Pruning to Bear Fruit

We have a peach tree in our yard. At least, we think it’s a peach tree. Late last summer, it bore a very peculiar, shriveled, sour-tasting fruit-like substance that we placed somewhere in the peach family. It seems that the previous owners were not much in to pruning, so the tree became rather unfocused in its growth. Dozens of little branches here and there; undisciplined growth all over the place; and no fruit—at least not the kind of fruit worth eating.

 

We were told by a friend who knows about these things that when you have an overgrown fruit tree, you need to really pare it back. This is short-term loss, but long-term gain. If you do it right, the tree won’t be ready to bear good fruit the first year (nor will it even look pretty), but in the second year, the tree’s energies will no longer be diluted, and its growth should result in sweet, delicious fruit. Peach cobbler. Peach pie. Peach jam. Mmm.

 

So Saturday morning I took out the chainsaw and started hacking away. I lopped off limb after unfruitful limb. It was satisfying. When I was done, it seemed that three trees worth of limbs had been cut down. Somehow, all the branches had come down from this one little tree. I had thought it would take 3 minutes. But pruning it well had been a more involved procedure than I had thought. Yes, I enjoyed the violence of it—but all the more because it was constructive violence.

 

Yes, I am a little worried that my pruning was too extreme. I may have gotten carried away. We’ll know for sure next year. The proof is in the peaches, so to speak. During my pruning, Jesus’ words in John 15 seemed especially fresh and relevant:

 

I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful.” (John 15:1-2)

 

Some Lessons Learned from Actually Pruning a Fruit Tree

 

1. Showy fruitlessness is worthless. Bearing fruit is the point! Not all growth is good growth. What good is a peach tree that doesn’t bear peaches? Not much. This tree did have a lot of growth, but it wasn’t the right kind. It was undisciplined, unintentional—and unfruitful. It was darn near losing the right to be called a peach tree. Showy fruitlessness is why Jesus condemned the fig tree in Mark 11:12-14.

 

2. Pruning is short-term loss, long-term gain. The same morning I pruned the tree, I had breakfast with a mentor. He not-so-coincidentally brought up John 15, and he said that a recent pruning season in his life “put me on the bench for three months.” But he spoke with commingled joy and sorrow about it, because he was in a much better place now. The pruning had done its work.

 

3. Pruning is constructive violence. It takes things we may think are important, even essential, and hacks them off. After years of unfruitful “growth,” it may take a chainsaw! It may be painful. But it will be for ours—and others’—good.

 

4. Jesus is the Vine and God the Father is the Good Vinedresser. He knows what he’s doing.  His pruning (unlike mine) will always result in greater fruitfulness. He is wise and we can trust him.