Articles

God’s Pruning and the Branches

Geoff Chang September 9, 2024

By the summer of 1856, C. H. Spurgeon’s ministry was bearing so much fruit. Church membership was growing. People were being converted under his preaching. Young men were being trained for the ministry. Sermons were being sold by the thousands. And yet all would seemingly come to an end in the Surrey Gardens Music Hall Disaster. On the night of October 19, 1856, with the hall filled to capacity with 10,000 people, shouts of “Fire!” resulted in a stampede, and in the end, seven people died and many more were injured. As a result, Spurgeon fell into a deep depression and no one knew if he would ever preach again.

“His ministry was going so well! He was being so fruitful! Why would God let something like this happen?” We don’t know all the answers. But we have Jesus’ words,

John 15:2 Every branch in me that does not bear fruit he takes away, and every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, that it may bear more fruit.

We typically expect that God rewards those who are fruitful and afflicts those who are unfaithful. But as it turns out, that’s not always how God operates. Affliction is sometimes a result of faithfulness, not for our harm, but for our greater fruitfulness. This is what we see in the lives of Job, David, Daniel, and all the other saints. How much more should we expect this in our lives today?

On October 6, 1867, Spurgeon preached on this passage at the Metropolitan Tabernacle. In that sermon, he gives four reasons, why God the Vinedresser, prunes his branches.

Because we are not yet perfect

Spurgeon says this,

If they were perfect, they would not need pruning; but the fact is there is much of original inbred sin remaining in the best of God’s people, so that whenever the sap within them is strong for the production of fruit, there is a tendency for that strength to turn into evil, and instead of good fruit evil is produced… The fact is, it is very difficult to keep ourselves, when we are in a flourishing state, from producing wood instead of grapes. God grant us grace to keep us from this evil; and I do not know how the grace can come except by his judicious pruning. I say the fruit-bearing branches are not perfect because they bear a great deal that is not fruit, and, moreover, not one of them bears as much fruit as it ought to do.

Yes, you may have some fruitfulness. God has blessed you, He has gifted you, He has given you resources, and insofar as you are sanctified, you will take those talents and use them for good. But, there is also still indwelling sin in you. So often, you can also take those talents and resources and produce what is not fruit. And it’s those wooden shoots, those fruitless stems that need to be pruned.

We have to be careful here. We can’t always read God’s providence, and we should not always try to connect a particular affliction with a particular sin. And yet, there can be a place for self-examination. Spurgeon gives this advice,

It can never be superfluous to humble ourselves and institute self-examination, for even if we walk in our integrity and can lift up our face without shame in this matter, as to actual sin, yet our shortcomings and omissions must cause us to blush. How much holier we ought to have been, and might have been! How much more prevalently we might have prayed! With how much more of unction we might have preached! Here is endless room for tender confession before the Lord.

The idea here is not so much that we are connecting specific sins to specific suffering, but if you encounter hardship, use that time for reflection, for self-examination. This could very well be God’s pruning. We are not yet perfect, so there is always room for us to humble ourselves and consider how we can grow before God.

God is a skillful Vinedresser. We are so easily impressed by our own fruitfulness. But He does not measure our fruitfulness according to our abilities but according to the power of the True Vine. He is conforming us to the image of Christ. And so, there is still much to prune.

Because God loves us

How easy it is to see our suffering as the result of God’s wrath! But Spurgeon writes,

You have no right to say, when a man is afflicted, that it is because he has done wrong; on the contrary, “every branch that bears fruit he prunes.” Only the branch that is good for something gets the pruning knife. Do not say of yourselves, or of other people, “That man must have been a great offender, or he would not have met with such a judgment.” Nonsense, who was a holier man than Job; but who was brought lower than he? Why, the fact is, it is because the Lord loves his people that he chastens them, not because of any anger that he hath towards them. But learn, beloved, especially you under trial, not to see an angry God in your pains or your losses, or your crosses; but instead thereof, see a husbandman, who thinks you a branch whom he estimates at so great a rate, that he will take the trouble to prune you, which he would not do if he had not a kind consideration towards you.

This is so important. If we are going to bear up under afflictions, we have to believe that 1) God is in control and 2) that God loves us. This trial we’re going through, it’s not an accident, it’s not without meaning, but even as painful as it is, God has good purposes for us in this suffering, he is pruning us in love. This must be the case for those of us who are in Christ. Spurgeon says,

The object in this pruning is never condemnatory. God does not purge his children with a view to visit them penally for sin; he chastises, but he cannot punish those for whom Jesus Christ has been already punished.

