Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing. (ESV)

I was recently on a flight back to Anchorage. It was one of the newer Alaska Airlines planes, which meant this night-time flight was going to be decently comfortable, and as people are boarding, I realize I might have the entire row, on both sides, to myself. God is good.

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Boarding had closed, or so I think, when a tall man begins walking down the aisle. He throws his bag into the overhead bin right away, but he keeps walking and lands in the aisle seat next to me. God is good, and God is funny.

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He has a heavy Irish accent and seemed to have had a heavy dose of alcohol before boarding the plane. The flight attendant comes to check on him, and me, I think––she gives me a long glance before walking away once he is settled.

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If someone must sit next to me on that flight, the Irishman is a lucky draw. He is funny, kind, and happy. He tells me all about his vacation (or “holiday,” I should say) and introduces me to a few of his friends on FaceTime, much to the flight attendant’s dismay.

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He eventually cocks his head and asks me, “What do you do for work in Alaska?” When I tell him that I work at a church, he exclaims, “Church!” Then he pauses…for a while. I wonder if that is all he is going to say.

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“My family does church,” he finally says. “Everybody gets baptized and christened or whatever.” I’m not always a direct person, so my next question surprises me, and him: “Does your family do that as a ritual, or because it actually matters to them?”

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I say all of this because my interaction with this drunk Irishman was entertaining, for one, but also because I could tell he was searching for more. He believed in God, and it seemed as though he had this gut feeling that there was more than his family was recognizing.

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This conversation was also a stark reminder that to many, many people, life with Jesus is not life at all but is a series of rituals and “standing up and sitting down at church,” as the Irishman put it.  

But abiding, as Jesus asks and invites us to do in John 15, invites us into a completely different reality. When you simply “believe” in God, baptism can feel like a ceremony. When you abide in God, baptism feels like freedom. When you simply “believe” in God, standing up and sitting down can feel pointless. When you abide in God, you’re already on your knees because of his presence, and there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

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Jesus doesn’t want a passive relationship with you—he wants something real. Something meaningful. Something life changing. He wants to abide. And in today’s verse, he exposes the reality that people are settling for less: "Apart from me you can do nothing,” he says. When you read this, how do you imagine Jesus saying it? Do you imagine a cocky laugh? A hint of anger? A tone of desperation? Does he say this to make us feel bad about ourselves? Does he say this to brag?

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When I read “Apart from me you can do nothing,” I nearly break down in tears. Jesus doesn’t say this to put me down, he says this to save me. He reminds me that I am an eternal being who needs to be connected to the source of life. He reminds me that he wants not only good things, but the best things for me. He reminds me that I have a choice, and he wants me to choose a life with him, a life with fruit of the truth.

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So many people settle for the rituals of religion instead of walking toward a real relationship with the Savior. The Irishman knew there was more than what he had experienced in his family, and he’s right. There is more. Jesus says, “Whoever abides in me...bears much fruit.” But the whole line includes, “Whoever abides in me and I in him.” Jesus wants not only for you to be with him––he wants to be with you. I fear we get so focused on the idea that God wants us to choose him (his life, his goodness, his peace...) that we forget he first chose us.

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The God of the universe desires to be intimately connected with you.

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So where are you holding back? Where do you need to let God in to let him abide? Where do you need to accept his love and authority? Where do you need to hold him close and truly hear...I choose you?

Lord, I pray for a blessing of freedom. You are good, you are holy, and you are righteous, and God I ask that you open my eyes further to know you. Continue to increase my desire to abide in you, Father, as you desire to abide in me. Show me what it truly means to abide––I want nothing less. In your powerful, holy name, Amen.