Lessons from the Muscadine Vine
Untangling Attachments and Finding Balance in the Unforced Rhythms of Grace
“Only by taking our life apart from time to time and examining it carefully, and then putting it back together thoughtfully and prayerfully, only then can we begin to have some measure of confidence that we are living the life we were meant to lead.”
Robert Benson
I handed our muscadine vines over to the birds this summer. Because water was scarce, and they needed that moisture rich food more than we did. The only problem was that when I did this, I moved the vines out of the attention-getting part of my brain, because it’s cluttered there, and space is limited, and then I forgot to retrieve them when the time came to remember them again.
If you ask the old folks in town, they will tell you that muscadine vines should be pruned between Thanksgiving and Christmas. In a normal year this timing aligns with wreath making season, so I strip the excess vines right on schedule and then use them to build the bases of my wreaths.
But this year, like the birds, our evergreens barely made it out of the South’s four-month stint in Sheol alive. Growth was limited, cuttings were slim, few wreaths could be made, and the vines remained in my brain’s back-room storage facility.
Until this week when I went out with my shears to untangle the mess of overgrowth born on behalf of my inattention.
One of the most interesting things that I’ve learned about grape vines relates to their tendrils, which begin as pliable green strands used by the branches to locate and then anchor to a support. When a tendril makes contact with another physical thing it stimulates a mechanical response, triggering the formation of a coil around the support which then hardens once that connection is secure.
This innate response enables the vine and the branches to maintain a stable connection through the support. Which is great. But at the same time, this can also cause the branches to form a connection with other things, such as neighboring shrubs and fences. Stuff that leads the branch away from the vine, creating instability and imbalance instead. And, as the branches continue to grow, tendrils that are attached to the support can also become restrictive, hindering growth and even cutting into the branch itself. Which is why routine tending of grape vines is so important. Because after you remove the access growth and old branches, you come back through and survey the attachments, making sure that they are connected to the right thing, that they are loose and pliable, and then removing any that have become restrictive, rigid, or tight.
And Lent is a good time to undergo a similar process ourselves. It’s a season that invites us to bring stuff that we may have forgotten amidst the chaos of cluttered days back to the forefront of our attention. Lent hands us a pair of shears and invites us to cut back the overgrowth of a year gone by. And Lent compels us to ask questions about our attachments.
Questions like, what am I attached to, exactly? And why?
And do my attachments connect me to things that support my connection with Christ, the vine? Or do they support my connection to something or someone else instead?
And even with those coils that have provided support in our life in Christ in the past, are they still pliable and loose enough to facilitate ongoing growth and freedom moving forward? Or have they become restrictive or rigid somehow?
There is a balance in the rhythm of discipleship that can be hard to find. It’s the point of equilibrium where we are appropriately challenged and held accountable in our attempts to follow Jesus deeper into his Kingdom, and also a place where the burden is light. Its where we have found and committed ourselves to the life giving, and life shaping, influence of a good and solid rule of living, one comprised of practices that provide support as we seek Christ, and yet also where our relationship to those practices remains pliable and yields the kind of freedom necessary for ongoing growth and vitality.
Jesus’ own words on this are so beautifully translated by Eugene Peterson in The Message where he asks his followers,
“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me – watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythm of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”
Matthew 11:28-30 MSG
Practice:
In the week ahead, consider taking an inventory of your habits and the practices that currently give support and structure to your day.
How do you spend your time? Keep a journal and note the various things that you do throughout the day.
At the end of the week take note of the attachments associated with each activity.
Which habits, commitments, and practices support your life with Jesus?
Pray about these connections and ask God to reveal the lightness or restrictiveness of each, asking if there are any that may need to be cut back or removed for a season in order to restore pliability and create room for growth. You might get a little closer to answering this by considering words that come to mind when you think about each. And then pray more about what might be implied by your heart through those descriptions.
Which habits, commitments, and practices might support your connection to something or someone else?
Can you name or identify what that someone or something is? What do you want when you engage with them? What does it produce in you as a result?
Pray about these connections and ask God to illuminate where there are unhelpful attachments that need to be redirected or removed and then ask for help from God in taking the first steps towards doing that.
I love the lessons the master teaches you through his created world. Thanks for writing and sharing this. I know your book will be a treasure one day.