After reading them for so many years, I can skim a recipe and garner all sorts of necessary information in that quick once-over.  Not just whether I have the ingredients, but how long it will take, what I can do ahead of time, what equipment I will need, the substitutions I can make if necessary, and whether I can cut it in half or freeze half of it.  Sometimes, though, a recipe needs a closer reading.

            I made a vegetable lasagna once that turned out well, but was way too big.  I took over half of the leftovers to my women’s class potluck and it got rave reviews and several requests.  So I went home and started typing the two page recipe containing at least two dozen ingredients.  The typing required a careful reading of the recipe so I wouldn’t give anyone wrong amounts or directions, and as I did so I discovered that I had completely forgotten one ingredient and had missed one of the procedures.  Just imagine how good it would have been if I had done the whole thing correctly.

            Too many times we try to read the Bible like I read that recipe, especially the passages we think we already know.  I have said many times to many classes, the biggest hindrance to learning is what you think you already know.  Today I am going to prove it to you.

            Have you ever said, or even taught, that turning the water to wine was the first miracle Jesus ever did?  I know, it’s what all the Bible class curricula say.  Well, it’s your job to check out those lessons with your own careful reading.  Most of the time that means reading far beyond the actual lesson text.  This isn’t even hard to see, but you do have to think about what you see.  Some time today when you have the time—okay, make the time—read the following verses.
 
John 1:45-51—Jesus tells Nathanael that he saw him before it was possible for him to see him.  This was enough of a miracle that it brought a confession from Nathanael: “Rabbi, you are the Son of God, you are the King of Israel”, v 49.

2:11—“This is the first of his signs” (water to wine)

2:23—“Now when he was in Jerusalem at the Passover Feast, many believed on his name when they saw the signs that he was doing.” (Notice, this is an unknown number of signs,)

4:16-19—Jesus tells the woman at the well all about her life, a life he could not have known about except miraculously.  She would later tell her neighbors, “Come see a man who told me all that ever I did.  Can this be the Christ?” v 29.  She certainly thought she had seen a miracle.

4:46-54—Jesus heals the nobleman’s son, which John labels “the second sign that Jesus did.”  What about John 1?  What about 2:23?  What about Samaria?
 
            For years I read “first” and “second,” knowing full well about the other signs before and between them, and didn’t even think about what I was reading. I was reading it like a recipe, a quick once over because I already knew the story.  Now, having seen all the passages together, you can see that “first” and “second” in John 2:11 and 4:54 obviously do not mean the simple chronological “first” and “second” you might think at first glance.  You need the entire context of John to figure it out.

            Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of the disciples, which are not written in this book; but these are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name, John 20:30,31.  Right there John tells you not only why he wrote his book, but that he simply chose certain signs to discuss in detail.  If you do a careful study of the entire book, you will discover that he chose seven, each making a particular point about the power of Jesus that proves his Deity.  No, I am not going to list them for you.  You need to take up your Bibles and figure it out for yourself so you know firsthand.   

            When John says “This is the first,” and “this is the second,” he is simply referring to the list of seven he intends to discuss more fully.  Turning the water to wine was the first on his list, NOT the first miracle Jesus ever did, and all you have to do is read earlier in the book to see at least one more—Nathanael’s.  In fact, you cannot even count the number he did in between the “first” and the “second,” 2:23.

            So, be careful what you believe.  Be even more careful what you teach because that could affect many others.  Pay attention to the details and don’t pull events and verses out of context.  Do you want to know why so many false doctrines spread?  Because people read the “proof texts” like a recipe, a quick scan instead of a careful reading, if indeed they read them at all.

            Don’t skim the Word of God.  Give it the attention it deserves.     
 
And we have something more sure, the prophetic word, to which you will do well to pay attention as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts, 2 Pet 1:19.
 
Dene Ward

Pecan pie is a staple at our holiday table.  I found a great (and easy) recipe years ago and have not changed it a bit, which itself is notable.  Yet when I found a recipe recently for “the very best pecan pie,” I decided to give it a try.  Pecans, sugar, syrup, eggs, butter, and vanilla—how can you mess it up?

