I had heard of “Dutch cocoa” for a long time, assuming it was a special kind made in the Netherlands.  I finally discovered that “dutch” has nothing to do with its origin.  “Dutching” is a process which removes some of the acid from the cocoa, supposedly enhancing its browning ability and making the chocolate flavor more pronounced.  I found some a few years ago and proceeded to make all my usual chocolate recipes, expecting them to be transformed into something even more wonderful than before.  I was disappointed.  Everything turned nearly black, looking and tasting exactly like Oreos.  Aha!  At least I had discovered that Nabisco uses dutched cocoa to give those iconic cookies their signature flavor and color.
 
           I am afraid that, at least in this area, I remain plebeian and unrefined.  I do not want my Mississippi Mud Cake, my Texas Sheet Cake, my Wellesley Fudge Cake, nor even my plain old fudge brownies to taste like Oreos.  And the frosting on a chocolate cake should never be darker than the cake—it is just not right somehow.

            I find that is the way I feel about a lot of things.  Dumplings should be flat, not puffy, waterlogged biscuits; cookies should be chewy or crisp, never cakey; and tea should be sweet, not bitter, while coffee should be black, not sweet. 

            And in the spiritual arena, Bible classes should be classes.  I need to attend with a mindset to learn, not to show off how much I already know.  Would we ever allow our children to teach their own classes from their desks?  Yet for some reason we think that those old “read a verse and comment” classes are great.  The more people talk, the better the class, some say, when often the opposite is true.  When one verse is divorced from its context, all sorts of strange concepts arise.  The more people talk, the more confused the babes in Christ may become.  And really, shouldn’t what the teacher has spent hours preparing be far better than anything any of us can come up with off the cuff?  Discussion is one thing; allowing the students to teach the class is quite another.

            The word “class” necessarily involves hearing something new, or at least challenging.  It may mean I have to think deeper thoughts than usual, that I may actually need to go home and study on my own to fully appreciate what I have been told.  Yikes!  I might actually need to put in a little more effort than sitting on a pew for an hour.

            In the same vein, sermons should be sermons, not Rotary Club talks.  Once again that involves the idea of being challenged to be a better person, to change some area of my life, even, perhaps, to admit wrong at least to myself and God.  Can’t have that, can we?  Why, someone might be offended.  If no one ever goes away offended (in our use of the term, not the Bible’s), I think it is a safe bet that a real sermon has never been preached.  “Thou art the man,” is difficult to say without someone knowing he is being confronted.

            So stop expecting Oreos where there should be none.  They are fine in their place, usually with a glass of milk at the kitchen table, but don’t put them on the menu at a four star restaurant.   

            We should feel that way whenever anyone tries to insult our intelligence with Bible classes that are not classes and sermons that are not sermons.  We should want the pure, unadulterated word of God “in season and out of season,” which translates, “whether we want to hear it or not,” whether it is easy or not, and we should want to go deeper and deeper, applying it in our lives, finally transforming us into what God would have us be. 
 
And they read in the book, in the law of God, distinctly; and they gave the sense, so that they understood the reading.  And all the people went their way to eat and to drink, and to send portions and to make great mirth, because they had understood the words that were declared unto them, Neh 8:8,12.
 
Dene Ward

Have you finished the leftover turkey marathon yet?  Turkey pot pie, turkey divan, turkey enchiladas, turkey soup, turkey salad, and anything else that will use up a good-sized portion of that leftover bird.  It seems they all have something in common—some sort of sauce, gravy, or broth to make the endlessly heated up, dried out meat palatable.  If you like turkey leftovers, it is not the turkey you like—it is what the turkey becomes, a new dish with flavorful moist ingredients that fill you up and satisfy your hunger.  You can only reheat unadorned meat so many times before it turns into sawdust.

           While my family enjoys leftover turkey dishes, God most emphatically does not like leftovers. 

