Wednesday, September 4, 2013

There's Nothing Like a Fresh Tomato from the Garden

I'm not much of a gardener.  But I try, a little.  Mostly, I try tomatoes.

This may be because my mom always planted tomatoes.  She didn't plant anything else.  She grew up on a farm, and her own mother had a huge and impressive garden.  My mom wasn't in favor of the time a large garden would involve.  But she did always plant one tomato plant.

Because, you know, there's nothing like a fresh tomato from the garden.

This was a truth that my mother impressed upon me at a young age.  There is nothing like a fresh tomato from the garden.  So I try to plant a tomato plant or two.

I have tried a few other crops.  My dad and I planted a few hills of cucumbers one summer many years ago.  We were surprisingly successful.  I tried it in my large backyard in rural South Dakota on summer and all of the cucumbers were misshapen.  They were not too tasty either.  My one successful crop in South Dakota was carrots.  I planted peas and got a few good ones.  I planted three times as many the next year; rabbits ate them all.  I judged the success of my carrot crop by the fact that my niece and nephew (about four and five at the time) ate them.  Whenever they had carrots, they would ask my mom, "Are these Diane's carrots?"  If the answer was yes, they would eat them.

So, since returning to the Big City, my gardening goals are much lower.  I plant basil, not because I know too much what to do about it, but because anyone can grow basil, and it makes me feel good about myself.  And, on occasion, I try to plant a tomato plant.  Not every year.

This year I felt especially ambitious, and I planted two plants:  one cherry tomato bush, and the other a larger variety.  I did not pay much attention at the time.  And in our rainy spring and early summer, the bushes exploded.  They were bigger than any tomato plant I had ever seen in recent memory!  They took over the back yard and covered up a beautiful, new rose bush we had planted last fall.  One of the plants, I thought, was almost as tall as I was.

I had mixed feelings about this.  I wanted good fruit, but I also wanted something manageable, not so wild-looking.

Then it was August, and everyone was talking about harvesting tomatoes.  And my tomatoes, on those huge, impressive plants, my tomatoes were the deepest of deep green.  Some of my friends comforted me, saying, "Our tomatoes are still green too," and that worked for awhile, until they started saying, "um, sorry, now our tomatoes are nice and red."

But every day I would go out and take a look.  And very early every morning I would go out and water those tomatoes.  I desperately wanted them to turn red, so I could taste them.

Because, you know, there's nothing like a fresh tomato from the garden.

In the meantime,  a couple of people shared their harvest with me.  They knew how much I wanted to taste that goodness.  They knew I was waiting.

There's nothing like a fresh tomato from the garden.

In John 15, Jesus says to his disciples,  "You did not choose me, but I chose you.  And I appointed you to go and bear fruit, fruit that will last."

Imagine that.  What God wants from us is to bear fruit.  The work of discipleship is the work of bearing fruit.  Go and bear fruit, Jesus says to us, while our lives are still green, but we hope they will turn red.  Go and bear fruit, he says, when the snow is late in leaving, or the heat is overwhelming, or it is too cool to grow things, or when it is dry.

God wants our lives to bear fruit.  And not only that, God promises that our lives will be fruit.  Standing out there, watering those gosh-darned tomatoes, I think about that.  Most of us are an ordinary people, and God promises that somehow our lives will bear fruit, that something will last.

So finally, and finally, the cherry tomatoes and the large tomatoes are beginning to turn red.  And what I'm realizing is that even though there are only two tomato plants, it's a pretty good bet that I will have more tomatoes than I really need.  I will have tomatoes to share.

Because, you know, there's nothing like a fresh tomato from the garden.

"You did not choose me, but I chose you.  And I appointed you to go and bear fruit, fruit that will last."

Peace, justice, mercy.

The love of God in Christ.


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