http://rss.desiringgod.org/link/10732/14811424/unity-in-truth-by-love-overview

My son loves photography. He knows how to frame the shot just so, using the right amount of zoom to bring out the subject. Looking at original paintings displayed in a gallery, in a similar way, allows you to move yourself both closer and farther away. Your perspective on the whole picture and its detail changes as you move in and out.

Reading Scripture is similar — we need to zoom in and out to understand properly what God is saying. For example, how do you respond to the picture of the vine and branches that Jesus paints in John 15? Is it reassuring or confusing? Stabilizing or destabilizing?

Worryingly, is Jesus saying that we can be truly one with him but then lose our place? Does he intend to leave us feeling shaky and insecure? Thankfully, as we zoom in and out, we see that the answer is no. Jesus teaches us about the vine and branches so that we might know his joy and our joy might be full (John 15:11).

You-in-Me and Me-in-You

“I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing” (John 15:5). Jesus paints a picture here of a living vine — green, full of fruit, and flourishing. Jesus is together with those he loves, made one. This is real you-in-me and me-in-you connection and relationship with Jesus.

Zoom in closer and you’ll see something else: dead, fruitless branches (15:2), not vitally united by the Spirit to the person of Jesus and his life. They’re on the vine, hanging around Jesus. They might claim to be Christians, but they probably wouldn’t even be comfortable saying to Jesus, “Lord, you’re in me, and I’m in you.” Some people are existing like that lifeless wood. They’re not united to the source of life, not “grafted in.” It’s a precarious position, to say the least (15:2, 6).

Zoom out to the big picture, however, and you’ll find the friendship formula of you-in-me and me-in-you in John 14 and 17 too. It’s how Jesus, in John’s Gospel, describes life as opposed to death. It’s union with him as opposed to being apart from him — or vitally connected, fruit-bearing branches as opposed to empty ones (15:5–6).

That friendship formula of mutual indwelling stands out in John 15 as well. The Greek word for “abide” means staying put. Here’s a good translation of verse 5: “Whoever is lastingly in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.” You in Christ and him in you, for keeps. No single translation is perfect, but “lives” or “dwells” also captures the thrust. This is unbreakable friendship and, wonderfully, friendship where he loved us first.

Forever Secure

Zoom out even further and you’ll find the same friendship formula of mutual indwelling in John 6 (and throughout 1 John), describing what it means to be vitally united to Jesus — one with him.

John 6 explains, in effect, how someone becomes “grafted into” the living vine. Changing the metaphor, they’re hungry and thirsty. They come to Jesus (6:35). They trust him, person-to-person, looking to him now for life. They put themselves in Jesus’s hands. It’s decidedly relational. At the same time, from God’s side, the Father is giving the person into Jesus’s hands (6:37). This is so beautiful. Think about it: the Father and the Son agreeing to hold someone, in eternal life, forevermore.

All that the Father gives me will come to me, and whoever comes to me I will never cast out. . . . For this is the will of my Father, that everyone who looks on the Son and believes in him has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day. (6:37, 40; my translation)

You actively believe and trust Jesus; his arms embrace and hold you securely, tenderly, within the vine. On that last day, those same arms will be sure to raise you up into glory. Jesus promises here that he doesn’t cast out; he doesn’t abandon. You can’t lose your place in the living vine. It just can’t happen.

Keep the focus on John 6 for a moment longer. You see that if you’re trusting Jesus and his death for you, the eternal life you already have is, at its heart, you-in-me and me-in-you relationship with Jesus (6:54, 56). It’s spiritual and real — the difference between life in the vine and death.

“As the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever feeds on me, he also will live because of me” (6:57). It is no more possible for his people to fall out of loving relationship with Jesus than it is for him to fall out of you-in-me and me-in-you relationship with the Father. It just can’t happen!

Sweet Invitation

Let’s take our cameras and zoom back in now on John 15. “Abide [live] in me, and I in you,” Jesus says (15:4). It’s the same two-way formula that describes vital union with Jesus. But here, Jesus is urging, even commanding, us to find life in him, in the vine.

For someone who doesn’t know Jesus, this is a sweet invitation to come to him. For those already in real relationship with him, here is the voice of Jesus reminding us what salvation and life are all about. Jesus’s sheep know (and are known by) him, and so they listen to his voice (10:15–16). They need his words, they desire his words, and they listen to him. They ask for the fruit he has promised to produce in and through them (15:7–8), and they step out in love for one another.

Whoever we are, this is a sweet, sweet invitation from the Lord of everything to keep on receiving and returning his love. Paul also urges believers to keep doing what believers do: “Continue in the faith, stable and steadfast, not shifting from the hope of the gospel” (Colossians 1:23).

This hope of the gospel flows from the love of the Father and the Son. And Jesus loves his own as the Father loves him (15:9). So lean in! It’s no burden to rest in the vine and in that love, any more than it’s a burden to drink when we’re thirsty. If you’re somehow fearing Jesus’s rejection, then verse 4 is very good news — someone’s command to dwell or live in him, and him in us, cannot be withholding. Jesus’s command here is the sweetest and most generous of invitations.

To “abide,” then, is not some special spiritual technique, but instead the posture of trust in Jesus, resting in his love (15:9), lived out in glad obedience to him (15:10). It’s joy-full (15:11). And every branch united to him in two-way friendship is guaranteed fruit that will stand the test of time.

Share and Participate

It’s possible to hang around Jesus (and Christianity) and not actually be relating to Jesus. Someone can subscribe to doctrines, but not actually trust and lean into the one who is love and life. Someone can show up, but not love and worship Christ — and so misunderstand the very nature of the Christian life.