It’s so easy to forget this when we’re suffering. Pain has this way of condemning us, reminding us of all that we’ve done wrong. Even as we examine ourselves, we can’t forget also to preach the gospel to ourselves. This pruning is not punitive, because “God cannot punish those for whom Jesus Christ has already been punished.” It’s not condemnatory, because there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.

Spurgeon says this,

Just now, when anguish fills the heart, and the spirits are bruised with sore pain and travail, it is not the best season for forming a candid judgment of our own condition, or of anything else; let the judging faculty lie by, and let us with tears of loving confession throw ourselves upon our Father’s bosom, and looking up into his face believe that he loves us with all his infinite heart. “Though he slay me yet will I trust in him,”

So yes, pruning can be a good time for self-examination. But not always. There may be some seasons of pain, when you will be so confused that it will be quite okay for you just to say, “I have no idea why this happened; I don’t understand what God is doing; But the bottom line is that I know Jesus loves me. Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him.” And in those moments, what you need most of all is just rest in the gospel assurance of God’s love. And this perhaps is the best thing of all for us.

To prepare the way for the Word

How does God prune? This is an important question. Spurgeon says this,

It is generally said [that God prunes] by affliction…  that our trials and troubles purge us; I am not sure of that, they certainly are lost upon some. Our Lord tells us what it is that prunes us. “Now,” saith he, in the third verse of the chapter, “you are clean (or pruned) through the word which I have spoken unto you.” It is the Word that prunes the Christian, it is the truth that purges him, the Scripture, made living and powerful by the Holy Spirit, effectually cleanses the Christian.

“What then does affliction do?” say you. Well, if I may say so, affliction is the handle of the knife; affliction is the grindstone that sharpens up the word; affliction is the dresser which removes our soft garments, and lays bare the diseased flesh, so that the surgeon’s lancet may get at it; affliction makes us ready to feel the word, but the true pruner is the word in the hand of the Great Husbandman.

So let’s be clear. Suffering and afflictions by themselves do not sanctify. For so many people, suffering only embitters them and leaves them in despair. But the way God uses suffering in the life of a Christian is that suffering humbles us. And it makes us much more ready to hear and receive God’s promises. Suffering makes way for the Word of God to do its work in us, by the Spirit.

Sometimes when you lay stretched upon the bed of sickness, you think more upon the word than you did before, that is one great thing. In the next place, you see more the applicability of that word to yourself. In the third place, the Holy Spirit makes you feel more… the force of the word than you did before. Ask that affliction may be sanctified, beloved, but always remember there is no more tendency in affliction in itself to sanctify us… It is the word coming to us while in affliction that purges us; it is God the Holy Ghost laying home divine truth, and applying the blood of Jesus, and working in all his divine energy in the soul; it is this that prunes us.

It’s when we are stripped of our earthly pride and our earthly comforts … it’s when we finally see how flimsy and fleeting these earthly securities are, that we then turn to the One who never changes, the One Who speaks to us a better Word, in the Lord Jesus Christ.

So friend, don’t waste your suffering! Amid your difficulties, make sure you are abiding in Christ by having his word abide in you. You may very well find these times of pruning to be filled with new insights and understanding of God’s Word.

So don’t let the purpose of the pruning pass you by. When suffering comes, don’t just buckle down, and soldier on in your own strength. No, reflect on it through the lens of God’s Word. Meditate on God’s Word. Pray. Abide in Christ.

So many pastors, being the spiritual, resourceful leaders that they are, often find themselves very alone as they encounter suffering. I’m grateful for pastoral networks and fellowships like this. Because sometimes, in suffering, we need others to speak the truth to us. God can use our own private study, but sometimes He will use His Word spoken by a friend to help us. Do you have relationships with other leaders in your church and with other pastors nearby, so that when you encounter suffering, there are others who can speak the Word of God to you? Sometimes in the midst of suffering it’s hard to think on God’s Word. That’s when we need brothers and sisters around us to walk with us, to bear our pain with us, and to gently point us to the truth. That’s true for church leaders too.

But in the end, it is God’s Word that brings hope, that brings fruit from the painful pruning that we experience.

