August 22, 2010 From the archives…
Monsignor “Doc” Johnson was a seminary professor who was a keen philosopher. “Boys,” he’d say to us, “you can’t write an epic about a maple leaf floating down the river. You can only write an epic about major themes in life. Only major themes have enough substance for an epic. It’s the same when you preach. You have to talk about major themes of the gospel.”
I think of him often. I thought of him the other day. I thought of the leaf floating down the river. I agree that you can’t write an epic about leaves. But tomatoes! That’s a different story.
It was the First Friday of August. On First Fridays of each month, priests customarily bring Holy Communion to the shut-ins of the parish. At one of my visits the family was grateful for my visit and gave me two home-grown tomatoes, my first of the season. I continued my rounds, wondering if I should share one with another shut-in. I resisted. How do I know if they even like home-grown tomatoes? Sometimes tomatoes are acidic and may not be good for an older person! This person has a garden of her own. She doesn’t need any more items brought to her! Finally, I weakened. This lady doesn’t see anyone for several days at a time. I’ll bring a tomato in to her, the smaller of the two.
“Do you like tomatoes?” I asked. “Oh, Father, I love them. Oh, my Bill used to love home grown tomatoes. Then, I’d can them. He’d always ask, ‘Will there be enough left in the pot from your canning for a bowl for me now? Will there be some left over?’ ‘Yes, Bill, I’ll leave a bowlful for you!’ Then, I’d get out some crackers. I tell you, Father, it was really easy to cook for my Bill. Oh, I miss him.”
Well, maybe this isn’t an epic either; still, these are sentiments that moved me. I was moved by the gift I first received. I was moved by how, in the Church, the gift to one person becomes a gift to another. I was moved by how a small home-grown tomato could stir such a reverie of memories.
With olive oil, I sliced and ate the other tomato, the larger one, for lunch that day.