What should worry us? Independence, being determined to go it alone, apart from Jesus (15:5). Peril consists in refusing to come and be cleansed, pruned, and beautified by the Father (15:2–3); refusing to lean into Christ’s love; refusing to be vitally united to him. Do you see obedience as a burden rather than the chance to share and participate in everything that Jesus and the Father love (15:10)?

When someone you really want to be with says, “Marry me!” you know it’s not just a sweet invitation for that day or year, but one that anticipates living and dwelling together as one, every day into the future. It’s a statement of commitment, each to the other — to keep inviting the other person in relationally, and to keep making oneself available. It anticipates being reciprocated. And there’s the joy of a beautiful, ongoing dynamic.

“Abide in me, and I in you,” Jesus says. Eternally.

That’s got to be stabilizing, to say the least!

There are two opposite ways to change the world: our way versus the Jesus way. Our way is to get pushy, even violent. The Jesus way is to get humble, even overlooked. Both the extreme political left and the extreme political right in our nation today too often choose the foolish way. And any politics, without the beautiful humanity of the Jesus way, ends up making life worse for everyone.

Advent is a good time for all of us, whatever our politics, to slow down and stare at Jesus for a while. Doing so can only make life better for us and for everyone.

Change Through Swagger

The prophet Isaiah foresaw the only one who can change the world for the better — permanently. One of Isaiah’s favorite ways of describing Jesus was as “the servant of the Lord.” But right before Isaiah introduces him in chapter 42, he shows us another world leader in chapter 41. In the words of God himself:

I stirred up one from the north, and he has come. . . . He shall trample on rulers as on mortar, as the potter treads clay. (Isaiah 41:25)

“Advent is a good time for all of us, whatever our politics, to slow down and stare at Jesus for a while.”

God is claiming sovereignty over Cyrus the Great, the Persian warlord whose armies swept victoriously over the ancient world five centuries before Christ. Cyrus was one of this world’s typically successful tough guys. He stepped on people to get ahead (Isaiah 41:2).

And brutality is one way to change the world, I suppose. But does it work, really? One political overreach only sets in motion a pendulum swing in sharp reaction, back and forth, on and on. That’s our way.

Change Through Humility

Thanks be to God, the bullying and brutality all across the sad length of human history — our defunct strategies — are not our only hope. There is also the Jesus way of changing the world. Isaiah introduces this humble servant with words from God himself:

Behold my servant, whom I uphold,     my chosen, in whom my soul delights;I have put my Spirit upon him;     he will bring forth justice to the nations.He will not cry aloud or lift up his voice,     or make it heard in the street;a bruised reed he will not break,     and a faintly burning wick he will not quench;     he will faithfully bring forth justice.He will not grow faint or be discouraged     till he has established justice in the earth;     and the coastlands wait for his law. (Isaiah 42:1–4)

The key word is justice. We see it three times. Isaiah’s Hebrew is not easy to translate. The English word justice is accurate, but the Hebrew suggests more than legal correctness.

This word is used, for example, in the book of Exodus for the plan of the tabernacle (Exodus 26:30). God gave Moses a kind of blueprint for building the tabernacle, and it came out just right. That’s the word Isaiah uses. It tells us that God has a plan, a blueprint, for truly human existence. But we can’t achieve it by fighting to get our own way. “He will bring forth justice” the Jesus way — by serving us, as an egoless nobody.

He Heals the Bruised

He was not Jesus the Great, to outmatch Cyrus the Great. He came to us as the Lord’s servant, with spiritual power not of this world. Two thousand years ago, with no fanfare, no hoopla, Jesus began a change that will not stop until all his people are healed (Matthew 12:15–21).

A world conqueror with no threats, no saber-rattling, no big-deal-ness? Jesus lived so modestly that no one paid him much attention until he started performing miracles. Even then, his miracles were always to help someone else, never himself.

“A bruised reed he will not break, and a faintly burning wick he will not quench” is a roundabout way of saying he will heal that bruised reed and will rekindle that faintly burning wick. Jesus restores broken people. He isn’t recruiting the heavy-hitters. He wants wounded people, exhausted people, people with doubts, people with weaknesses, injured by their own sins and by the sins of others. Those are the people he brings into his kingdom and serves.

Jesus is the only world leader who can say to us, “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28).

He Never Grows Weary

But can Jesus handle all this human need we bring to him? What about all my need, plus yours? Does he care enough and love enough and forgive enough, to make everything right again for everyone who comes to him? Look again:

He will not grow faint or be discouraged     till he has established justice in the earth,     and the coastlands wait for his law. (Isaiah 42:4)

“Today, the risen Jesus is caring for our needs, and he is not overwhelmed.”

He is gentle, but not weak like us. We start projects with high hopes. Later, we quit. But at his cross, the servant of the Lord took all our failures to himself as if they were his own. Today, the risen Jesus is caring for our needs, and he is not overwhelmed. He doesn’t need to get away from it all for a few days. Right now, as you’re reading this, Jesus is not tired, and he is not tired of you.

The Jesus Way to Change

A new world of perfect justice, created the Jesus way, is not an ideal we must attain. It is a promise of God that he will fulfill.

Even “the coastlands,” Isaiah says, will wait eagerly for his new way of life. And the coastlands were the most remote areas Isaiah could think of. The complete triumph of the gospel is not a hot trend to hit the big cities but leave out the boondocks. There’s just no pride in Jesus at all. His heart is moved for you, wherever you are.

This world will never change by our tribe, whoever that might be, finally winning so big that the victory can’t be reversed. Our tragic world has already begun to change for the better — the Jesus way. Here we find the delight of God, the Holy Spirit, humble modesty, gentle healing, faithful resilience — all of this in Jesus Christ crucified, risen, reigning, and returning.

Advent reminds us not to stake our hopes for the future on worldly strategies. Let’s dare to follow the Jesus way. It’s how his new world appears even now.