Can You Stop?
“Abide in me as I abide in you. Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me.”
John 15:4
I confess that of the four Gospels, John has historically been my least favorite. I like the first chapter and I’m good until around chapter 4 and the Samaritan woman, but then I get a bit lost in some of John’s more abstract ideas and wordiness. “Abide in me” is one such message that sometimes seems a bit difficult to comprehend, and I find myself wanting to ask, “Yes, but what does that mean?”
I think there is a reason for my misunderstanding and struggle with John’s account of Jesus’ teaching here. I think it’s because “to abide” is to live life a totally different way. It is to remain or stay or reside in something. It is not simply an action; it is to inhabit a relationship with God and adopt a different way of life: a life of work and rest, study and play, prayer and risk. To “abide in the vine” is so much more than something I need to do and a call to draw near to God in heart, mind and body.
So what does that look like?
Sometimes, it can be hard to stop in the morning. My impulse can be to jump out of bed and get rolling with no time to spare. There are things to do, people to call, sermons to prepare and I want to get on it.
Yet, what happens if I just stop and let myself be with God? If I put a five-minute timer on my phone, set it aside, and then sit and let five minutes just be what they are with no active prayers or agenda, I might notice my breathing, my heart rate. I might notice my thoughts and the things of the day that I don’t want to forget. I might notice my dogs staring at me from the floor, waiting for my next move. And as I notice these things, I accept them and recognize their presence.
In those few minutes that might feel wasted, I am learning to abide in God because I am letting go of my agenda, my will and my impulse to get rolling with the day ahead. I am peeking beneath the internal voice that tries to persuade me that there is too much to do and not enough time. And slowly, as I practice it again and again and again, I am finding another Voice that is deeper, whose will is generous and kind and who is showing me a different—more fruitful—way to live.