As I said earlier, Spurgeon fell into a deep depression after the Music Hall disaster. For weeks, he was unable to preach. And as he heard the criticisms, as he replayed the events of that night, as he pondered the deaths that had happened, all kinds doubts and questions tormented him. “Was this all my fault?” “Have I been self-deceived about my ministry? Has all this been for my vanity? Could we have done something different?” The questions rolled on and on, and he had no answers. He could only weep. He tried thinking on God’s Word, on the attributes of God, on the love and sovereignty of God, but none of those thoughts brought any relief.

What was it that finally lifted him out of his despair? On Nov. 2, 1856, Spurgeon returned to the pulpit. And this is what he said,

The text I have selected is one that has comforted me, and in a great measure, enabled me to come here today—the single reflection upon it had such a power of comfort on my depressed spirit. It is this—“Therefore God also hath highly exalted him, and given him a name which is above every name: That at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in heaven, and things in earth, and things under the earth; And that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.”—Philippians 2:9–11.

in the midst of calamities, whether they be the wreck of nations, the crash of empires, the heaving of revolutions, or the scourge of war, the great question which the Christian asks himself, and asks of others too, is this—Is Christ’s kingdom safe? In his own personal afflictions, his chief anxiety is—Will God be glorified, and will his honor be increased by it? If it be so, says he, although I be but as smoking flax, yet if the sun is not dimmed I will rejoice…It matters not what shall become of us: God has highly exalted him, and given him a name which is above every name; That at the name of Jesus every knee should bow.

Well, it was the vision of the rise and exalted Christ that gave him hope and enabled Spurgeon to return to the pulpit. And he would go on to preach for another 35 years. The scars of that night would never leave him. He would always struggle with a kind of PTSD whenever memories of that night would come back. God’s pruning can leave deep scars.

But even more, this vision of the risen, exalted Christ would strengthen him for the rest of his life. No matter what happens to us, Christ’s kingdom is safe. God has given him a name which is above every name. And so, we also are safe and can endure.

So we can bear more fruit

This is what we see in the text. The purpose of the Vinedresser is that we would bear more fruit for His glory. Spurgeon puts it this way,

The real reason is that more fruit may be produced; which I understand to mean more in quantity. A good man, who feels the power of the word pruning him of this and that superfluity, sets to work, in the power of the Holy Ghost, to do more for Jesus. Before he was afflicted he did not know how to be patient. He learns it at last—a hard lesson. Before he was poor he did not know how to be humble, but he learns that. Before the word came with power he did not know how to pray with his fellows, or to speak to sinners, or lay himself out for usefulness; but the more he is pruned, the more he serves his Lord.

More fruit in variety too, may be intended. One tree can only produce one kind of fruit usually, but the Lord’s people can produce many, as we have already seen; and the more they are pruned the more they will produce. There will be all kinds of fruits, both new and old, which they will lay up for their beloved.

There will be more in quality, too. The man may not pray more, but he will pray more earnestly; he may not preach more sermons, but he will preach them more thoroughly from his heart, with a greater unction. It may be that he will not be more in communion with God as to time, but it will be a closer communion; he will throw himself more thoroughly into the divine element of communion, and will become more hearty in all that he does.

What was the secret to Spurgeon’s preaching and ministry? Certainly, the gospel. Spurgeon would emphasize this. The gospel is the power of salvation for everyone who believes.

And certainly, prayer is the engine of the church.

But if I may suggest another “secret” to Spurgeon’s ministry: I think it was his suffering. Suffering opened the way for God’s Word to land in his heart in a powerful way, and equipped him to speak God’s Word to others.

If you ever have a chance to visit the Spurgeon Library in Kansas City, one of the things you’ll notice are the nine large paintings that line the walls of the Library. They tell to story of Spurgeon’s conversion, his baptism, his amazing preaching ministry, his marriage, his orphanage and church and pastors’ college. In all this Spurgeon, may appear to be some kind of pastoral superman. But such an impression would be wrong.

Spurgeon did not soar through his 40+ years of ministry. Rather, he mostly limped. The final painting in the room attempts to tell that story. There, Spurgeon is only in his 50s, but the pressures of ministry and illness have so aged him that he looks like he is in his 60s. He’s supporting himself with a cane due to his gout. Rather than being in London, he is convalescing in Mentone, France, where he would regularly need to escape during winter months to try to recover his health. This painting is a reminder that suffering wasn’t just a component of Spurgeon’s life. Rather, it was the cloud that hung over all his labors and accomplishments.

The pressure and overwork of all that was going on would quickly catch up with him. In the fall of 1858, Spurgeon once again found himself seriously ill and unable to preach for three consecutive Sundays. On his first Sunday back, he had to be carried up to the pulpit to preach. Clearly, he was not fully recovered.

