Saint Andrew’s Church
Lake Worth, Florida

Eve of the Sixth Sunday of Easter (May 4, 2002)
Canon Richard T. Nolan

Informal Evening Reflections on Keeping Vines and Relationships Well Spaced

         The familiar words “I am the vine, you are the branches” are central to tonight’s Gospel reading. You and I are reminded that as followers of Christ, we are deeply bonded with his life and to the fellowship of the Christian community. Tonight I would like to use these words as a launch pad to some concerns only indirectly related to the text. However, I do want to tell you that this is a revised and briefer version of a sermon I gave about 20 years ago – which resulted in one new family leaving the congregation I was serving; they thought I was talking about them – as if I could have magically known their family circumstances!

         I must also confess to you that whenever I hear about vines from scripture, my thoughts go elsewhere. I remember well the several trellises of dense rose vines extending along the front porch of the home where I lived during my childhood. You can imagine my amazement when I found my father cutting them down! As always, Dad had good reasons for making any changes. The vines were rotting the wood that framed the porch; they kept the porch and adjacent living room in darkness, and most important of all, I – his only child - had become allergic to roses. Initially I wondered if it was because Mom and Dad found out that whenever I wanted to go to the neighborhood grocery store to buy a popsicle, I sold a rose from the vines to my grandfather (who lived with us). Of course, Grampa Nolan knew exactly what was going on, although I thought I was being quite clever! In any case, Dad was putting me out of business.

         The symbolism of Christ as the vine and ourselves as the branches can be expanded to include the harmfulness of branches that have grown too close to each other. The proper spacing of branches is necessary for the entire plant to grow well and bear fruit. Placed too closely, branches can suffocate each other and hinder growth.

         And so it is with people. For example, in some relationships an individual might become very possessive. Valuing close relations, a possessive person might cling to spouse, friends or associates. A sense of exclusive entitlement to their time and attention sets in. A possessor might try to erect a protective wall that discourages others from entering the circle, individuals who might the divert attention of those to whom we cling. I recall well substituting at a marriage where at the last moment the scheduled priest was unable to be on hand. I remember the horror I felt in the office immediately after the service when, as documents were signed, the possessive bride and equally possessive groom chatted about their new life together. She was reminded that there was no reason she couldn’t answer the phone quickly, if her new husband called home from work. He was told that his night out with the boys was over, because now they were “one.” They seemed to own each other. They denied each other any space to be and to grow. They imagined that they could be everything to each other. I’ve often wondered whether that marriage survived, and if it did, what degree of healthiness was maintained.

         Another tender concern is with overprotective parents who are possessive of their children. Possessive parents can stifle and prevent the growth of their children - indeed paralyze them, as a large branch covers smaller ones on the vine. I have heard that a custom in a remote culture is to send adolescent boys off to stay for a time with elders to learn from them. When a boy returns home, his mother is standing with an empty bowl in the doorway expecting an important ritual. As her son approaches, the mother implores the son to give her the water in his bowl. And he does – by throwing the water in her face. This anticipated act symbolizes the boy’s changed relationship with his mother; he now has the responsibilities for making decisions about his life, and that when it comes to charting his own life, his mother must let go. Control of his life is now in his hands, not hers.

         We could all cite example after example of possessive relationships that are like vine branches which are too dense, resulting in associations that have become oppressive, imbalanced, or gloomy. I am convinced that possessiveness is one of the most limiting and destructive elements that can enter virtually all human relations. I wish I could provide a precise formula that could measure the optimum space in various relationships, but I cannot. Nonetheless, you and I can have in the back of our minds some fundamental questions: Do I always give individuals in my circle the choice of whether I’m to be present? Am I sensitive to others’ needs for privacy? Do I accept people’s needs for associations other than with me? Do I constantly offer uncalled-for advice? Am I controlling and manipulative? Is our relationship mutual and well balanced?

         When well-spaced branches have room to be, when they flourish in brightness, each gaining strength, each yielding its own special beauty, human relationships become like those on the vine of Christ: united in purpose, sharing their life bonded in mutual love.