            I dutifully followed the recipe in every detail.  The only real difference was the syrup.  “Corn syrup is tasteless,” the author said, so she switched to real maple syrup.

            “This had better be good,” I thought as I shelled out seven dollars for one small bottle. It wasn’t.  No, that’s not fair.  It did not taste awful, but it wasn’t pecan pie.

            I reread the article.  I should have known when I saw the line, “All you can taste are the pecans,” referring to the standard recipe using corn syrup.  Well, it is called Pecan Pie.  It is all about the pecans to us Southerners.  This magazine was based in New England.  What the chef had created was a Maple Nut Pie because suddenly it was all about the maple syrup.  You could have added walnuts, hazelnuts, or almonds and not have known the difference.  She had completely changed the focus of the pie.

            The Sabbath was made for man, and not man for the Sabbath, Mark 2:27.  Over and over during his ministry, the scribes and Pharisees plagued Jesus with accusations of breaking the Sabbath.  Their many rules and regulations, not found in the law, had turned what God designed to be a blessing for man into a burden. 

            The Sabbath was a day of rest for God’s people, while the pagan world worked seven days a week just to survive.  It was a day when they could see to their spiritual needs, and renew their relationship with God.  It was a day of “holy convocation,” Lev 23:3.  The many rigorous—and ridiculous—traditions had made it a day to dread instead. 

            Jesus reminded them many times that man should be blessed by the Sabbath, that his good should come because of and sometimes even at the expense of the Sabbath.  They pulled their oxen out of the ditch.  Why shouldn’t he heal?

            When you change the focus of a law, you often lose the blessing God intended from that law.  Staying with the idea of a special day, what about our Lord’s Day?  Is it necessary to make it inconvenient in order for it to be sincere worship?  Yet, I have heard people argue about changing the times of service in exactly that way.  If we have many who come from a distance, and the price of gas has become prohibitive, why can’t we meet one time for longer instead of two shorter services without being accused of losing our faith? 

            Can’t you hear Jesus’ reaction?  The Lord’s Day is made for man, not man for the Lord’s Day. If inconvenience is what makes it true worship, let’s meet at 3 am. 

            To make another application, each one of us is responsible for how we view our assemblies, for our focus when we meet.  If instead of being a blessing it is nothing more than a rule to follow, then I need to change my focus to God’s intended one.  We are told that our assembling should “provoke one another to love and good works.”  Too many times all we get is provoked, and that is our own fault. Let all be done unto edifying, Paul tells those assembled in 1 Cor 14:26.  You can’t edify a person who sits there like a rock, who listens to find fault, or who wishes he were somewhere else. 

            Don’t change the focus of God’s laws.  He made them to bless us and help us.  When we can’t find the blessing, it’s because we are focused on ourselves, our own bad attitudes and evil motives, instead of on serving a Creator who loves us and blesses us, and on brethren who count on us for encouragement.
 
For this is the love of God, that we keep his commandments, and his commandments are not grievous, 1 John 5:3.
 
Dene Ward

Over forty years ago Time-Life put out cookbooks containing authentic recipes from all over the world.  I picked up some of them at a used book store in the 70s and several recipes have found a permanent place in my repertoire.  From the Chinese book I cook Pepper Steak, Sweet and Sour Pork, and Egg Rolls that are as good as any Chinese restaurant’s I have ever had.  From the Italian one I use the Pasta Fagioli, the pizza dough and the marinara most often.

            That marinara may, in fact, be the recipe I use more than any other.  From it I make pizza sauce, spaghetti sauce, and the sauces for eggplant parmagiana, chicken parmagiana, and anything else you can parmagiana.  I use it with meatballs, ground beef, and Italian sausage on pasta, and as a dipping sauce for calzones.  You can change it up with various herbs and extra vegetables like mushrooms and peppers.             

            Whenever I serve it, I get remarks like, “Wow!  This tastes so—Italian!”  Indeed, and why shouldn’t it when it is made the way Italians like it—olive oil, onions, garlic, tomatoes, basil, salt and pepper, and a little tomato paste if your tomatoes are extra juicy.  It is simple.  I can put it together in ten minutes and let it simmer for 30-40 with only a stir here and there.  It has thoroughly spoiled my family. 

