It's About the Tomatoes

"But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control..."
                                     Galatians 5:22, 23

Today I uprooted my favorite tomato plant ever.  It is November, and winter really is around the corner.  The time had come to cut the plant down.  I took my time, more time than I imagine a real gardener would.  First, I picked all the tomatoes that had ripened, despite chilly temperatures.  I was surprised at how many big, beautiful cherry tomatoes there were.  Then, I began clipping vines.  I worked in small sections, discovering hidden ripe tomatoes, tossing away empty vines, and carefully saving green tomatoes.  (They will sit in the garage and continue to ripen.)

As I slowly made my way through the bush, I noticed that the best tomatoes came from vines tangled up in the small tree that the plant had grown into.  The tree seemed to sigh in relief each time I clipped and carefully disengaged a vine from its slender branches.  It was more than ready to see the plant go.  I uncovered the tomato cage which had proved inadequate.  I discovered morning glory pervasively trying to choke the plant.  But ripe tomatoes tangled into the weed, regardless.   I rediscovered sprinklers, and worn out flowers that had been covered up with tomato vines for months.  And I continued to work.

As much as I love this silly plant, I realized that my concern was not for the vines, but for the fruit.  I did not preserve any of the leaves, vines or roots, but I cared very much about saving the tomatoes.  The tomatoes were important.  My plant seemed to know this.  Tomatoes grew everywhere, in the midst of weeds, along the ground in the dirt, in the middle of the tomato cage, and all the way up the vines through the tree.  They grew regardless of their surroundings.  The vine was created to produce tomatoes, and it did. 

The Hebrew word “glory” means “to add weight to.”  The Greek word means to “give praise and honor.” I have been thinking about what “glory” looks like in my Christian life all week.  And I don’t have a firm handle on it.  Still, something struck a chord as I lifted heavy clusters of tomatoes out of the tree.  Maybe glorifying God has to do with living as I was designed to live and doing what I am called to do, regardless of my surroundings and circumstances or potential distractions.  Could I glorify God simply by producing the fruit He is growing me to produce? And not just a little fruit, but a lot of fruit.  Consistent fruit.  I am put on this earth to glorify God.  It is not about my happiness, my comfort, my agenda, or my contributions to the world.  If I were a plant, I would be a Glorify God Plant.  And I would need to produce Glory To God Fruit.  My tomato plant knew…and I believe my tree knows, too…it’s all about the fruit.

"By this my Father is glorified, that you bear much fruit and so prove to be my disciples.  As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you.  Abide in my love."
                    John 15:8-9