            If you are a gardener, you understand the concept of first-fruits.  The first pickings, like the first serving of turkey, are always the best.  By the end of the summer the beans are tough, the corn is starchy, the squash is wormy, and the tomatoes are small and hard or half-rotten.  That is why you doll them up in casseroles and sauces.  I always make the tomato sauce in July.  The June tomatoes are ripe, sweet and juicy, far too good to turn into sauce.

            God has always expected the first-fruits from His people. The first of the first-fruits of your ground you shall bring into the house of Jehovah your God, Ex 23:19.  He expected the first-fruits of everything to be given to His servants, the priests, who waited on Him night and day, And this shall be the priests' due from the people, from them that offer a sacrifice, whether it be ox or sheep, that they shall give unto the priest the shoulder, and the two cheeks, and the maw. The first-fruits of your grain, of your new wine, and of your oil, and the first of the fleece of your sheep, shall you give him, Deut 18:3,4.

            The Israelites in Malachi’s day discovered exactly how God felt about offerings that were less than the best.  You offer polluted bread upon my altar. And you say, Wherein have we polluted you? In that you say, The table of Jehovah is contemptible. And when you offer the blind for sacrifice, it is no evil! And when you offer the lame and sick, it is no evil! Present it now to your governor; will he be pleased with you? Or will he accept you? says Jehovah of hosts, Mal 1:7,8..

            We usually cite these verses when it comes time to put money in the plate.  Certainly we should be planning ahead, “purposing in our hearts” what we will give to God, rather than reaching for the leftover change in our pockets.  But what about the rest of our “offerings?”

            Too many of us give God our leftover time.  Rather than planning to pray and study, scheduling time in the week to care for our brothers and sisters in need, and putting our assemblies at the top of our agendas, we wait till we have finished what we consider necessary, then look to see if we can give any time and energy to God.  Usually it is too late, or we are too tired, or something else that really cannot be rescheduled takes the last few minutes of our day.  If there is time, we are tired, our energy flagging and our concentration poor.  No wonder some of the children I have taught in Bible classes treat the concept of a family Bible study as something unheard of.  No wonder the adults in Bible classes sit close-mouthed with little to offer to edify their brothers and sisters, or spout out something that even a quick study of scripture would prove to be wrong.

            It only makes sense for us to give God our best.  God has given us His best too, an only begotten Son, the firstfruits of them that are asleep, 1 Cor 15:20, as a hope of the resurrection.

            God not only expects us to give our first-fruits, he expects us to be one. Of his own will he brought us forth by the word of truth, that we should be a kind of firstfruits of his creatures, James 1:18.  Maybe that is the problem—our lives do not match the concept.  Instead, we are the blemished fruit, the tough, small, wormy, and half-rotten.  How can we give God anything else when that is all we have to offer?  This business of leftover offerings covers far more than the collection plate, far more than we would like to believe.

            Turkey leftovers are one thing.  They have a place, especially in the lives of those trying to be good stewards of their blessings.  But leftovers in my service to God might as well be fed to the dog.
 
Honor Jehovah with your substance, and with the first-fruits of all your increase: So shall your barns be filled with plenty, and your vats shall overflow with new wine, Prov 3:8,9.
 
Dene Ward

The other day I was talking with a friend who loves to cook as much as I do.  We both spoke of how much more fun it is to cook for people who were not picky eaters.  When all that effort sits in the bowls and platters on the table with scarcely a dent made in them because this one prefers this and that one prefers that, it is hard not to be offended.  The very fact that I know so many more picky eaters these days than I did as a child emphasizes how wealthy this society has become.  Hungry people are not picky eaters.

            Real hunger is not a concept we understand.  We eat by the clock instead of by our stomachs, which may be the biggest reason so many of us are overweight.  If we only ate when we were truly hungry, would we eat too much on a regular basis?  A celebratory feast, which used to happen only once or twice or year, has become a weekly, if not daily, occurrence for many.

            And because we do not understand true physical hunger, we cannot understand Jesus’ blessing upon those who hunger and thirst after righteousness.  We think being willing to sit through one sermon a week makes us worthy, when that is probably the shallowest application of that beatitude.  We don’t want a spiritual feast.  We want something light, with fewer calories, requiring little effort to eat.  In fact, sometimes we want to be fed too.  Spiritual eating has become too much trouble.

            How many of us skip Bible classes?  How many daydream during the sermons, plan the afternoon ahead, even text message each other?  If more than one adult class is offered on Sunday mornings, how many choose the one that requires more study or deeper thinking?  When extra classes are offered during the week, what percentage of the church actually chooses to attend?  How many of us are actively pursuing our own studies at home, studies beyond that needed for the Sunday morning class?  If we won’t even eat the meals especially prepared for us by others, how in the world will be seek righteousness on our own and how will we ever progress past simple Bible study in satisfying our spiritual hunger?

            Picky eaters suddenly become omnivores when they really need to eat.  For some reason we think we can fast from spiritual food and still survive.  Amazing how we can deceive ourselves so easily. 

            So, what’s on your menu today, or have you even planned one?
 
Oh how love I your law! It is my meditation all the day. Your commandments make me wiser than my enemies; for they are ever with me. I have more understanding than all my teachers; for your testimonies are my meditation. I understand more than the aged, because I have kept your precepts. I have refrained my feet from every evil way, that I might observe your word. I have not turned aside from your ordinances; for You have taught me. How sweet are your words to my taste! sweeter than honey to my mouth! Through your precepts I get understanding: therefore I hate every false way. Psalm 119:97-104.
 
Dene Ward

I grew up watching my mother make her own pie crust.  It never crossed my mind that might be unusual, that there were convenience products, including ready-made pie crusts, at the grocery store.  So I was thoroughly spoiled as a child.  Homemade pie crust was all I ever had.

            Unfortunately, I married and moved a thousand miles away without getting that recipe and the special instructions that probably went along with it.  I lived closer to my in-laws then and, as luck would have it, they had owned a small town bakery, so I asked them for their recipe.  What I got was a ratio; otherwise I would have wound up with a recipe beginning, “fifty pounds of flour…”  It went like this:  half as much shortening as flour, half as much water as shortening.

            It took a few years, but I finally got the hang of it.  I also discovered the proper ratio of salt (a scant teaspoon per two cups of flour), the advantage of ice water rather than plain tap water (it makes the crust flakier), and the need to handle the dough as little as possible if you want to be able to eat it instead of use it as a Frisbee.

            I still have a little difficulty passing this recipe along.  You see, flour changes according to the humidity.  If it has soaked up moisture from the air, it will take less water.  How do you tell?  By the way it feels.  How does it feel?  Here the problem lies.  When everything is right, it feels right, that’s how you tell.  But how does “right” feel?  It feels like pie crust dough that is “right.”  There is no way to describe it if you haven’t ever put your hands in it before.

            The same thing happens when I am trying to help a person with just about any recipe—biscuits, cookie dough, cake batter, gravy, cream sauce—when it’s right, you know it.  In fact, when teaching someone to make gravy or béchamel, I have to take the spoon from them into my hand and give it a stir so I can feel it in order to really know.  That’s why I never make my pastry crust in a food processor—I can’t feel it! 

            The trick is to do it over and over and over for years.  That’s how you know what “right” is.  Yes, you must have a good recipe, but even a good recipe can turn out wrong if you are not familiar with it.

            Do you want to know how to avoid false doctrine?  It has nothing to do with studying every possible false teaching out there.  You would have no time for it.  What you do is study the real thing over and over and over for years.  Then when the false one comes along it won’t feel quite the same, and you will suddenly catch yourself saying, “Unh, unh.  Something’s not right here.”  Because you are so familiar with what “right” is, you will have far less trouble seeing what “wrong” is.

            Learning the facts may seem formalistic.  It may seem like our religion is lacking some “heart.”  Don’t be so quick to judge.  Some of the people most likely to be taken captive by false prophets are those who love the whir and excitement of “food processor” religion.  “Wow!  Look at it go.  Look how fast it comes together.  This must surely be the real thing.”  It is certainly more rousing than watching someone cut a cup of shortening into 2 cups of flour with a handheld pastry blender, up and down, over and over, for several tedious minutes.  But that food processor religion is more likely to be tough and overworked or wet and hard to handle, while the handmade religion will separate into flaky layers of depth, and rival the filling itself for the starring role. 

            There is no short cut for this kind of experience.  If it takes years of handling pastry crust to reach this level of comfortable, secure familiarity, God’s word certainly won’t be any easier, but what should we expect?  God didn’t write pulp fiction.
 
And this I pray that your love may abound yet more and more in knowledge and all discernment; so that you may distinguish the things that differ; that you may be sincere and void of offence unto the day of Christ; being filled with the fruits of righteousness, which are through Jesus Christ, unto the glory and praise of God, Phil 1:9-11.
 
Dene Ward

            I just made a chocolate mousse cake.  This is one of THOSE recipes—you know, one of those trendy kinds you find in upscale restaurants, the kind that come with a chocolate or raspberry swirl on the white china plate, a piped dollop of whipped cream on the side and maybe even a shard of caramel “glass” sticking up out of it.  This recipe is bound to get me oohs and aahs at the table from excited guests who suddenly think I must be a gourmet cook.  And that’s when I start feeling guilty.  Why?  Because this conglomeration of bittersweet chocolate, butter, eggs, brown sugar, and vanilla took me exactly 15 minutes to put together and throw in the oven.  The only thing hard about it is waiting 8 hours for it to chill so it won’t fall completely apart when you try to cut it.

            I don’t deserve any oohs and aahs and it certainly wasn’t hard to do.  I will grant you that it tastes amazing—but look at that ingredient list above and tell me how it could not.  I have absolutely nothing to do with how it tastes unless I buy cheap ingredients—like Hershey bars and margarine.  Taking a bow for producing this cake is like claiming a cordon bleu culinary education when all you’ve had is watching your mother and grandmother and reading a few cookbooks.

            Have you ever had a friend ask you how you do it?  How you go through some of the trials you have been through, yet live a happy and contented life, in fact, a life of joy and faith?    What do you instantly say?  Do you claim huge inner strength and unimpeachable character?  Do you talk about your spiritual integrity?  Of course not.  You tell them that you had nothing to do with it except having the sense, or maybe the desperation, to take your Heavenly Father’s offer and let Him handle things.

            And it was just that simple, wasn’t it?  No, not really.  A lot of time passed before it really “took,” before you really could face your demons with assurance instead of doubt, before you could race toward that “way of escape” instead of stumbling through it, before you could sit back and let God be in control and accept His will instead of trying to figure things out so you could understand them. 

            It takes a long time to say those words Abraham said on that mountaintop 4000 years ago--God is able; God will provide.  But once you have reached that point, it’s just that simple.  Every time life hands you the inexplicable, you don’t try to understand, you just count on God to handle it.  How can anyone take the credit for that?
 
Both riches and honor come from you, and you rule over all. In your hand are power and might, and in your hand it is to make great and to give strength to all. And now we thank you, our God, and praise your glorious name, 1Chr 29:12-13

Dene Ward

Unfortunately, I have a sweet tooth.  I have never understood rail thin women who complain about a dessert being, “too sweet,” “too rich,” and certainly not, “too big.”  That probably explains why I am not rail thin.
  
          I had a good excuse for making desserts with two active boys in the house.  Their favorites were plain, as desserts go—blueberry pie, apple pie, Mississippi mud cake, and any kind of cheesecake.  Nowadays, since there are only two of us and we two do not need a whole lot of sweets, desserts are usually for special occasions, and so they have gotten a little more “special” too.  Coconut cake with lime curd filling and coconut cream cheese frosting; chocolate fudge torte with chocolate ganache filling, dark chocolate frosting, and peanut butter ganache trim, garnished with dry roasted peanuts; lemon sour cream cake with lemon filling and lemon cream cheese frosting; and a peanut butter cup cheesecake piled with chopped peanut butter cups and drizzled with hot fudge sauce; all these have found their way into my repertoire and my heart. 

            But one thing I have never done is feed my family on dessert alone.  Dessert is for later, after you eat your vegetables, after the whole grain, high fiber, high protein meals, after you’ve taken your vitamins and minerals.  Everyone knows that, except perhaps children, and I would have been a bad mother had I given in to their desires instead of doing what was best for them. 

            So why do we expect God to feed us nothing but dessert?  Why do we think life must always be easy, fun, and exciting?  Why is it that the only time I say, “God is good,” is when I get what I want?

            God is good even when He makes me eat my vegetables, when I have to choke down the liver, and guzzle the V8.  God is good when I undergo trials and misfortunes. God is good even when the devil tempts me sorely.  He knows what is best for me, what will make me strong and able to endure, and, ultimately, He knows that living a physical life on this physical earth forever is not in my best interests.

            Eating nothing but cake and pie and pastries will create a paradox—an obese person who is starving to death, unable to grow and become strong.  God knows what we need and gives it to us freely and on a daily basis.  He doesn’t fill us up with empty spiritual calories.  He doesn’t give us just dessert.  Truly, God is good.
 
Rejoice the soul of your servant, for unto you O Lord, do I lift up my soul.  For you Lord are good, and ready to forgive and abundant in lovingkindness unto all them who call upon you.  There is none like you among the gods, O Lord, neither any works like your works.  All nations whom you have made shall come and worship before you, O Lord, and they shall glorify your name.  For you are great and do wondrous things.  You are God alone, Psa 86:4,5,8-10.
 
Dene Ward

I bet you have some of those recipes yourself—Hawaiian pizza, nacho cheese stuffed shells, Mexican lasagna, spinach and feta calzones.  It may not be an upscale restaurant’s version of fusion cooking, but for most of us it’s as close as it gets.  Italian cuisine mixed with Mexican, Greek mixed with Asian, French with Thai, anything to put a little variety in the weeknight meals.  And for many of us, they become some of the family’s favorite dishes.  When the flavors don’t clash but meld together beautifully, the whole dish is improved.

            Isn’t that the way the church is supposed to work?  God never meant us to gather in monochromatic assemblies.  He never meant for one ethnic or economic group to position itself higher in the pecking order as the more learned, the more spiritual, the more zealous.  The prophets prophesied a multi-cultural kingdom.  It shall come to pass in the latter days that the mountain of the house of the LORD shall be established as the highest of the mountains, and shall be lifted up above the hills; and all the nations shall flow to it, and many peoples shall come, and say: “Come, let us go up to the mountain of the LORD, to the house of the God of Jacob, that he may teach us his ways... Isa 2:2-3. 

            Even as far back as Abraham God promised, “In thy seed shall all nations of the earth be blessed,” Gen 22:17.  Not one nation, not two, but all.  When you read the book of Genesis and watch God funnel his choice down to one people, then in the New Testament see that funnel turned upside down to include salvation for all in the fulfillment of that promise, you cannot possibly exclude anyone and still show a true appreciation for God’s plan. 

            And you cannot make yourself better than any other without annulling grace.  For in Christ Jesus neither circumcision nor uncircumcision counts for anything, but only faith working through love, Gal 5:6.

            “God is no respecter of persons,” Peter said to Cornelius, and even he had to learn that lesson and teach it to others.  And the struggle went on for years.  Have we not in two millennia finally figured this out?  Even Jesus began the process when he chose Simon the Zealot and Matthew the publican.  If ever two people, even of the same race, could be polar opposites in ideology, it was these two, but they overcame their biases and went on to work peaceably and respectfully together to conquer the world for their Lord—the whole world, not just one race.

