Branches Connected to the Vine

April 28, 2024

Fifth Sunday of Easter

As she grew up, on almost every holiday, she was regaled by stories of how one of ancestors was a Native American. For a young girl in Michigan, this was exciting and romantic. She never forgot these stories and, as she grew up, she harbored them in her heart. There were no physical relics of this ancestor to share and identify who it was, or which tribe she might have been from.

When she discovered my interest in genealogy, she asked me to do some research to see if I could unearth a clue to her past. So, I dug in. I read books about how young indigenous girls (and boys) were sold to colonial men, who then married them and gave them white names. Apparently, St Anne's Church in Detroit continues to have these baptismal and marriage records. I was all set to plan a trip with her to the church to dig into her long-lost relative’s history. I was excited. Then I did a genealogy search of her family. With a single click, her entire family tree appeared on my screen. I kept going back further and further (somebody had really done their homework!). But the deeper I dug, the clearer it became; there was no one who was not European in her family tree.

I broke the news to her as gently as I could, but her disappointment could not be hidden. Her entire life had held a romantic dream of being at least a little Indigenous. We had a nice talk about other possibilities (servants who were like relatives, etc.) and of how this myth may have even started at all. In the end, we agreed that, while the facts were disappointing to her, because she had grown up with this hope in her heart, it had made her more open to empathize with the plight of Indigenous peoples throughout history. And she had begun to teach her children that same empathy. Maybe she did not have any indigenous DNA, but she still felt connected to native peoples.

Today’s Gospel tells a story that wine (and grape juice) lovers everywhere relate to. And while it’s fun to talk about the fruit of the vine, I also like to think about the whole plant. For example, the roots of a grape plant can extend up to 100 feet deep from the base of the plant. Although most of the root fibers are in the top three feet, or so, of the surface, those roots will die each year and re-grow the following season. The root system develops over time into a deeply connected mass of old wood that sends off new root branches. Think of what a grapevine plant looks like above ground – that is somewhat what an old grape plant looks like underground.

Jesus tells us that we are the branches connected to the vine. It is by growing healthy and producing fruit for God, that the vine-grower prunes and shapes the vines to produce even more fruit. But every horticulturist knows that if you ignore the roots, the top growth cannot survive. And so, we water the plants and pull the weeds and till the soil to create as healthy of an environment for the plant as we can. The entire plant is one creation. It cannot survive without being connected to the rest of the plant. Roots, stem, vine, branches, and fruit.

I like to think that our world is like a plant. There are my roots, my ancestors, be they European, African, Asian, Indigenous, Middle Eastern, or Hispanic. My roots go deep and wide and hold me up and give me an identity. Then there is the stem, rising up out of the ground. This is me today and as the stem continues to rise, vines grow out, and then branches form as well. These are my family members and my friends. Truly, all are a part of my plant. And when all is healthy and functions as it should, there is the fruit. From the fruit comes the seeds of the future. God made plants to work this way, and God made humanity to interact in this way. And God said it was good. Very Good.

As I tend the small garden of my personal world, I am reminded that we are all connected, with a shared DNA that makes us all members of the family of God. May I see everyone I meet as a connected part of me.

Every Day.

© 2024 by Timothy J. Doppel

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