The Rabbi and the Tomato

by Suzanne McCarthy for TCC

Tis the season when the gardeners among us start itching to get out their Burpee catalogs and decide what vegetables to plant come spring. If one is lucky, one can depend upon a garden center nearby to stock a good variety which saves us the trouble of starting seeds at home.

There was a newspaper article the other day that said that tens of thousands of victims of Hurricane Katrina are still in hotels and that there is still no way to tell when they will get back into their homes.

I love to look in the Burpee catalog, but I never was much good at starting seeds myself. So it was the year I bought two tomato plants rather than start seeds myself. I had been so hungry for home-grown tomatoes so the first day I saw tomato plants at the garden center I chose two small ones to take home. My husband and I don't need a dozen plants the way we did when we were raising children. As it turns out, two was plenty. I took the plants home and planted them in a bare spot not far from my rose bushes. I planted them in identical-sized holes, filled with a mix of potting soil and manure. I put a few stones in the bottom of each hole for drainage and both plants faced south and got equal sunlight. I figured that the reflected sunlight from the driveway would warm the soil enough that, even if there was a mild frost, it would not harm the plants. As it turned out, the warmth and reflected sunlight was helpful to them as the weather turned cool in the fall.

So now, you might ask "What does a Rabbi have to do with the tomato plants?" I am going to get to that in a minute.

Last week as Christmas came, I remembered how we ate our last ripe tomato one year for Christmas dinner. But that is getting ahead of the story.

About six years ago, my husband saw a small notice in the local newspaper that a Rabbi was going to teach a class during lunch hour in the city and all were welcome to come. My husband said "Hey Suz! Look at this!" and he read the little article to me. "I think you should go!" he said with an enthusiasm that surprised me. I prayed about it and felt that perhaps God had moved on my husband's heart to encourage me to go. The next thing to do was email the Rabbi and ask if it was ok with him because I am a Christian. He very kindly wrote back and said that, yes,it was all right as long as I understood that it was not a Bible study and they didn't believe in Jesus and they wouldn't be talking about Jesus at the class. This was to be a class on the Sefer HaHinuch, which was a book that goes into great detail explaining the 613

Commandments in the Torah, and the Rabbi explained in his letter that the goal of the class was to help people live lives pleasing to God. So I still had the peace in my heart to go to the class and I emailed the Rabbi that I would come.

As it turns out, I was the only woman who came to the class more than once. I went for 2-1/2 years except when I was out of town, and although sometimes the discussion was a bit over my head, I learned, and I loved the core group. To this day I miss the class and the group. It disbanded when Rabbi Chonye moved to another city.

Each Monday we would meet and lunch was provided. My Mom and Dad always taught me to show gratitude and to not be a moocher, but how best could I do this when all the food was kosher? It wasn't like it was a "pot luck" or "covered-dish dinner" where I could contribute a casserole or dessert. So I contributed now and then with a check to the Chabad, but I wanted to show the Rabbi that I appreciated him too. After all, he had to prepare for the class,and he picked up the food which was an effort for him and it was loving of him to do it. He and his wife had little children and he was busy. He always was so cheerful and greeted us warmly and made the class so interesting. He always took time to explain the holidays and feasts and customs to me too, which I appreciated, and I passed this information on to my gentile friends and church family. So, I would visit the farm outside of town and I would buy the Rabbi some fresh vegetables that had just come from the fields, such as corn-on-the cob.

All during this time I was feeding and watering my two tomato plants and watching them grow and set fruit. At this point, both were setting fruit equally well, but eventually one plant produced the first ripe tomato. It was the beginning of August. As I picked the tomato, I felt the Lord telling me "Give it to the Rabbi." So, I went back into the house, and got a small paper bag, then I brushed the garden soil off the tomato and took it with me to the class. I had no idea until a couple weeks later that this Rabbi was a Cohen, which meant he was from the tribe of Levi from the family line of Aaron. When I gave him that tomato, I didn't realize that I was fulfilling the commandment to give the firstfruits of the harvest to the Priest. "Speak unto the children of Israel, and say unto them, When ye be come into the land which I give unto you, and shall reap the harvest thereof, then ye shall bring a sheaf of the firstfruits of your harvest unto the priest...." Leviticus 23:10 and "And ye shall eat neither bread, nor parched corn, nor green ears, until the selfsame day that ye have brought an offering unto your God: it shall be a statute for ever throughout your generations in all your dwellings." Levitucus 23:14.

The next week we went away for vacation and I didn't go to the class, but the second plant did not have any ripe tomatoes yet anyway so I figured that I would give away the first ripe one after we returned. However when we returned from vacation, the first plant had many ripe tomatoes and was setting even more little tomatoes. The second plant was lagging way behind. In fact it never caught up. It never produced a tomato at a time that I could take it to my Rabbi friend. I began counting the tomatoes on the first plant and was amazed that one plant could hold so many tomatoes!

As August turned into September I had to prop up the plant with little blocks of wood to keep the tomatoes from sitting on the ground. The plant shot up in height and spilled out over the driveway and sent shoots out toward my rose bushes. The other plant just sat and only had some small tomatoes, and it seemed reluctant to let even those few get ripe.

I kept taking tomatoes from the first plant to the class to give away. I took tomatoes to work to give away. I gave tomatoes to neighbors. We ate fresh tomatoes in salads, in tomato sandwiches and sliced with onions. I stewed tomatoes and made fresh tomato salsa and even some sauce.

In early October the plant was still covered with tomatoes both green and ripening, so I covered it with a sheet when we had a frost. We continued to eat tomatoes and give them away and I continued keeping count.

In late October it became obvious that cold weather was setting in so I picked off all the tomatoes both green and ripe. I wrapped the green ones in newspaper and put them in the garage where they would not freeze. I would check them weekly and we would use them as they ripened.

And so it was that on Christmas Day we ate the last ripe tomato from the plant from which I had given the young Rabbi the firstfruits. That plant had grown and prospered and had supplied over 400 tomatoes of all sizes. The second plant had supplied only 12 tomatoes. Both plants were the same variety and had the same care, amount of sunshine, water and fertilizer.

What's the point of this story? The point is that the Laws of God work today as they have for thousands of years. Even though I had never doubted it, God graciously confirmed it to me in a way that was a joy to me and it enabled us to bless others. So this year, when you get the first ripe vegetables or fruits from your garden, give them to your Pastor or to the local Rabbi. God will be delighted and so will they, and the yield of your crops will be blessed by God.