Growing Stronger on the Vine

It’s a widely-held belief in the advertising industry that the long Christmas and New Year break offers people a great opportunity to make plans for their summer holidays.  In my case this year, it was more productive than many.  Instead of leaving things until the last moment, I’m all fixed up for a – hopefully sunny – week in July.  My mission is to lay one more ghost of the past, by re-visiting somewhere I went to many years ago with my now ex-wife.  It was, in fact, quite an enjoyable time, marred only by the fact that I was there on business, and it was actually she who did all the sightseeing!

Whilst musing on this aspect, I recalled a week I’d spent a few years ago with a Quaker family in Lincolnshire.  This was a more significant ghost-busting expedition, since it was somewhere else that the two of us had visited, this time during a rather tense episode of our life together, and I benefited greatly from the relaxation of being there years later on my own.  I recall sitting at my breakfast one sunny morning, looking through the open door to a great vine growing in the conservatory. 

Had it stood erect, the plant must have been a good eight feet from the pot to the tip of the topmost shoot, though this was hard to judge since it was tied across the metal rods that supported the roof.  If it were not suspended like that, the vine wouldn’t have been nearly so luxuriant; it would have got no taller than a foot or so above the pot, and then toppled, before perhaps being trodden underfoot.  

I wonder whether our lives are sometimes paralleled by the growth of such vines, straggling unadventurously, scarcely moving from the security of a humdrum routine, so long as we rely on our own efforts for development.  How much greater we can be if we are supported, if we are lashed to something firm, like that vine was to those roof stays.

Jesus used a vine as an illustration of his teaching (see chapter 15 of St. John’s Gospel).  Sadly there is an unwritten rule within our culture that says we should be able to stand on our own two feet, do everything for ourselves, and live independent lives.  We feel it’s a sign of weakness to admit that we can’t cope, that we need help, support or guidance.  

It’s a most selfish attitude, of course.  By kidding ourselves that we can be independent, we are not only reducing our own efficiency, but we’re denying someone the privilege of helping, of being the hands or feet of God in a situation for which they are particularly suited, and maybe called.  

To finish I’ll pass on a wise saying that (I now admit) always bears repetition.  Next time you have even the slightest doubt about your ability to manage something – be it family or business, major or trivial – remember to “Let go, and let God!”

C is for ... Beautiful?

From time to time over the years, I have taken great pleasure in listening to a particular song on the radio.  Sung by a group called Beautiful South, I believe it is called ‘Don’t marry her’.  The song is a sad tale of unrequited love.  The singer sees the object of her affections well on the path to marrying someone with whom, she is sure, he will quickly find happiness turning into boredom and frustration.

As I listened to it again recently, I realised, in three alliterative words, why I like this song.  It’s charming. A well-defined melody is matched by clear diction and smooth tonal qualities.  It’s catchy.  It took me ages to learn the words of the chorus, and I still have to concentrate really hard if I want to sing along with the record.  And it’s that chorus which provides my third ‘C-word’: “The Sunday sun shines down on San Francisco bay / And you realise you can’t make it anyway. / You have to clean the car, take the kiddies to the park. / Don’t marry her – have me!” 

The words provide a clear-cut message, spelling out the ‘plot’ of the ballad.  This other woman will quickly force the young man into a strict routine, affording him no freedom to enjoy life as we presume he does at present.  But this clear-cut message has a sting in the tail, as the singer contrasts ‘marry’ – presumably a permanent state, and possibly a blessed one – with ‘have’ – a régime of taking the pleasures of the present with no thought for the long-term.

On that occasion, two pieces of Scripture came to mind as I meditated on those words, and I invite you to look them up at your leisure and see if you agree about their relevance.  The first is Proverbs 5:3-12.  There is a definite tendency in twenty-first century, ‘post-modern’ life, whether in the specific matter of marriage or in other ways too, to look after the present, without a care for tomorrow.  It seems appropriate at harvest time to comment about sowing and reaping, and the obvious relation between them with regard to our lifestyles.  If we pay no attention to the longer term, to preparing ourselves for the future by following disciplines that we learn are not only wise but God-given, then we have only ourselves to blame when things turn sour.

And, finally, least we should think that there is any possibility of half-measures: of offering a nod of partial adherence to the lessons we find in the Old Testament, while still going our own way most of the time, I offer the simple statement that came to me at the same time, and is to be found at Matthew 12:30.

Suffice to say that, being now older and hopefully wiser through realising the potential lesson of the words, next time I hear this song, I shall content myself with the enjoyment of the music!