            Once, because it was on sale and we were in a hurry, I picked up a canned sauce, one of the better ones as I recall, not simply Ragu.  After the first bite, Keith looked at me and said, “What is this?  Tomato syrup?”  You see, Americans have become so addicted to sugar that nearly all the processed sauces are full of it. 

            I watched a blind taste test on a television show once, a homemade tomato sauce made by a trained chef, an authentic Italian sauce a whole lot like mine, against a national brand in a jar.  The majority preferred the jarred one.  They said the homemade one wasn’t sweet enough.  Why doesn’t that make people sit up and take notice?  Pasta and sugar?  Yuk.  It even sounds awful.  But that’s what Americans want it seems; not the true, authentic sauce, but the syrupy one they have grown accustomed to.
 
            I think the same thing has happened with religion.  It doesn’t matter to
us how the first century church did things.  What matters is the hoopla, the spectacle, and the histrionics we have grown accustomed to.  If it excites us and makes us feel good, that’s what we want.  If I can compartmentalize the corporate part of it into a once-every-week-or-so pep rally, and then live as I prefer with no one bothering me about it, then religion has served its purpose.

            That religion--mainstream denominational religion--has totally changed its focus.  It is nothing but a religion of self.  Authentic religion is about God.   It wants only what God wants.  It lives only for Him and his purpose.  It understands that whether I am happy or comfortable or excited has nothing to do with faithfulness.  In fact, faithfulness is often shown best when those things are lacking. 

            Authenticity in religion does matter if you mean to be worshipping someone besides yourself.  I remember the days of old; I meditate on all that you have done; I ponder the work of your hands. I stretch out my hands to you; my soul thirsts for you like a parched land, Psalm 143:5,6.  When David was in trouble, when it mattered how God received him—he thought back to the old days.  The prophets often told the people to repent and go back to the old ways, the times when they worshiped God truly, instead of pleasing themselves in hedonistic idolatry.

            If you find yourself dissatisfied with your religious life, if you see differences in how your group attempts to worship God and how the original Christians did, maybe it’s time for you to go on the hunt for some authenticity.  Do it before you become addicted to the noise and excitement.  It is possible to worship in simplicity and truth.  It is possible to be encouraged by like minded brothers and sisters who want to please God instead of themselves.  In the end, they come far closer to the selfless ideal of their Savior than those who are determined to have what they want “because that’s how I like it,” instead of caring anything at all about how God might like it.
 
Thus says the LORD: "Stand by the roads, and look, and ask for the ancient paths, where the good way is; and walk in it, and find rest for your souls. But they said, 'We will not walk in it.' I set watchmen over you, saying, 'Pay attention to the sound of the trumpet!' But they said, 'We will not pay attention.' Therefore hear, O nations, and know, O congregation, what will happen to them. Hear, O earth; behold, I am bringing disaster upon this people, the fruit of their devices, because they have not paid attention to my words; and as for my law, they have rejected it, Jer 6:16-19.
 
Dene Ward
 

In the old days buttermilk was simply the liquid left over after churning butter.  It was thin and watery, and not sour at all, unless you allowed your cream to “ripen” a few days before churning, something high end butter makers still do today.

            Nowadays buttermilk is skim milk to which cultures have been added to develop flavor and to thicken consistency.  Buttermilk has its place in the baker’s refrigerator.  It adds tang and helps the rise, especially when used with baking soda.  You will have the highest and fluffiest biscuits and pancakes you ever made.

            The word “culture” has several meanings.  A culture can be a special nutrient in which things are grown, usually in laboratories.  In agriculture it can refer to tillage to prepare the land for planting.  It can apply to a specific community of people and their shared beliefs and customs, and also the things they produce like art, music, and literature.  Can you see in all these cases a relationship to growth and improvement?  In the kitchen it certainly produces better baked goods.  But culture can be negative as well.  The culture of Sodom and Gomorrah produced a sinful lifestyle that led to its destruction.

            Ruth understood the effects of a culture.  This brave young widow was willing to leave behind her culture and embrace another just so she could worship Jehovah.  In her world, no matter the culture, widows could look forward to only two things—either a new husband to support her, or poverty for the rest of her life.  “Orphans and widows” were the symbol of helplessness throughout the scriptures.  Ruth’s best bet for a happy and prosperous life was to stay in her homeland among her own people and find that new husband. 

