Anxious for Nothing: Finding Calm in a Chaotic World

by Max Lucado

Jesus’ allegory is simple. God is like a vine keeper. He lives and loves to coax the best out of his vines. He pampers, prunes, blesses, and cuts. His aim is singular: “What can I do to prompt produce?” God is a capable orchardist who carefully superintends the vineyard. And Jesus plays the role of the vine. We nongardeners might confuse the vine and the branch. To see the vine, lower your gaze from the stringy, winding branches to the thick base below. The vine is the root and trunk of the plant. It cables nutrients from the soil to the branches. Jesus makes the stunning claim, “I am the real root of life.” If anything good comes into our lives, he is the conduit. And who are we? We are the branches. We bear fruit: “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness” (Gal. 5:22 NASB). We meditate on what is “true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable… excellent and worthy of praise” (Phil. 4:8 NLT). Our gentleness is evident to all. We bask in the “peace of God, which transcends all understanding” (Phil. 4:7 NIV). And as we cling to Christ, God is honored. “My Father is glorified by this, that you bear much fruit, and so prove to be My disciples” (John 15:8 NASB). The Father tends. Jesus nourishes. We receive, and grapes appear. Passersby, stunned at the overflowing baskets of love, grace, and peace, can’t help but ask, “Who runs this vineyard?” And God is honored. For this reason fruit bearing matters to God.