Dear Members and Friends of Napa United Methodist Church,
Perhaps you have had that experience when a scent catches you off guard and suddenly reminds you of something long forgotten. That is what happened to me this summer in the parsonage. Here is my story:
When I was in the fourth grade, growing up in the rural countryside of Meru, Kenya, in a school where we did not have running water, I joined the local 4-K Club. The deal was simple: they gave each of us a tiny plot of land to plant whatever we wanted. I chose tomatoes, and to say I got carried away with tomato husbandry is an understatement. I became a full-blown fourth-grade tomato farmer.
I took my job terrifyingly seriously. I sheltered the ten plants with some hay, watched them grow, and meticulously tied them to hand-picked sticks for support. I went on hunting expeditions to gather and pound dry cow dung into powdered manure for my plants. Twice a day, at the crack of dawn and again at dusk, I walked all the way to the river to fetch a jerrycan of water for my precious plants.
In a stunning turn of events, my tomatoes actually won an award. For a few months, I was utterly convinced God was calling me to be a tomato farmer. Eventually, life happened, and I forgot all about my tomato glory days.
That is, until I moved into the parsonage this past July and discovered a stunning tomato plant waiting for me. Now, I don’t know who planted it, but the scent of the leaves immediately transported me to my forgotten fourth-grade days. The tomatoes themselves were a revelation! They were small enough to be popped into the mouth whole and were so incredibly sweet and juicy that they completely settled the age-old culinary debate: tomatoes are definitely a fruit! They were practically dessert.
As I sat on the back porch enjoying my free daily tomato snack, I found myself wondering about the mystery gardener who planted that vine, and experiencing a sweet expression of gratitude for them. Assuming Pastor Marylee is the one who planted this amazing tomato plant, I have blessed and given thanks for her each day. In fact, I have named her my saint!
Speaking of saints, it is easy to see the fingerprints of saints everywhere we look in our sanctuary. We sit in the building whose mortgage they paid, sit in pews they commissioned, enjoy the stained-glass windows they installed, and gather around the communion table they provided. We preach from the pulpit, sing from the hymn books, and praise God through the piano, organ, and bells they fundraised for. Like my parsonage tomato vine, these are all gifts planted by previous generations whose shade—and fruit—we now enjoy.
As we enter the month of October, our worship theme is “Called to Sainthood”. Our working definition of a saint is not a perfect person, but simply “someone through whom we have seen the love of God in action”. Throughout the month we will hear of saints like Andy Juvenall, who challenged Napa to open housing for people of all races, ethnicities and religions; Bill McCord, who pushed for the church to build Napa Creek Manor when there was only one senior housing facility in Napa; Jan Lanterman, who faithfully led music ministry in this congregation for 50 years; Doug Monroe, who called this congregation to welcome and embrace LGBTQ siblings long before there was such a conversation in the United Methodist Church; Ginny Pearson whose compassion envisioned our Hope Center ministry … and many, many more—both clergy and laity, those living and those who have entered God’s eternal kin-dom.
As we enjoy the gifts the saints built and planted for us, may we hear our call to build and plant for the saints of the future. In fact, on Sunday there is a letter in the parlor, inviting you to sainthood. Save us a stamp and pick it up. It’s got your name on it!
See you Sunday in church at the World Communion Sunday celebration!
Love, Grace