Potlucks are a staple in the south.  As a born and bred Southerner I would be inclined to say we do it the best except for one thing—I lived in the Midwest for a couple of years early in our marriage, and they can put on a pretty good feed, too.  At nearly every potluck I beg for recipes, and I still have a few I begged from my Illinois days.  After all, pork is king in the Midwest just like it is down here in the South.  Anything with bacon is good.
            There are unwritten rules about potlucks.  We could probably go on for a page or two about that.  But the one that everyone knows, even if they won't say it out loud, is that if they come to eat, they had better bring something, too.  You know that is so because when you try to invite a visitor who didn't know about it ahead of time and, thus, has nothing to contribute, you have to practically get down on your knees and beg them to come, telling them there is always plenty, because there always is.
            We have a potluck every Sunday morning—not with literal food, but spiritual.  And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near (Heb 10:24-25).  When I hear someone say they got nothing out of the services, I want to ask if they brought anything to share.  You don't come to services and pull up to your pew like to a gas pump and expect to get filled up while you just sit by and do nothing yourself.  We are supposed to be paying attention to one another, deciding how best to encourage and edify one another, to stir one another up to perform good deeds when we leave.  Exactly how does sitting there considering yourself, and yourself only, accomplish any of that?  And why does just entering the doors give us the right to taste everyone else's meal and judge whether it meets our own preferences while giving back nothing in return for others to consider?
            I Corinthians 14 is one of the few places that discusses an assembly of the first century church.  Yes, it discusses spiritual gifts primarily, but it must be in there for us to learn something from.  Notice, when they came together, "each one" brought something—a hymn, a lesson, a revelation, a tongue, an interpretation.  And because everyone brought something there were rules for how to share them, beginning and ending with this purpose:  Let all things be done unto edifying.  If you have a tongue, but there is no interpreter, keep silent, because no one will be edified.  If two or three of you have a prophecy, take turns one at a time while the others keep silent—no one can hear the message and be edified if you are all speaking at once.  It's common sense, really, but it also tells us again that everyone brought something to the assembly to share.  The vocal traffic jam proves that. 
            This week try worrying more about what you have to offer than what you think you should "get" out of the services.  Start preparing your "dish" now for this coming Sunday.  It might be a word of encouragement to the weak.  It might be service to a young mother who is overwhelmed so she can hear a sermon for once.  It might involve making a list during the announcements of all those you need to contact with cards, phone calls, or visits during the upcoming week.  It might mean sharing things you know of so others can serve as well.  You are required to take something to the potluck if you hope to enjoy the resulting feast in return.
 
Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear (Eph 4:29).

Dene Ward

Today we had a Caribbean dinner—jerk grilled chicken breasts with tropical salsa, and sautéed sweet potato cakes.  We are not much for spicy food so making my own jerk seasoning is a bonus—I can cut the red pepper in half.  As for the salsa, one tiny red jalapeno, seeded, ribbed, and finely diced, was plenty with the mango, pineapple, avocado, and onion.

              Ah, but those jalapenos do leave their mark.  Ordinarily I wash my hands half a dozen times during the course of cooking dinner, but I had finished with the raw chicken, the creamy avocado, and the sweet, slick mango so I hadn't washed them again after dicing that pepper and never even thought about it.

              After dinner we made our usual after-dinner-before-dishes walk to survey our little realm.  Keith absently reached down and held my hand.  Then he just as absently reached up with that same hand and scratched his eyelid.  At least it was his lid.  About the same time Chloe came up behind me and licked my dangling hand.  The next thing I knew Keith had a clean cloth up to dab his running eye and Chloe was at the water bucket lapping as quickly as she could.  I came inside and washed my hands immediately.

              We are often just as clueless as I was today about the influence we have on others.  One word, one thoughtless act, even one look can have repercussions that last for days, or weeks, or even years.  Paul reminded the Corinthians that "a little leaven leavens the whole lump" and told Timothy that the words of two specific men "eat like gangrene" (1 Cor 5:6; 2 Tim 2:17).

              The prevalent attitude I hear, even among brothers and sisters, is "That's their problem."  No.  God makes it plain that it is my problem when my influence causes others to fall.  Therefore, if food makes my brother stumble, I will never eat meat, lest I make my brother stumble. (1Cor 8:13)  And whosoever shall cause one of these little ones that believe on me to stumble, it were better for him if a great millstone were hanged about his neck, and he were cast into the sea. (Mark 9:42)

               It's time we grew up and realized our responsibility to others.  We will be judged for every "idle word," Jesus says.  That's a word we said without thought, without concern for others, without owning up to our responsibility for every little thing that escapes our tongues.  James says "Be…slow to speak…" not because you are slow-witted but because I am actually taking the time to consider what I am about to say before it's too late.  Sounds like an excellent reason to shut up once in a while, especially if I am prone to talk just to hear myself talk.  ​When words are many, transgression is not lacking, but whoever restrains his lips is prudent. (Prov 10:19)

               Don't forget to wash the jalapenos off your hands.
 