            But something was more important to her than her comfort zone, as we so often call it.  She completely changed her culture.  She left home for a place where she had to learn a new language, new customs and traditions, and new laws.  She left her family and her friends for a people not known for accepting strangers with open arms.  Why do you think the law is full of reminders to take care of “strangers and sojourners?”  We know the end of the story, but Ruth didn’t.  She had nothing to look forward to but a life of hard work and poverty, dependent upon whether or not these new people she was willing to claim as her own followed the laws God set up to support widows.  I think it is obvious that even if they had not, her conversion was to Jehovah, not them, and she would have continued on anyway.

            How about us?  Do we have the strength to give up our culture?  Language, fashion, music, literature, entertainment, and what passes as art these days is often completely opposed to the righteousness God expects of his people.  Can you give it up?

            I find it helps to think of it like this:  I am not giving up my culture to stand alone.  I am giving up one culture for another.  Our citizenship is in Heaven, Paul reminds us in Phil 3:20.  Just as Ruth was willing to embrace a new culture, we should too, and in that embracing we find support from those who are just like us.  We are no longer standing alone against the crowd.

            Which culture do you live in this morning?
 
But Ruth said, "Do not urge me to leave you or to return from following you. For where you go I will go, and where you lodge I will lodge. Your people shall be my people, and your God my God. Where you die I will die, and there will I be buried. May the LORD do so to me and more also if anything but death parts me from you." Ruth 1:16,17.

Dene Ward

Canning tomatoes is one of the more difficult garden season chores.  You wash each and every tomato.  You scald each and every tomato.  You pound ice blocks till your arms ache in order to shock and cool each and every scalded tomato.  You peel each and every tomato and finally you cut up each and every tomato.  How many?  In the old days about 5 five gallon buckets full, enough to make 40+ quarts.  Then you sterilize jars, pack jars, and process jars.  Only 7 fit in the canner at a time, so you go through that at least 6 times.

            And you will have more failures to seal with canned tomatoes than any other thing you can.  As you pack them in, pushing down to make room, you must be very careful not to let the juice spill over into the threads of the jar.  And just in case you did that heinous crime, you take a damp cloth and wipe each thread of each jar.  Tomato pulp will keep a perfectly good jar, lid, and ring from sealing.

            In order to have that many tomatoes you must be willing to cut up a few that are half-rotten, disposing of the soft, pulpy, stinky parts—and boy howdy, can they stink!—in order to save sometimes just a bite or two of tomato.  Now that there are only two of us, I usually limit myself to 20 + quarts.  I still put one in every pot of spaghetti sauce, one in every pot of chili, and one in every pot of minestrone, as well as a few other recipes, it’s just that I don’t make as many of those things as I did with two boys in the house.  Now I can afford to be a little profligate.  If I pick up a tomato with a large bad spot, I am just as likely to toss the whole thing rather than try to save the bite or two that is good, especially if it is a small tomato to begin with.  Why go to all that work—washing, scalding, shocking, peeling, cutting up, packing—for a mere teaspoon of tomato?

            But isn’t that what God and Jesus did for us?  For narrow is the gate, and straitened the way, that leads unto life, and few are they that find it. Matt 7:14.

            The Son of God, the Lord of Lords, the King of Kings, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Phil 2:6-8.  And he did that for a half—no!--for a more than half rotten tomato of a world.  He did that to save a remnant, a mere teaspoon of souls who would care enough to listen and obey the call. 

           Sometimes, by the end of the day, when my arms are aching, my fingers are nicked and the cuts burning from acidic tomato juice, my back and feet are killing me from standing for hours, and I am drenched with sweat from the steamy kitchen, I am ready to toss even the mostly good tomatoes, the ones with only a tiny bad spot, because it means extra work beyond a quick slice or two.  Aren’t you glad God did not feel that way about us?  It wasn’t just a half rotten world he came to save, it was a bunch of half rotten individuals in that world, of which you and I are just a few.
 
