The ticking of Heaven’s clock had become nearly audible over the last few weeks. Not that the disciples had noticed. Whether purposely obtuse or accidentally imperceptive, not one of the men closest to Jesus realized their physical time together was drawing to a close. No one seemed to understand that the things He’d told them would occur were not some distant dream, but an imminently inevitable reality. It was all Jesus could think about. He was leaving. His men were staying. There was so much more to teach them, so much they needed to fully grasp. Their spiritual strength depended on complete comprehension of the principles He was teaching. Their souls would die without the knowledge. The aftereffects of His death and subsequent physical absence would unleash times on earth that could be titled nothing other than survival of the fittest. Preparation was imperative.
He’d spent every moment of their time together attempting to equip them for His departure. Time and again He’d drawn lessons and parallels from events around them. He’d told parables and preached sermons. He’d gently reprimanded and harshly rebuked. Yet still, their human minds were veiled. Peter still needed an explanation before allowing Jesus to wash his feet. Both Simon Peter and Thomas showed a distinct dearth of comprehension when it came to where Jesus was going, why He was going, or why they couldn’t travel with Him. And Philip was clearly clueless to the unbreakable bond between God the Father and Jesus the Son. Had He been anything like me, Jesus would have thrown His hands up in exasperation and determined the teaching impossible. On behalf of the disciples then and us now, thank goodness Jesus wasn’t patterning His life after me! Instead of throwing up His hands in despair, Jesus took a deep breath and tried a new track. Abide in Me. Rest in My love. (John 13:1–6, 36-38; 14:1-11; 15:4)
In a breathtaking depiction of the eternal love of our Vinedresser, Jesus invites His disciples to dwell in Him. Live there. Spend every day wrapped up in Him. Know Him intimately. Mimic His ways. Always. He offers permanent lodging for their weatherbeaten souls in the comfort of Himself. He knows they’ll die without Him. Literally. Their spiritual lives will droop and shrivel if they attempt to become their own independent branches. They need the pruning and feeding, the nurturing and watering that life in Christ affords. When the removal of dead branches and nutrient-siphoning offshoots became unpleasant or uncomfortable, the disciples needed to remember the Vinedresser’s work was never malicious or self-serving. No. It was done in perfect love. Love they could rest in. Love they could trust. Love that would endure the test of time. Love in which they could confidently abide. Forever. The same love the Father had for His Son. (John 15:1-6)
The very thought must surely have stolen the air from their lungs. So breathtakingly beautiful it is! The infinite, unfailing, unreserved, overflowing love of God for Jesus was now lavishly spread on humanity by Jesus Christ Himself. Love that sees us in our sin and degradation, yet loves us still. Achingly. Longingly. Love so deep, so wide, so grand it transcends our guilt and blame, our unbelief and rebellion. Love that never falters when we fail. Love that loves still, even when we are unlovable, unpresentable, unfathomably mired in doubt, defection, and disgrace. Love that never fails. Not the disciples then. Not us now. Love so deep it changes our lives forever. Love so grand it turns our hearts to obedience, toward sharing the amazing love of God with the world. Jesus commanded them to live in that love. Daily. (Lamentations 3:21-23; Psalm 136; Psalm 6:4; Jeremiah 9:24; Joel 2:12-13)
In words that wash my soul in peace and calm every time I read them, Jesus leaves behind the instruction, “Abide in my love.” Live there. Rest in it. Don’t just dip your feet. Dive in and stay there. Bathe your soul in the fountain of loving acceptance and compassionate forgiveness. Soak it in. Absorb its truth. Let it take root in your soul. Embrace it. Accept it. Believe it. Jesus loves you. No matter what. When it looks impossible. When it seems improbable. When your stack of ugly adds up to absolute unacceptability, Jesus loves you with the same love His Father had for Him. Peter can vouch for it. When the situation grew tense and the climate hostile, he threw aside his promise to follow Jesus to death, vehemently denying he knew Him. Not once. Not twice. Three times. Yet Jesus loved Him still. Read Thomas’ story. Absent when Jesus originally appeared to His disciples after His resurrection, Thomas stubbornly refused to believe it had occurred. He demanded proof. Physical proof. Absolute proof. Stepping into Thomas’ cloud of stubborn unbelief, Jesus came. Held out His nail-scarred hands for inspection. Bared His spear-pierced side for Thomas’ touch. Why? Because Jesus loves people. And no matter how far you stray down the path of unbelief, no matter how many times you go off course, no matter what mess you find yourself needing rescued from, He will love you still. Know it. Believe it. Abide in it. Even when it doesn’t look the way you think it should. (John 15:9; 20:24-29; Luke 22:54-62; Romans 5:20-21; I John 4:16; Jeremiah 31:3)
Admittedly, we rarely picture love as pruning branches or deadheading plants, yet it is possibly the greatest love we can give. It is the removal of that which would cause destruction and death. True love corrects and chastens, prunes and plows in an effort to enable the loved one to flourish and grow. In the instance of our souls, the eradication of ungodly, unholy attitudes, actions, desires, and demands is the grand exhibition of an even grander love bestowed on us by our loving Heavenly Vinedresser. It is always in our best interest. It is always for our good. Even when we do not readily see it. Even when it is frustrating. Even when it puts our back up and raises our indignation. It is never angry punishment, but loving care.
You see, my friend, God loves you too much to leave you a mess. He cares too much for you to negligently release your soul to tangled overgrowth with harmful weeds and sinful sprouts. You are far too important to abandon. God’s love for you compels Him to work tirelessly and clean endlessly because He cherishes you eternally. His plan is for you to live every day secure in the knowledge of His steadfast love, even when it demands the unpleasantness of chastening and pruning, and plowing. God wants you to rest in His love, trust His heart, and live like you’re abiding. (Hebrews 12:5-11; Hosea 10:12; Deuteronomy 8:5; Psalm 94:12; Proverbs 3:11-12; Revelation 3:19)
Recently, I listened to a woman explain how God asked her to do something she didn’t want to do. It was unpleasant. The ask seemed unrealistic. She couldn’t fathom what good could come of it. From her resting place in the center of God’s love, knowing He works only for our good, she gathered her courage and obeyed. The result of her continued obedience has had rippling effects. God has worked in and through her to turn a negative situation positive. Perhaps not perfect, but positive. Why? Because she was so busy abiding, trusting, resting in the love God has for her that when He adjusted her lean from far left to due north, she didn’t throw a tantrum, she simply chose to obey His leading. Even if it was unpleasant. Even when she had other ideas. Even when others thought she should choose a different track. Resting in God’s love caused her to react in such a way her life exhibited that she was living like she was abiding.
So how are you living? What do your words and actions say about where you are abiding? Do they reflect an unkempt garden overgrown with thistles and weeds? Do they exhibit an area of dead branches and drooping leaves? Is your soul wilting or flourishing? Does your life reflect the loving care of the heavenly Vinedresser? Are you living like you’re abiding? (Psalm 15)