Rhubarb or Rutabagas?

 

 

I saw them to the left of the parsley, above the radishes, below the leeks – long and pink they were, and they were there for me; finally, at last, a special pie was, the Lord wiling, in my future. I tore a green translucent plastic bag off a nearby roll and placed a few of the pink stalks in it, then closed the bag with a twist-tie (usually there are no twist-ties in the store, but today was my special day in the produce department).   

 

After finishing my journey through the store, I entered the checkout line. There was a young man at the register with an older lady bagging and coaching him; he was the trainee and she was the trainer. I am a regular customer at this grocery store and it was the first time I saw Frank, while Gloria, the woman doing the coaching, was a familiar face.

 

As Frank was scanning the bar codes of my purchases he picked up the green plastic bag and quizzically looked closely at the pink stalks – no bar codes – terror! While most produce items now have bar codes these pink stalks, unattached to each other, did not – before I could enlighten Frank, Gloria spoke up, “Those are rutabagas.” No sooner had those words come from her mouth than the word “rhubarb” came from my lips.

 

There was a momentary silence, brief, almost imperceptible. Followed by an explanation from Gloria, “Well, different people call them different things.”

 

At that point I launched into the merits of a rhubarb-strawberry pie and how while many people have never tasted this delicacy, that I was certain that such delight was in my future owing to these pink stalks and my wife’s enduring love for me, a love often manifested in baking.

 

After arriving home and unpacking the groceries, I scanned the sales receipt and saw that my rhubarb was indeed shown as rutabagas on the receipt.

 

Two days later I was back at the grocery store for more rutabagas (rhubarb); I needed more for the pie. The same young man awaited me at the register, and this time when he picked up my rhubarb he did it in utter and complete confidence. Naturally, when I got into the car to drive home I first looked at the sales receipt – behold, I had once again purchased rutabagas!

 

To the best of my knowledge there is no recipe for a rutabaga pie. Rutabagas are a cross between a turnip and a cabbage, in case you were wondering. Historically they have been popular with Swedes and Finns, so popular with Swedes that I’ve read that our British cousins call them “Swedes.” Is this akin to Tom Hanks calling a basketball “Wilson”?

 

However, while I began this meditation on rhubarb and rutabagas somewhat fancifully, I’ve since come to a sobering thought. At first I thought it was a great illustration that many people have Gloria’s attitude about life, “People call it different things.” Meaning that we often assign names and meanings to ideas and concepts without any foundation, just because we feel like it or because we heard it from someone else and adopted it for our own - without any investigation. I’ve often seen this in congregations, among friends (both Christian and non-Christian), in academia, and in our society. I’d say that the news media, from the left to the right, have finely honed the art of calling rhubarb rutabagas…as have more than one popular preacher or “Christian” media personality or author.

 

How often do we read a Bible passage and deny that it is rhubarb and instead insist that it is a rutabaga? We can always respond, “Well, people call it different things.”

 

But here’s the thing that transported me from fancifulness to sobriety, I asked myself, “How many times have I done this? Am I doing it now?”

 

I can look back over my life and see that there have indeed been times when I not only called rhubarb rutabagas, but I also vehemently defended my position. I not only defended my position, but more than once I used my position as a litmus test for fellowship, for relationship, for acceptance of others.

 

I have, by God’s grace, made some major theological changes in my life…and I am still seeking and still learning. I have also made some major changes in my thinking about society in general. So I know by experience what it is to call a rhubarb a rutabaga, my present concern is…am I doing it now?

 

What about you? When have you realized that you’ve been calling a rhubarb a rutabaga? Chances are…that if you can’t think of an example in your own life…that perhaps…just maybe…there could be a possibility…that you might do well to review the sales receipt and consider just what it is you’ve purchased.