My tomatoes. Not your tomatoes. My tomatoes!

When God in Exodus (23: 6 – 19) and Leviticus (23:9) and Deuteronomy (26:2) talked about bringing one’s first fruits before God and offering them to the Priest, I’m pretty sure my tomatoes were not what was being discussed.  And also in Leviticus (19:9) the rule was to leave some for those hungry like the widows and orphans when harvesting a field, but surely my six humble tomato plants did not come up.  And in no way do my beloved Cherokee Purple heirloom tomatoes qualify.  Surely not.

I’m having a hard time being mature and generous about having my first few tomatoes go missing.  I was really looking forward to those two dark beauties.  And I know that the okra and brussels sprouts aren’t producing yet, but really?  My favorites???  I was totally in favor of this gleaning policy until it became personal.  This rule from Leviticus is even how my favorite Biblical friend, Ruth, got by.  But see that’s what happens when we read scripture and then look at our own lives: things get uncomfortable.  And we’re not just called upon to give up our favorite tomatoes but our lives as well.  No matter how nicely worded, one can’t put up a sign saying “I hope you were really hungry to take my tomatoes and that you enjoyed them” in matters of having our lives taken over.  We can’t say to everyone we meet “I hope you were really lonely and God making me give my life over is enjoyable to you.”  It doesn’t work very well, and one might be accused of having a smart lip. 

But that is what we are called to do.  To recognize that all we have is from God and give back our first fruits.  In seeing that what we have isn’t really our own, we leave some of what we have so that others might not only survive but thrive.  I have to believe that someone else enjoyed those tomato sandwiches as much as I was going to.  And, surprise, more tomatoes are appearing now.  Thanks be to God.