And he said to his disciples, “Temptations to sin are sure to come, but woe to the one through whom they come!  Luke 17:11

Dene Ward                                                                                              

I just pitted two pounds of fresh cherries.  I knew there was a reason I liked blueberries better.
            Even with a handy-dandy little cherry pitter, it is still quite a chore.  You have to do them one at a time, well over a hundred, and sometimes the pit does not come out the first try.  You have to fiddle with the cherry until you get it in there just right—so the little plunger will go right through the center.  Then there is the clean-up as some of those wayward pits bounce across the counter and floor, staining everything cherry red.
            Not worth it you say?  You have obviously never had a cherry pie made with anything but canned cherry pie filling!  Some things are worth the trouble.  Like children.  Like marriage.  Like living according to God’s rules.
            Satan will do everything in his power to make it seem otherwise.  He will tell you his reward here and now is greater, like a ready-made store-bought pie.  He will tell you that God’s reward is mediocre, like a pie you can have in the oven in 10 minutes with canned filling and refrigerated pie crust.  He will tell you God’s reward does not even exist, that there is no such thing as a pie with a homemade crust and fresh cherries—it’s all an illusion.  Everyone knows pies come in a box in the freezer case!
            But God’s reward is real; it is better than anything this life and that Enemy have to offer.  It takes some effort.  Sometimes we fail and have to try again.  Sometimes people make fun of us.  Sometimes we work till our backs ache and our fingers cramp up, but when you put God’s reward on the window sill to cool, everyone knows it was worth it.  Even the ones who won’t get to taste it. 
 
Blessed are you when men shall hate you, and when they shall separate you from their company, and reproach you, and cast out your name as evil, for the Son of man’s sake.  Rejoice in that day, and leap for joy, for behold, great is your reward in Heaven.
So that men shall say, “Truly there is a reward for the righteous; truly there is a God who judges the earth.” Luke 6:22,23; Psa 58:11

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
 

Some have called eggs the perfect food with their own perfect container.  I recently heard a TV cook say they are “hermetically sealed.”  Eggshells themselves are stronger than their reputation says.  After all, birds sit on them for days, and it takes a good deal of effort for a baby bird to peck its way out of one.
            However, it doesn’t take more than one instance of carelessness to discover just how easily they will break.  Mine usually make it home from the grocery store in one piece, in spite of being placed in a cooler with a couple of bags of groceries and an ice block, and then traveling thirty miles, the last half mile over a bumpy lime rock lane.  Only once in nearly 30 years have I opened my cooler to find eggs that have tumbled out and cracked all over the other groceries.
            You must also be careful where you put them on the counter.  Most recipes require ingredients at room temperature, so I take the butter and eggs out a half hour or more before I plan to use them.  I quickly learned to put them in a small bowl so they couldn’t possibly roll off the countertop onto the floor, even if I did think I had them safely corralled by other ingredients.  Somehow they only roll when you turn your back.  As I recall, that recipe required a lot of eggs, and suddenly I was short a couple.
            Because of their relative fragility, we have developed the idiom “walking on eggshells.”  When the situation is tricky, when someone is already on a short fuse, we tread carefully with our words, as if we were walking carefully, trying not to break the eggshells under our feet.  Sometimes that is a good thing.  No one wants to hurt a person who has just experienced a tragedy.  No one wants to carelessly bring up a topic that might hinder the growth of a babe in Christ.  Certainly no one wants to put out a spark of interest in the gospel.          
            But sometimes the need to walk on eggshells is a shame, especially when the wrong people have to walk on them.
            I suppose every congregation has one of those members who gives everyone pause; one who has hot buttons you do your best not to push;  one who seems to take offense at the most innocuous statements or actions.  The shame of it is this:  in nearly every case I can remember, that person is over 50, and most over 60.  “You know old brother so-and-so,” everyone will tell newcomers.  “You have to be careful what you say around him.”  Why is it that younger Christians must negotiate minefields around an older Christian who should have grown in wisdom and forbearance?
            Do you think God has nothing to say about people like this? 
            The vexation of a fool is known at once, but the prudent ignores an insult. Pro 12:16
            Hatred stirs up strife, but love covers all offenses. Pro 10:12
            Good sense makes one slow to anger, and it is his glory to overlook an offense. Pro 19:11
            Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. 1 Cor 13:7
            Above all, keep loving one another earnestly, since love covers a multitude of sins. 1 Pet 4:8.
            Now let’s put that all together.  A person who is quick to take offense, who is easily set off when a certain topic arises, who seems to make a career out of hurt feelings is a fool, imprudent, full of hate instead of love, divisive, and lacking good sense.  That’s what God says about the matter.  He didn’t walk on eggshells.
            On the other hand, the person who overlooks insults, who doesn’t take everything the worst possible way, who makes allowances for others’ foibles, especially verbal ones, and who doesn’t tell everyone how hurt or insulted he is, is wise, prudent, sensible, and full of love.  Shouldn’t that describe any older Christian, especially one who has been at if for thirty or forty years?
            So, let’s take a good look at ourselves.  Do people avoid me?  Am I defensive, and quick to assume bad motives?   Do I find myself insulted or hurt several times a week?  Do I keep thinking that everyone is out to get me in every arena of life?  Maybe I need to realize that I am not the one that everyone always has in mind when they speak or act.  I am not, after all, the center of the universe.  Maybe it’s time I acted the spiritual age I claim to be.
            Maybe I need to sweep up a few eggshells.
 