But what is God's reply to him? “I have kept for myself seven thousand men who have not bowed the knee to Baal.” So too at the present time there is a remnant, chosen by grace. Rom 11:4-5

Dene Ward

I have gotten lazy.  When I need a quick dessert, I pull a quart of blueberries out of the freezer, cut together a cup of flour, a cup of sugar, and a stick of butter, spread those crumbs on top of the blueberries in a baking dish and bake it for about 45 minutes.  Suddenly I have a warm, bubbly, fruity filling with a sweet crunchy topping for a minimum of work and mess in the kitchen.  While a pastry chef would not be impressed, for most people it’s just fine.

            But a blueberry pie?  Now that takes a commitment.  First you make the crust, a careful process of measuring, handling, rolling and fitting into the pie plate.  Then you make the filling, far more ingredients than a crisp and more careful measuring.  Then you have to deal with the top crust, rolling it, sealing it, crimping it, and preparing it for baking with a vent, a brush of milk and a sprinkling of sparkling sugar.  And the baking?  First ten minutes at 425, then another 35-45 at 350, carefully watching the top for over-browning and the vent for bubbling blueberries.  If they don’t bubble, it isn’t done yet no matter how brown the crust is.  So then you must lay some foil over the top so it won’t burn before it finishes baking.  It’s a real process.

            Then you look around the kitchen at the two mixing bowls, the many measuring cups and spoons, the wooden spoons, pastry cutter, and spatulas, the flour covered countertop, and often the floor as well.  It takes more than a minute to clean it up.  But which has the best combination of flavors and textures? Which one is more likely to get the oohs and aahs of company?  When I really want to do something nice for someone, and assuming time is not an issue, they get the pie.

            Too many of us make God settle for the crisp.  If it’s easy and convenient, God gets the service.  If I can still have my life the way I want it, with my own priorities in order, then fine—I am happy to be a Christian.  If it appeals to my sense of sweetness and light, and pats on the back rather than rebukes and chastening, if I receive tons of blessings and few if any trials, I am happy to do it.  Becoming a child of God means repentance, and repentance means I am sorry, right?  So I say I am and now I can go back to doing whatever I want to do.  Don’t expect any tears or humility.

            God will not accept me on those terms.  Nearly every gospel sermon you can find in the New Testament mentions repentance, but simply being sorry is not the repentance those preachers are talking about.  2 Kgs 22:19 says Josiah’s heart was tender and he humbled himself.  David says he acknowledged his sin and did not hide from God, Psa 32:5, and that God only accepts “a broken spirit and a broken and contrite heart,” Psa 51:17.  John told the crowds to “bring forth fruits worthy of repentance,” Matt 3:8, and Jeremiah reminded Old Testament Israel to “thoroughly amend” their ways, Jer 7:5. 

            Repentance is not cosmetic.  It is a complete change of heart and life, and a wholesale attitude adjustment when considering your lifestyle, its goals and purposes.  Paul commends the Corinthians for a repentance that “wrought care, indignation, fear, longing, zeal, avenging,” 2 Cor 7:11.  Commitment to God cannot come without that kind of repentance. 

            Repentance is the very key to conversion.  Once you repent in the way those Corinthians did, in the way the early Christians did, no one will be able to keep you from doing the rest because now everything has changed.  You will not argue about whether baptism is essential.  You will not argue about how many times you need to assemble with the saints.  You will not argue about whether something is “right” or “wrong” if there is any question at all, because you will have the zeal, the care, and the longing to do everything you possibly can to serve God. 

            What did you make for God when you became a Christian?  If you only gave him a blueberry crisp, it’s time to get out the mixing bowls and try again. 
 
If my people, who are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land, 2 Chron 7:14.  
 
Dene Ward

I had invited a couple of friends for lunch.  One in particular had been raving about a calzone I made for her a couple of years before.  So I promised her another.  I had bought everything from memory.  With the price of gas making one trip to town cost $8, I buy everything I need for the week on one day.

            Suddenly in the middle of the night I woke up and said to myself, “Cheese!”  I had forgotten the mozzarella and provolone.  How in the world can you even think of making what is basically a pizza turnover and forget the cheese?  It’s like planning to make brownies and forgetting the chocolate!

            We are no better when we try to be children of God and forget the basic elements. 

            The Pharisees thought that since they tithed even their herb seeds, they were good Jews.  They were certainly right to be so careful.  Every tithe of the land, whether of the seed of the land or of the fruit of the trees, is the LORD's; it is holy to the LORD. You shall tithe all the yield of your seed that comes from the field year by year, Lev 27:30; Deut 14:22.  Yet Jesus reminded them that they had left out “the weightier matters of the law, justice, mercy, and faithfulness” Matt 23:23.  How did they think they could be children of a just and merciful God and leave those things out?  It should have been unthinkable.

            John dealt with people who thought they could be followers of Christ and live immoral lives.  He was plain about their mistaken ideas.  Whoever says "I know him" but does not keep his commandments is a liar, and the truth is not in him, 1 John 2:4.  He reminded them of the same thing Jesus reminded the Pharisees.  How can you think you are a child of God if you don’t live by his rules?   No one born of God makes a practice of sinning, for God's seed abides in him, and he cannot keep on sinning because he has been born of God. By this it is evident who are the children of God, and who are the children of the devil: whoever does not practice righteousness is not of God, nor is the one who does not love his brother, I John 3:,9,10.  I don’t know about you, but I get really tired of famous athletes who wear crosses around their necks and “thank Jesus” before the cameras, but live like the Devil otherwise.   

            It’s time for all of us to stop trying to make calzones without the cheese.  You can’t pick and choose which commandments you want to follow and then claim to be an obedient and faithful child of God.   

            Children do not tell their parents which of the house rules they will and will not obey.  They are obedient to the parents in all things, and they understand that being a child of their own particular parents means certain things simply are or are not done if they want to stay faithful to the values of that home.  How many of us have said, “Your mother would roll over in her grave if she saw you do that?”  We understand what faithfulness to the spirit of the parent means, even if some specific idea is not spelled out in black and white.  Why are we so dense when we come to our dealings with God? 

            The next time you make your family’s favorite dish, using every single ingredient because you would hate to disappoint them, remember not to disappoint God either.
 
Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to visit the orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world. James 1:27 
 
Dene Ward

My back and feet were aching and my hands cramped from peeling by the time I finished.  The seals on the pint jars of apple butter popped and I started the clean-up of unused jars and lids, the large pot covered with sticky residue, and the measuring cups and spoons.  Finally it was over. 

            The apple tree had borne far more than ever before.  I had made several pies, a couple dozen muffins and a cake, and canned two dozen quarts of applesauce, a gallon of apple juice, a dozen pints of apple jelly, half a dozen quarts of apple pie filling, and finally a half dozen jars of apple butter.

            As I stood over a sink full of soapy water I muttered, “I hope I never see another apple as long as I live.”  The next spring my apple tree died.

            When it became apparent that we couldn’t save the tree, Keith looked at me and muttered something about not really knowing what that might mean—the fact that I could curse a tree and it up and die for no obvious reason so soon afterward.  Just exactly who, or what, was he married to?

            The county agent saved my reputation.  The tree was planted too close to an oak, he said.  Oaks carry a disease that kills fruit trees, especially apples and peaches.  Sure enough, we soon lost our peach tree too.

            All these years later, the story came up again, and with it a new perspective.  Here I had cursed a tree that bore too much, while the Lord cursed one that bore too little. 

            And seeing in the distance a fig tree in leaf, he went to see if he could find anything on it. When he came to it, he found nothing but leaves, for it was not the season for figs. And he said to it, "May no one ever eat fruit from you again." And his disciples heard it.  And as they passed by it in the morning, they saw the fig tree withered to its roots, Mark 11:13,14,20.

            You might do as I did at first and wonder why the Lord would expect to find figs when it wasn’t fig season.  Yet every commentator I read said that figs produce their fruit before they leaf out.  When the Lord saw a fig tree fully leafed out, he had every right to expect to see some fruit, even if it was small and green.  As a gardener I know that nearly every plant has at least one “early-riser”—a tomato or pepper or blueberry that ripens before the others.  Even if there was nothing ripe, there should have been plenty of fruit hanging there, gradually ripening on the leafy branches.

            Now how about us?  Is anything ripening on our branches?  Is the fruit of the Spirit perhaps still a little green, but nonetheless visible as we become more and more what he would have us be?  Or are we nothing but leafy show: lots of pretty clothes on Sunday morning but behavior like the rest of the world throughout the week?  Lots of talk in Bible class, but no good works in the community?  Quoting catchphrases to our neighbors, but never opening the Book in our own homes?  More concerned with winning arguments than winning souls?

            The Lord will come looking for figs in our lives, more than likely at a season in which we are not expecting him.  He told us we would recognize false teachers by their fruits (Matt 7:16-20).  What will he recognize about us from ours or will there even be any for him to see?
 
And so, from the day we heard, we have not ceased to pray for you, asking that you may be filled with the knowledge of his will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding, so as to walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to him, bearing fruit in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God, Col 1:9,10.
 
Dene Ward
             
 

If you are from north of the Mason-Dixon line, please don’t leave!  I have converted not only several children, but several Northerners to this Southern delicacy.  It’s all about taking the problems and turning them to your advantage--and being patient.

            The problem with okra, if you’ll pardon the expression, is the slime.  One reason it was used in gumbos was its thickening power, which is a nicer way of referring to that viscous property.  My family just calls it what it is.  It doesn’t bother them because they know what I can do with that--stuff.

            Follow these directions closely.  Use a colander, not a bowl, when you slice it.  You will still get the goo on your knife and a little on your hands—my method won’t fix that—but it will disappear when you cook it.

            Slice it about a half inch thick, discarding the stem end and the tails.  If it has been in the fridge a few days, it might need a little coaxing to release some of its “juices.”  If so, put that colander in the sink and scatter a few drops of water here and there from a wet hand.  Don’t deluge it.  If it’s already good and gooey, don’t bother.  Sprinkle it with salt, then with flour, not corn meal.  (My mother taught me that and we are both GRITS—Girls Raised In The South.)  Stir it to coat.  Now walk away.  In five minutes come back.  If it’s dry, do the water trick again, just a sprinkle.  Add more salt and more flour and stir it again.  Walk away again.  You may need to do this several times, allowing the excess flour to fall through the holes in the colander into the sink where you can wash it away—loose flour will burn in the bottom of a skillet. 

            After about fifteen minutes and maybe as many as five applications of flour and salt, the flour will have adhered to the “slime” and, magically, the okra will have made its own batter.  It will stick together in clumps like caramel corn, which is exactly what you want.

            Heat a half inch of vegetable oil in a skillet—no higher than medium high.  Put in one piece of okra and wait till it starts bubbling and sizzling.  Slowly add only as much okra as there is room in the pan.  Since it tends to stick together, you will need to mash it out to spread it around.  Now walk away and leave it again.  No fiddling with it, no turning it, no stirring it. 

            In about ten minutes you will begin to see browning around the edges.  When that happens you can start turning it.  The second side will brown faster, as will the entire second batch.  Watch your oil; you may need to turn it down if the browning begins to happen too quickly.  Drain it on paper towels. 

            You will now have the crunchiest okra you ever ate.  No slime, no weird flavor, nothing but crunch.  You cannot eat this with a fork—it rolls off, or if you try to stab it, it shatters.  This is Southern finger food, a delicacy we eat at least twice every summer before we start pickling it or giving it away.  Too much fried food is not healthy they tell us, but everyone needs a lube job once in awhile.

            The trick to that okra is patiently using the problem itself to overcome it—given enough time, that slime makes a batter that is better than anything you could whip up on your own with half a dozen ingredients.

            Patience is a virtue for Christians too, not just cooks.  How do you make it through suffering?  You patiently endure it (2 Cor 1:6), and you remember its purpose and use it for that purpose.  Patiently enduring suffering will make you a joint-heir with Christ (Rom 8:17,18).  It will make you worthy of the kingdom (2 Thes 1:4,5).  If we suffer with him, we will reign with him (2 Tim 2:12).  Only those who share in his suffering will share in his comfort (2 Cor 1:7). 

