Connected to the Vine

By Paul Roberts

Hard to believe it is September already. Cooler nights have been welcome, my lawn is greening up after heat stress, and my first year grape vine is getting more interesting by the day. Just in time for some comments about the Creator Connection.

I’m still struck by the idea that, even though we separate out each one of the five tools in our Grow Me A Story toolkit, giving each one its own emphasis, they are really all part of the same vine.

 “Live in me. Make your home in me just as I do in you. In the same way that a branch can’t bear grapes by itself but only by being joined to the vine, you can’t bear fruit unless you are joined with me. I am the Vine, you are the branches. When you’re joined with me and I with you, the relation intimate and organic, the harvest is sure to be abundant.” (The Gospel of John, Chapter 15: 4,5; the Message version)

I often feel like a rookie when it comes to some of this gardening stuff. When Carol brought home a grape vine for our garden last fall, I felt a bit intimidated by the thought of growing grapes like my Grandpa Evert Roberts used to. I can picture his vines, heavy with fruit, growing along the fence bordering the alley at his home in Meridian a block from the church. In the years that Carol and I lived in Meridian, there were several times that we harvested some of his sweet, purple grapes.

Apparently, in spite of my lack of expertise, I did something right in selecting a spot for the pencil thick, 16 inch plant last fall. It now stands over three foot tall, with several vines reaching skyward, seeking out the September sun. In addition to this precocious growth, there are two clusters of green grapes, waiting for the right moment for me to harvest them. It must be good rootstock. It must have a close connection to the Creator.

I find myself curious about the connections my grapevine has to other vines. Somewhere in its not too distant past, there is a healthy, strong, vibrant grapevine, heavy with delicious, sweet fruit. Somewhere, there was, or is, a wise vinedresser, who expertly pruned and cared for the mother vine of my vine, leading to my fortunate harvest now.

The mother vine. I’m pretty sure I had never heard that phrase before, but the concept crept into my consciousness this morning, and I was thrilled to discover that it didn’t originate with me.  The Mother Vine, located on North Carolina’s Roanoke Island, is estimated to be 400 years old, which would make it the oldest grape vine in all of North America. Producing scuppernong grapes, North Carolina’s state fruit (The Idaho state fruit? You got it…the huckleberry), it is assumed to have been planted by either Croatan Native Americans or settlers of the Lost Colony.

My grapes are not scuppernongs. They come from different rootstock. Nevertheless, they are part of a community, a family of grapevines stretching back…how long? I find myself in awe just thinking about it.

My grapevine’s life story is intertwined with all the grapevines, scuppernongs or not, that came before it, and can never be separated from them.

My life story is intertwined with all the communities of people, Roberts’ or not, that came before them, and can never be separated from them. Community, creative community, is that vital to who I am.

And stretching further back than that is the concept of the Creator, a creator that desires a connection with me. The Creator connection is that vital to who I am. I cultivate that connection by sowing seed, fertilized by creative outings (rendezvous and awareness time), by reaching out to the members of our small creative community, and sharing time with them and the Creator.

Thanks for taking the time to intentionally join us in growing the creative community in our world.

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How have you intentionally connected with the concept of the Creator in the last year?

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