judas who
betrayed Him," had heard Him pray in Gethsemane. He knew the tones of
His voice, the pathos of His pleading, the intense agony of that great
heart of love when it was poured out in prayer! He had, no doubt,
joined with the other disciples when they said, "Lord, teach us to
pray."
"Judas who betrayed Him, also knew the place." He could have pointed
out to us the very spot where the Savior most loved to be–that angle
in the terrace, that little corner out of the way, where the Master was
known to find a seat when He sat down and taught the chosen band around
Him. Yes, Judas knew the place, and it was because he knew the place
that he was able to betray Christ, for, if he had not known where Jesus
was, he could not have taken the guard there.
It does seem, to me, very dreadful that familiarity with Christ should
have qualified this man to become a traitor. And it is still true that,
sometimes, familiarity with religion may qualify men to become
apostates. Oh, if there is a Judas here, I would speak very solemnly to
you! You know the place. You know all about church government and
church order, and you can go and tell pretty tales about the mistakes
made by some of God's servants who would not err if they could help it.
Yes, you know the church members. You know where there are flaws of
character and infirmity of spirit. You know how to go and spread the
story of them among worldlings and you can make such mischief as you
could not make if you had not known the place! Yes, and you know the
Doctrines of Grace, at least with a measure of head-knowledge, and you
know how to twist them so as to make them seem ridiculous, even those
eternal Truths of God which ravish the hearts of angels and of the
redeemed from among men! Because you know them so well, you know how to
parody them and to caricature them–and to make the Grace of God,
itself, seem to be a farce!
Yes, you know the place. You have been to the Lord's Table and you have
heard the saints speak of their raptures and their ecstasies–and you
pretended that you were sharing them. So you know how to go back to the
world and to represent true godliness as being all cant and
hypocrisy–and you make rare fun out of those most solemn secrets of
which a man would scarcely speak to his fellow because they are the
private transactions between his soul and his God!
I can hardly realize how terrible will be the doom of those who, after
making a profession of religion, have prostituted their knowledge of
the inner working of the Church of God and made it the material for
novels in which Christ's Gospel is held up to scorn! Yet there have
been such men who have not been content to be like birds that have
fouled their own nests, for they have also gone forth and also tried to
foul the nest of every believing heart that they could reach. What a
dreadful thing it will be if any one of us, here, should know the place
and, therefore, should betray the Savior! Do you know the place of
private prayer, or do you think you do? Do you know the place where men
go when the shadow of a coming trial is looming before them? Do you
think you know something about fellowship with Christ in His
sufferings? But, what if the greed of gold should override in you, as
it did in Judas, such natural attachment as you feel towards Christ and
better things? And what if even Gethsemane should, like a pit, open
wide its mouth to swallow you up? It is terrible to contemplate, yet it
may be true, for, "Judas who betrayed Him, also knew the place."
I cannot bear to think that anyone of you should be familiar with the
ins and outs of this Tabernacle and yet should betray Christ–that you
should be one of those who gather around this Communion Table, that you
should be familiar with all the loving and tender expressions which we
are known to use here, and yet, after all, should forsake our Lord and
Savior, Jesus Christ! Pass the disciples' question around and each one
ask it, "Lord, is it I? Is it I?"–
"When any turn from Zion's way, (Alas, what numbers do)! I think I hear
my Savior say, 'Will you forsake Me too?' 'Ah Lord! With such a heart
as mine, Unless You hold me fast, I feel I must, I shall decline, And
prove like them at last.'"
Therefore, hold me up, O Lord, and I shall be safe; keep me even to the
end, for Your dear Son's sake! Amen.
EXPOSITION BY C. H. SPURGEON: JOHN15:1-8.
On the way from the supper table to the Garden of Gethsemane, or while
still lingering in the upper room, our Lord spoke this wondrous
parable.
Verse 1. I am the true Vine. All other vines are but shadows of Christ.
They represent Christ, but He is Himself the substance, the essence,
the one great reality. He is the Truth of all things that exist. "I am
the true Vine." Does anybody ask which is the true Church? All who are
vitally joined to Christ are in the true Church, for He says, "I am the
true Vine."
1. And My Father is the Vinedresser He cares for the Church with
infinite wisdom and love. No one else can care for that true Vine as
the Father–the Vinedresser–does.
2. Every branch in Me that bears not fruit He takes away. If there are
any who are only nominally in Christ and who, therefore, bear no fruit,
their doom is certain, for, in order to final perseverance and eternal
safety, there must be fruit-bearing.
2, And every branch that bears fruit, He purges it, that it may bring
forth more fruit Pruning, then, is for fruit-bearers. If the branch
were dead, what would be the good of pruning it? Say not, dear Friends
that your afflictions must be caused by your sins–no, rather they may
come in consequence of your virtues Because you do bear fruit, it is
worthwhile for the Vinedresser to use His knife upon you, that you may
bring forth more fruit!
3, 4. Now you are clean through the word, which I have spoken unto you.
Abide in me, and I in you. Give good heed to that sweet word, Beloved
Brothers and Sisters, "Abide in Me." Do not seem to get into Christ and
then depart from Him. Pray for constancy to all your other Graces.
4, 5. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself except it abide in the
vine; no more can you, except you abide in Me. I am the Vine, you are
the branches. He that abides in Me, and I in him, the same brings forth
much fruit, for without Me you can do nothing. You know how the branch
is in the vine, it is a component part of the vine. But do not forget
that the vine is also in the branch–that the sap, which is the very
life of the vine, flows into every living branch. So we are in Christ,
and Christ is in us, and He says to us, as the marginal reading has it,
"Severed from Me, you can do nothing." What? Not even a little, Lord?
Can we not do something good, something acceptable apart from You? No,
"Without Me, you can do nothing."
6. If a man abide not in Me, he is cast forth as a branch, and is
withered; and men gather them, and cast them into the fire, and they
are burned. That is all that can be done with fruitless vine-branches.
You cannot make anything of them. Other trees yield timber and are
useful for various purposes, but with the vine, it is as the Prophet
Ezekiel says, "Son of man, What is the vine tree more than any tree, or
than a branch which is among the trees of the forest? Shall wood be
taken from them to do any work? Or will men take a pin of it to hang
any vessel on it? Behold, it is cast into the fire for fuel; the fire
devours both the ends of it, and the midst of it is burned. Is it meet
for any work?" It is useless if it is fruitless and so is it with
us–if we do not bear fruit unto God, we are of no service to Him
whatever.
7. If you abide in Me and My words abide in you, you shall ask what you
will, and it shall be done for you. Here is the secret of prevailing
prayer! It is not every man who chooses to pray who shall have whatever
he asks of God! But the successful pleader is the man who abides in
Christ and in whom Christ's words abide. God will not hear our words if
we disregard His words! We cannot expect our prayers to be prevalent if
we are severed from our Lord.
8. Herein is my Father glorified, that you bear much fruit; so shall
you be My disciples. "Much fruit" should be produced by the disciples
of the much-doing Christ. The true Vine was full of fruit and it
scarcely can be believed that we are branches of that Vine if we
exhibit only a little fruit. It is "much fruit" that proves our union
to this Vine.