"I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinegrower. He removes every branch in me that bears no fruit...Abide in me as I abide in you. just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me." John 15:1-2,4
This lesson from this Sunday's lectionary must have been in the back of my mind while cooking dinner later that night.
Earlier in the week, I'd bought some tomatoes on the vine from Fred Meyer. Saturday, I found luscious, organic basil at the farmer's market. Add a some fresh mozzerella, ground pepper, olive oil and salt and the result is truly divine.
I noticed, as I prepared to chop tomatoes, that one had fallen off the vine. I chose that one first, then gently eased another off the vine. I put my fingers to my nose. I inhaled. I know of few sweeter smells than fresh tomato vine. It is the smell of my Iowa childhood and the promise of flavor.
I must digress here to say that I find it difficult to buy and eat tomatoes here in this frozen state (corn too!) The red orbs are just not the same as those heated by the hot Iowa summers. So I settle for those on the vine from Freddie's most of the year and then wait anxiously for local heirlooms later.
Anyway, I cut into the tomato that had fallen off the vine. It yielded to my knife and I diced it into the waiting bowl. I slipped a small sliver into my mouth. It was okay, nothing spectacular, a tomato-in-waiting. It would have to do.
I cut into the second tomato, the one that I had to pull from it's vine. It too became a diced pile in my bowl. I tasted one of the segments. Of course it wasn't garden fresh, but it was good. Very good. Full of flavor. It was (or at least close enough) to what at tomato should be.
Then I thought of that passage from John again. "Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me."
What was Jesus talking about? Some might say that those who aren't connected to the vine deserve nothing more than a toss into the fire (see John 15:6). That's one way to read the passage.
But perhaps it's not so much that those fallen-off-the-vine tomatoes (er, people) are worthless. I did still use that tomato. But it just wasn't what it could be. It wasn't its full tomato-y self. It wasn't all I knew the tomato could be. Sure, you can eat a tomato long since disconnected from the vine. It's just not the way a tomato was intended to be used.
Perhaps that's true of us. Lots of people live long lives and experience happiness apart from the vine of Christ. But it's just not the way we were intended to be. There's a certain sweetness missing, a certain fullness and ripeness.
The salad tasted good, by the way. As summer unfolds, I have faith it will get even better.
