Praised be Jesus and Mary, now and forever.
Christ is the true vine, and we are the branches. We are grafted onto this vine at the moment of baptism when sanctifying grace, that life-giving sap, runs into our souls, and by that supernatural, sanctifying grace, we are capable of bearing supernatural fruit for the glory of the Father.   Now, if we happen to commit a mortal sin, then what actually happens is we, the branch, are then broken so that the sap is no longer flowing into us, and we no longer have that supernatural life and cannot bear supernatural fruit. Now, that can be repaired by confession. Okay, that branch can be placed back and bound up, and once again begin to live. Thanks be to God in his great mercy. Or if the branch refuses to repent and change its ways, then the Father, at the end of this life, will remove it. And anyone who does not remain in me will be thrown out like a branch and wither. People will gather them and throw them into a fire, and they will be burned. So that refers to the final condemnation for those who die in the state of mortal sin.   In today's first reading from the Acts of the Apostles, we have Paul and Barnabas, they are zealous missionaries striving to bring all souls to be grafted onto Christ, the true vine. This goes for both Jews and Gentiles. But there was a debate that arose, no little dissension, because there were some who came down from Judea, probably associated with the Pharisees who converted to Christianity, and they were insisting that the Gentile converts needed to undergo circumcision and obey the Mosaic law. And so this was a debate that arose. And we can kind of understand that, right? I mean, circumcision had been around for 2,000 years. It was the external sign that marked you as belonging to the people of God. And now you are saying, “We don’t have to do that anymore?”  So we can kind of understand that things wouldn’t be clear, that there were probably good arguments to have the Gentile converts be circumcised. So, Paul and Barnabas, what do they do? They go up to Jerusalem to the apostles. They seek clarification. As they’re going up, they’re rejoicing at the Gentiles who converted, and they’re sharing this news with all the brethren. And this is what we read about in today’s Responsorial Psalm. I rejoiced because they said to me, “We will go up to the house of the Lord, and now we have set foot within your gates, O Jerusalem,” that heavenly Jerusalem, the church here on earth, built as a city with compact unity. So this is what it’s all about. Unity in the truth. And so they are going up because in it are set up judgment seats. The apostles, they are going to make the authoritative judgment on the matter, on whether these Gentile converts need to undergo circumcision or not. This is what is called the Council of Jerusalem, and it mirrors the purpose of ecumenical councils throughout the church’s history.
 Councils are moments when the church, under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, gathers to discern the truth, to clarify doctrine and disciplinary practices, and, like the divine vine grower, to prune away what might hinder the fruitfulness of the branches. But as history itself testifies, this pruning, this clarification of truth, is not always received with universal joy or immediate acceptance. The decision of the Council of Jerusalem, which was not to require circumcision of Gentile converts, while ultimately received with gladness by many, did not instantly silence every dissenting voice. That’s to be expected, too. That’s part of human nature, that not everyone would receive it, but there would be some who would continue to dissent against it. The Judaizing tendency, the insistence on the old ways as prerequisites for the new life in Christ, persisted. St. Paul’s letters, particularly to the Galatians, bear witness to this ongoing struggle to defend what Peter and the apostles, with the assistance of the Holy Spirit, had decided. In fact, that little faction remained up to the times of St. Augustine, the Ebionites, they were called, who still insisted on circumcision.
 And so it has been with many of the great councils. When the Church defined the divinity of Christ at Nicaea in 325, we celebrate the 1700th anniversary this year, and Pope Leo is going to participate in a celebratory gathering for that. Arianism, which opposed that decision, did not simply vanish. When Chalcedon in 451 articulated the two natures and the one person of Christ, some could not accept this formulation, leading to painful and lasting separations. Even in more recent times, the teachings of ecumenical councils, while guided by the Spirit for the good of the Church, have sometimes been met with resistance, misunderstanding, or the formation of groups who choose a different path. This is what we see throughout the history of the Church. And why is it? Perhaps because it can demand that we let go of cherished but incomplete notions. Pruning, by its very nature, involves cutting.   It can be painful for the branch that feels the knife, even if the vinedresser’s intention is for the greater life and fruit of the Church. Human understanding is limited. The Judaizers had great arguments to circumcise the Gentiles, but it wasn’t the will of the Holy Spirit. Sometimes there’s pride or fear or an attachment to one’s own interpretation, which can make it difficult to accept the Church’s discernment. What, then, does this complex reality teach us, who are called to be faithful branches on the true vine today?
 First, it calls to humility. The quest for understanding God’s revelation is a journey, both for individuals and for the Church as a whole. We must approach the teachings and disciplines of the Church with the spirit of humility and a willingness to be taught, trusting in Christ’s promise to guide his Church into all truth through the Holy Spirit. That’s what our Lord said to the apostles, “There is much I have to tell you, but you cannot bear it now. The Spirit of truth will lead you into all truth.”  Second, it underscores the absolute necessity of abiding in Christ, the true vine, through His Church. Despite the historical storms and the human weaknesses that are part of the story of the Church, the Church remains the privileged place where Christ communicates his life to us, that life-giving sap. Our fidelity is to Christ, and that fidelity is lived out in communion with the Church he founded, the Church for which the apostles in Jerusalem labored and made difficult decisions, decisions that would not be popular with everyone.  Third, the memory of past divisions and the awareness of present ones should ignite in us fervent prayer and longing for Christian unity. If the dissension in Acts pained the early believers, how much more should the divisions among Christians today grieve us? We must pray as Christ himself prayed, that they may all be one, so that the world may believe.  Fourth, it reminds us that our primary task is to bear fruit. The controversies and complexities of history and present difficulties should not paralyze us. Our call is to live a life so deeply connected to Christ that his love, joy, peace, patience, and kindness, the fruits of the Spirit, flow through us. This fruitfulness is the best witness to the life-giving power of the vine.   So let us cling to Christ, the true vine, trust in the Spirit’s guidance of his Church, and dedicate ourselves to being faithful, fruitful branches for the glory of God the Father. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.