You can listen to this week’s Devotional here
Author: Scott Allman
Devotionals are like prayers. Our first thought is always gratitude. Thank you, Holy Spirit. Now, let’s get down to business.
Classic devotionals have a safe structure. Begin with a short title, then a scripture verse, followed by new wisdom and ending with a short summary. A familiar scene from the Bible or everyday travails might be shown from a new perspective, or different main characters, or some such rearrangement. The ordinary is transformed into wisdom.
This devotional is more a collection of metaphors but more on that at the end. The main characters here are humble, small, snacking tomatoes.
Jesus never ate a tomato. Nor a pepper or ground cherry. As far as I know, there are no accounts in the Bible of Jesus, on a sunny day, holding a salt shaker in one hand and with his other hand He plucks a sun-warmed, just-ripe tomato from the vine. I have read crank fiction about Jesus of Nazareth hop-scotching around North America during the Middle Ages, but I have no patience with such nonsense. I leave that one for other devotional writers to investigate.
Also, I choose to not rely on the classic formula. I asked an artificial intelligence chatbot to write me a devotional about Safety. The AI guru paused, and then it replied “See the fourth book of the Old Testament.” That seemed odd until I realized it was a pun. There is Safety in Numbers. No more asking AI for help with devotionals.
In this devotional, my wife Sue and I are inviting you to harvest veggies and flowers from our garden. You are granted a perpetual, no-holds-barred, all-you-can-eat license to pick. There are a few rules, however.
First, both the plants and the congregation are in a race against the first frost of this season. Water expands when it freezes and puts pressure on plant cell walls. Sometimes the walls retract with the morning thaw and sometimes they burst and can’t. Once broken, there is no going back.
Second, do not expect to find zucchinis. Back in Tippecanoe County, Indiana, where I was raised the only time the good folks locked their doors was to prevent visits from the Zucchini fairy. Thou shall not foist zukes on your friends.
Third, while harvesting, if you are very lucky, and look closely, you may see a largish caterpillar merrily munching on a tomato twig. Leave it be. If it is not to your liking, simply snap off the twig. Relocate branch and bug to the ghetto we created for these critters. This garden values pollinators.
Fourth, bring friends and family, especially young ones who may think that all food comes in Styrofoam containers. Pick a bouquet of Black-Eyed Susans, Zinnias, and Cosmos. Visit the garden early on Sunday morning and help us create a “floral arrangement” for the sanctuary. Bring a vase for your flowers.
Lastly, I have this fantasy. Late in the afternoon before the night of the first frost, when I look to the skies in the West and see the dark gray clouds of the coming wet and cold, I want to glance back at the garden and see it is harvested. Its time has come and gone.
Now for the verses and metaphors.
Last Sunday in church Stewart Leach, in his wonderful gift for description, was telling me about a sumptuous tomato. I said, “Bring me a part of one, we’ll harvest the seeds, and God and time will do the rest for next year.”
“While the earth remains, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night, shall not cease.”There are natural cycles of planting and harvesting. Be in tune with these cycles. Genesis 8:22:
“Do not withhold good from those to whom it is due, when it is in your power to do it.” Be generous and responsible with our resources, which includes cut flowers and the humble tomato. Proverbs 3:27:
