Connection with God

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As Jesus was connected to the Creator, so may our relationships be rooted in God. From this abiding connection flows a deeper love for others, enabling us to bear the fruit we are called to share.

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Focus Statement

As Jesus was connected to the Creator,
so may our relationships be rooted in God.
From this abiding connection flows a deeper love for others,
enabling us to bear the fruit we are called to share.

Point of Relation

As a family, we love to travel,
especially to Disney resorts where they always welcome us "home."
It's a joy, but there's also that bittersweet "walk of shame" at the end,
luggage in tow, vacation over.
Yet, returning home brings its own comfort -
reuniting with our fur-babies,
settling back into familiar routines.
It's refreshing in its own way.
This reminds me of our journey with God.
We experience exciting spiritual adventures,
but also need the comfort of abiding in His presence.
Like coming home from a trip,
returning to God always feels like a warm
"Welcome home,"
no matter where we've been.

Things to Consider

In the vineyard of life,
we're not solitary vines,
but clusters of grapes, intertwined and interdependent.
Our connections define us,
shaping our very humanity.
Where do you find your cluster beyond our church walls?
What groups sustain you?
Who walks with you on your journey of faith?
Yet, not all connections bear sweet fruit.
Some vines, though lush, may lead us astray.
How do we discern which relationships to prune,
allowing space for healthier growth?
As we ponder these questions, remember:
healthy connection begins with our rootedness in Christ, the true vine.
From this primary relationship,
all meaningful connections flow.
How might our lives change
if we cultivated connections
that truly reflect Christ's love?

What Scripture Says

Rooted deep in the fertile ground of John's Gospel,
Jesus weaves a final "I am" statement,
a metaphor as rich as the soil from which it springs.
"I am the true vine," he declares,
his words a root system connecting heaven and earth.
This proclamation caps a series of profound self-revelations:
Jesus proclaims he is:
the bread of life,
nourishing our souls;
the light of the world,
illuminating our path;
the door to salvation;
the good shepherd,
guiding with love;
the resurrection and the life,
conquering death;
and of course:
Jesus proclaims he is
the way, the truth, and the life,
leading us to the Father.
Each "I am" peels back another layer of Christ's identity,
but this final one—the true vine—s
peaks to our very connection with the divine.
This isn't mere horticulture;
it's divine architecture,
with God as the master vinegrower,
tending to creation with calloused hands and infinite care.
Jesus, the authentic vine,
stands in stark contrast to the counterfeit connections that often ensnare us.
His relationship with the Father is not a performance but a profound symbiosis,
a dance of love and purpose that has no beginning and no end.
From this wellspring of divine intimacy,
Jesus extends tendrils of grace to us—
his disciples, his branches.
Today’s scripture paints a picture of interdependence.
We, as branches, are not autonomous beings
but extensions of Christ's very life.
"Abide in me," Jesus urges,
his words an invitation to rootedness,
to finding our home in his love.
This abiding isn't passive;
it's a dynamic dwelling,
a constant return to the source of our vitality.
Yet, the vinegrower's shears glint in the sunlight.
Pruning, the text tells us,
is not punishment but preparation for abundance.
Every snip and cut is an act of love, directing our growth towards fruitfulness.
This divine gardening is not about subtraction but multiplication—
less deadwood, more life.
The passage crescendos with a commandment
that echoes Eden's first charge: love one another.
This love, Christ says, should mirror his own—
sacrificial, unconditional, transformative.
It's the fruit we're meant to bear,
the sweetness that proves our connection to the vine is not just alive but thriving.
In this living metaphor,
Jesus reveals a profound truth:
our vitality,
our very ability to flourish,
flows from him.
Apart from the vine, we wither.
Connected, we not only survive—
we thrive, bearing fruit that nourishes the world
and brings joy to the heart of the vinegrower.

What This Means for You

In the vineyard of your life,
where are your roots reaching?
Your connection to the true vine is a lifeline,
pumping God's grace through your veins.
Those moments of aliveness and fruitfulness?
That's you abiding in Christ.
Don't fear the dry seasons;
the vinegrower's shears are tools of love,
making room for new life.
Abiding in Christ is an active choice—
drawing strength from Him daily and allowing His life-giving sap to transform you.
Imagine seeing yourself as a true branch of the vine.
How would your interactions change if you recognized that divine life flowing through others?
This is the essence of Christ's command to love—
not a burden, but a natural outpouring.
Today, sink your roots deeper into Christ's love.
Abide in Him, for it's only when we're truly connected
that we find strength for life's storms,
nourishment to grow,
and the capacity to bear lasting fruit.

What This Means for Us

Friends, our church is not a collection of solitary vines,
but a community rooted in Christ's love.
Despite our struggles and decline,
we're called to be a living testament to the true vine's vitality.
Our collective fruitfulness reveals our source of nourishment.
In practice, this means creating spaces where all feel God's love,
extending compassion to those on the margins,
and fostering an environment where pruning leads to joyful growth.
We face challenges not as fragile twigs,
but as an interconnected network of faith.
Our strength lies in our collective connection to the true vine.
As we grow together, may our church be a vineyard abundant with the Spirit's fruit,
where all can taste and see the Lord's goodness.
Sermon written by Rev. Todd R. Lattig with the assistance of Perplexity AI. The poem included in this sermon was entirely written by Rev. Todd R. Lattig, with no AI used during the creative process.
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