For the rest of his life, the combination of overwork and illness would become a pattern in his ministry. His doctors attributed his illness to kidney disease, which led to other painful ailments like gout and rheumatism. A friend once asked him what gout was like. Spurgeon responded, “If you put your hand into a vice and let a man press as hard as he can, that is rheumatism; and if he can be got to press a little harder, that is gout.”  Gout would often lay him out, bringing sharp pain to his hands, feet, joints, lower back, muscles, and legs. At other times, he dealt with nerve pain, seizures, smallpox, sciatica, and other afflictions. As a preacher, Spurgeon carried all these ailments into the pulpit with him. For many weeks, his congregation received a visual sermon on suffering and perseverance as they watched their pastor struggle up the steps to the pulpit and preach through pain.

But Spurgeon’s suffering was not limited to physical pain. Rather, the physical suffering often brought with it deep emotional pain. Doctors today might very well diagnose him with depression. But Spurgeon’s experience of depression had a spiritual component to it. Amid his many illnesses, he often wrestled with doubts and fears. He once shared,

I find that when I am in good physical health, I am not often tempted of Satan to despondency or doubt; but whenever I get depressed in spirit, or the liver is out of order, or the head aches, then comes the hissing serpent, “God has forsaken you, you are no child of God, you are unfaithful to your Master, yea have no part in the blood of sprinkling,” and such-like things. You old rascal! If you say as much as that to me in my days of health, when my blood is leaping in my veins, I shall be more than a match for you; but to meet me just then, when you understand that I am weak, ay! This is like you, Satan.

Often, when battling illness, he wondered if he would ever be able to preach again. He feared becoming useless, a burden rather than a help. He could imagine his congregation suffering, the orphanage collapsing, and the college dissolving. All these anxieties only compounded his physical suffering with emotional dread and discouragement, leading to more physical weakness.  In his illness, he sometimes found himself in a dangerous spiral.

This was the backdrop to Spurgeon’s pastoral ministry. And this is what equipped him to be such an effective minister of God’s Word. As Paul writes in 2 Corinthians.

2Cor. 1:3   Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, 4 who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.

Today, when you read Spurgeon’s sermons, this is what you encounter. You encounter the teaching of a brother in Christ who has walked through dark valleys, and who experienced God’s faithfulness in those valleys. And now, he is ready to share that comfort with others.

Brothers and sisters, and especially pastors, don’t be surprised by suffering. If you want to be fruitful, God may very well bring affliction to help you learn those lessons that we are so slow to learn. We certainly have to be careful in trying to read God’s hand. We can’t always connect this particular suffering with this particular outcome. But in God’s design, this is how He loves his ministers, and this is how He loves his church: by pruning them and making them fruitful.

Spurgeon once said to his students,

Sickness has frequently been of more use to the saints of God than health has. If some men, that I know of, could only be favored with a month of rheumatism, it would, by God’s grace, mellow them marvellously. Assuredly, they need something better to preach than what they now give their people; and, possibly, they would learn it in the chamber of suffering.

Well, I think Spurgeon spoke from experience. I don’t mean by any of this that we need to go looking for suffering. The idea here is not that we would prune ourselves. Certainly, there is suffering enough all around us, and there is plenty all around us to keep us humble and keep our hearts soft to the truth of God’s Word.

Conclusion

Jesus concludes all this with this amazing promise:

By this my Father is glorified, that you bear much fruit and so prove to be my disciples.

Friends, how amazing, that we who once were wild branches, producing only poison and death, have been grafted into Christ, the True Vine, so that now, we can bear fruit that glorifies the Father, that shows to the watching world the glory and majesty and goodness and love of our heavenly Father. This is what we are to be about in this life, and this is what we will be about for all of eternity.

This is the result of the pruning which our heavenly Father gives; and if such be the result, [May] the Lord keep on pruning. For what greater blessing can a man have than to produce much fruit for God? Better to serve God much than to become a prince. He that does much for Christ, shall shine as the stars for ever and ever. He is good in God; he is blessing his fellow men; he is bringing joy into his own spirit. Oh, if on bended knee we might seek but one favor, methinks we would not ask the wisdom which Solomon craved; we would petition for this, that we might bring forth much fruit, that so we might be Christ’s disciples.


This article is adapted from a talk given at the Southeast Kansas Baptist Association Pastors’ Conference in August 2024.