Let’s listen to the Gospel:
“At that time, Jesus said to his disciples: «I am the true vine and my Father is the farmer. Every branch in me that does not bear fruit, he cuts, and every branch that bears fruit, he prunes so that it bears more fruit. You are already pure, because of the word that I announced to you. Remain in me and I in you. Just as the branch cannot bear fruit on its own unless it remains in the vine, neither can you unless you remain in me. I am the vine, you are the branches. He who remains in me, and I in him, bears much fruit, for without me you can do nothing. Whoever does not remain in me is thrown away like a branch and withers; then they pick it up, throw it into the fire and burn it. If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you want and it will be done for you. In this my Father is glorified: that you bear much fruit and become my disciples”.
Looking at our countryside in these days of early spring, one is fascinated by the splendor and liveliness of the colours. The different shades of green that predominate are brushstrokes for the heart. The shoots that emerge from every tree lift life, instill hope, like an IV. That tree, that bush, that shrub that seemed dead comes back to life and is colored with flowers, cloaked in a new dress, dressed anew after the days of mourning, of silence, of poverty.
Among the other blooms and buds there is the vine. She remained there, after pruning, and now the shoots are coming back, timidly. Life is reborn. The vine comes back to life every spring. Jesus chooses this example to teach that between him and us there is a bond that is not occasional, not superficial, but generative. Just as the vine produces the branches, so we are generated by him with the gift of sonship, but we have the same roots because, although the branches are a birth from the vine, nevertheless together they have the same root from which they derive and are nourished by the same sap. “We are part of the same plant, like sparks in fire, like a drop in water, like breath in air.”
But the greatest and most innovative surprise is that God is the winemaker. Last Sunday it was the shepherd who took care of the flock, today it was the winemaker who looked after and served the vineyard. He is a caring God, always at work, always dedicated, caring so that life does not go out in us, hope does not fall asleep, joy does not fade.
But the vineyard also requires pruning to be productive. Although it is painful, it is necessary, it is healthy. It is not an amputation but a solicitation, a facilitation so that the fruit is abundant, generous and palatable. Sometimes pruning also happens in life with all the resulting inconveniences. But whoever prunes has a look of hope on the plant, a prospective, planning look. So when it happens in individual stories, if we believe that we are guided by God, cared for by him, there can only be a superior and certainly more rewarding reason even if at the moment hidden, unknown.
We must “remain” in God as the branch remains grafted into the vine. Without this permanent conjunction there will be no fruits, satisfactions or celebrations. The branches need the vine, but the vine needs the branches, otherwise the fruit is missing. It is in the embrace of the branch on the vine that bunches are harvested. It is in my life embraced by God that new gems and unusual blooms always emerge. Even my sterility, if grafted into God, is transformed into new life.