            But none if this works if you don’t patiently endure the suffering.  If you give up, you lose.  If you turn against God, he will turn against you.  If you refuse the fellowship of Christ’s suffering, he will refuse you.  We must use that suffering to make ourselves stronger and worthy to be his disciple. Just like I am happy to have a particularly “slimy” bowl of okra to worth with, knowing it will produce the crunch I want, the early Christians “rejoiced that they were counted worthy to suffer,” Acts 5:41.  They knew it would make them better disciples of their Lord.  We can understand these things when it comes to something as mundane as fried okra.  Why can’t we recognize it in far more important matters?  We even have a trite axiom about this—when life gives you lemons, make lemonade.  When life gives you trials, make yourself a stronger person.

            After suffering, Peter promises that God will restore, confirm, strengthen and establish us (1 Pet 5:10).  He is talking to those who endure, who use the suffering to their advantage and become better people.  Remind yourself of the promises God gives to those who suffer.  Remind yourself of the rewards.  Remind yourself every day that it’s worth it.  The New Testament writers did, so it is no shame if you do it too.
 
The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs--heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him. For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. Rom 8:16-18.
 
Dene Ward

Anyone who knows me knows that my favorite television cook is Ina Garten of “The Barefoot Contessa.”  I have saved very few recipes from the Food Channel, but of the few I have, the vast majority is hers. 

            One of my favorites is her “Ultimate Ginger Cookie.”  This is just about my favorite cookie ever, which is saying a lot for a cookie that doesn’t have chocolate in it.  It’s a chewy cookie, something else I like, and I have added my own little twist by rolling the balls of dough in sparkling sugar before baking them.  But what makes it “ultimate?”  Not only does it have powdered ginger in it, but also over half a cup of chopped crystallized ginger.  There is no question what kind of cookie this is—it’s a ginger cookie.

            I have several recipes with that word “ultimate” in the title.  My “Ultimate Chocolate Chip Cookie” is good too.  Not only does it have half again more chocolate chips than the usual recipe, but two kinds, bittersweet and milk chocolate.  My “Ultimate Fudge Brownie” is maximum chocolate with minimal flour.  My “Ultimate Peanut Butter Cookie” has no flour at all—just gobs of peanut butter, eggs, sugar and vanilla.  Do you get the picture?  “Ultimate” in a recipe means “a lot,” “more than usual,” and “well above average.”  “Ultimate” means there is no question what kind of cookie this is.

            I started thinking about the word “Christian” in that context.  Technically speaking, the word means “a disciple of Christ.”  That is not the way we use it today.  “Christian” gets tacked on to anything that is even remotely religious.  People can claim to be Christians just because they believe in a few of the Ten Commandments, which in itself is ironic when you understand the relationship of Christ to the Old Law.  In our vernacular, Christians do not even have to be members of a church.

            To keep that from rubbing off on us, maybe we should start thinking in terms of recipes.  We should be “Ultimate Christians.”  If we are really followers of Christ we should be different from those who merely claim the name with a few allusions to prayer and God in their vocabulary.

            Real disciples of Christ, by the definition of the word “disciple,” are trying to be as much like their teacher as possible.  They talk like he does and behave like he does.  They know what commitment means—they serve as he did, sacrifice as he did, and fight the Devil like he did every day of his life.  In fact, they are not afraid to acknowledge the devil as a real and dangerous being (like He did), even when others laugh at them for doing so.  They condemn hypocrisy, especially among those who try to claim the same discipleship. They abhor sin, yet seek the vilest sinners in their own environment, knowing they are the ones who need their Master the most.  They have compassion on the ill, the hated, and the lost.  They will yield their lives to their Teacher by yielding their rights to others.  They live by the Word of God, take comfort in the Spirit of God, and glory in their fellowship with them.  In every decision, every event, and every aspect of their lives, they ask themselves how their Lord would have handled it.  They are completely consumed with the spiritual; nothing else matters.

            So, the question today is are we Christians in the modern vernacular, or are we real Christians, “Ultimate Christians?”  Maybe if more of us started showing the world what the word “Christian” really means, we could stop making distinctions. 
 
Whoever says he abides in him ought to walk in the same way in which he walked...A disciple is not above his teacher, but everyone when he is fully trained will be like his teacher, 1 John 2:6; Luke 6:40.
 
For the recipe accompanying this post, click > Dene's Recipes page 

Dene Ward