            Who are you teaching?  Who are you welcoming into your assemblies?  Who puts their feet under your table and holds your hands during the prayer of thanksgiving for the meal?

            A long time ago, my little boys wanted some friends to stay overnight and go to school with them in the morning.  “We’ll tell the teachers they are our cousins.” 

We adults looked at one another and smiled.  These playmates were black and my boys were about as fair-skinnedl as they come.  Their father shook his head and said, “I don’t think that will work.”

In all innocence and sincerity they asked, “Why not?”

Finally Keith looked at the father and said, “We’re brothers, aren’t we?  So I guess that makes them cousins after all.”

Would that we could all be as color-blind as an innocent child, as color blind as the Lord who died for all.

For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. And if you are Christ's, then you are Abraham's offspring, heirs according to promise, Gal 3:27-29.

Dene Ward

            If you are a gardener, you have probably made your fair share of zucchini bread.  We quit growing zucchini a long time ago.  We prefer yellow summer squash instead.  At least it has a little flavor.  But it also works for zucchini bread, and I have found a way to make that little loaf that is actually worth baking.

            Most zucchini (or squash) bread is compact and dense, and just about flavorless.  Try this instead.  Cut the amount of oil almost in half.  Use brown sugar instead of white granulated, and at least double the cinnamon.  If you use nuts, toast them first.  Then here is the big trick—put all that grated zucchini in a dish towel and squeeze as hard as you can.  You will get anywhere from ½ to 1 cup of water out of that squash.  No wonder the loaf was flavorless. It was literally washed out.

            Now you will have a lighter loaf that is still plenty moist and actually has some flavor instead of that compact brick that hardly rises above the top of the pan.  In fact, you won’t mind serving this one to guests, and they won’t run away and hide when you mention it either.

            Modern organized religion has suffered the same fate as that old zucchini bread recipe.  It is literally washed out from all the additions men have made.  Just as schools are now expected to teach the things that parents should teach at home, churches are expected to right the social injustices in this world and support every worthy cause in manpower and money.  You can read the New Testament from Matthew to Revelation and never find half the things found in a modern denomination.  But then these are the same people who, like the Jews of Jesus’ day, expect a physical kingdom on this earth.  They’ve stopped hoping for Heaven and settled for a poor imitation on this earth.

            My kingdom is not of this world, Jesus said, John 18:36.  Jeremiah prophesied that no one from the lineage of Jeconiah (the kingly line of Judah through David) would ever sit on the throne reigning in Jerusalem, despite the beliefs of thousands of dispensationalists, Jer 22:31.  The work of the church is not about feeding the hungry—it’s about feeding the soul.  It’s not about making sure everyone has a fair shake in this life—it’s about enduring that injustice and preparing ourselves to be fit for the next life.  Check this out yourself:  churches that are sold on the social gospel no longer preach much about heaven.  To them this life is what matters and that’s why they are so hung up on it.  That’s why their religion is so waterlogged with extraneous rituals and activities.  That’s why so many of the “un-churched” are turned off by the dense brick of bread they are handed instead of the bread of life.

            Get out your Bibles and examine your church against the one in the New Testament.  Look through Acts and see how they converted sinners.  Here’s a hint:  it wasn’t with soup kitchens and Wednesday night potlucks.  Now look through the epistles and see the work they did.  It had nothing to do with gymnasiums and playgrounds.  See what they did when they met together for a formal group worship.  It wasn’t about entertainment.  Now maybe you can see the difference between an oily sodden brick of bread and a light flavorful loaf that actually appeals to the appetite.

            But then maybe it’s your appetite that is the problem in the first place. 

Jesus answered them and said, Verily, verily, I say unto you, You seek me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate of the loaves, and were filled.  Work not for the food which perishes, but for the food which abides unto eternal life, which the Son of man shall give unto you: for him the Father, even God, hath sealed, John 6:26-27.

Dene Ward