Put on then, as God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. Col 3:12-14.
 
Dene Ward

There are probably as many recipes for meat loaf as there are families who eat it.  Up until a few years ago, I thought the only excuse for making meat loaf was the sandwiches you made with the leftovers.  In fact, I was happy to forego eating it at all the first night, and use it only for sandwiches the next day. 
            Then I found a recipe for Southwestern Meat Loaf.  It’s still meat loaf—ground meat, finely chopped vegetables, filler, binder of eggs and dairy, seasonings, and a tomato product on top. 
            Instead of white or yellow onions you use scallions.  Instead of bell pepper, open a can of chopped green chiles.  Instead of bread crumbs or oatmeal, grind up corn tortillas in the food processor.  Instead of milk, sour cream fills the dairy bill with the usual eggs.  Along with the usual salt and pepper, sprinkle in chili powder, cumin, and chopped fresh cilantro.  Instead of ketchup, mix 3 tablespoons of brown sugar in a cup of salsa.  Pour a quarter cup of that over the top; save the rest for heating and passing with the finished loaf.  Fifteen minutes before it’s done, sprinkle it with Monterey Jack cheese instead of cheddar.  Voila! (Or whatever the Mexican word for that is.)
            You know what?  It still looks like meat loaf, smells like meat loaf, and tastes like meat loaf, just with a different accent, one we happen to prefer.  But if someone else came up with a recipe using chunks of beef, broth, potatoes, onions, and carrots we would all think he was nuts to call it meat loaf.  It bears no resemblance to the meat loaf pattern—it’s beef stew.
            For some reason, that made me think about God’s plan for the church.  We can find verse after verse where the apostles, particularly Paul, tell us that God expects us to follow a pattern in each congregation—1 Corinthians 4:17; 7:17; 16:1 and 2:Tim 1:13,  just to name a few.  But sometimes we mistake an expedient for a flaw in the pattern, and try to legislate where God did not.
            Take the Lord’s Supper for instance:  grape juice and unleavened bread on the first day of the week.  What kind of grapes must the juice come from?  What sort of flour must the bread be made of?  Most of the time here in America, we use juice made from Concord grapes.  They did not have Concord grapes in first century Jerusalem.  The grapes they had in Corinth were probably different, too.  Today we use wheat flour, usually bleached, all-purpose, white flour.  Most likely the early Christians in Palestine used barley flour, and I bet there was nothing white about it—pure, whole grain was all most of them could afford.  (Funny how that is the expensive kind today!)  In Rome the Christians might have used semolina flour.  But there is one thing for certain—everywhere in the world, grapes of some sort are available, and everywhere in the world people eat bread.  All they have to do is press the grapes and remove the leavening from the bread recipe.
            Following a pattern does not mean we make rules God did not.  Two women can each make a dress from the same pattern.  One uses satin and trims it in lace; the other can only afford gingham and trims it with rickrack.  Did they both follow the pattern?  Are the sleeves the same length in the same place?  Is the neckline the same?  Do they both have a gathered skirt, or is one A-line?  Oops.  That one changed the pattern.  It’s really not that hard to tell, is it?
            And that is how we tell if a church is following the pattern.  Sometimes we try to force every church into satin and lace, when they are really more suited to gingham and rickrack.  But the essentials are there.  It is not my job to go around making judgments about details (cultural expedients) as long as the basic pattern is sound. 
            But that pattern does matter.  It has always mattered with God.  Read about Nadab and Abihu, Uzzah, or King Uzziah.  Then let’s make sure we have found a group of people who do their best to follow God’s pattern, and who do not add their own rules to God’s.  After all, meat loaf is meat loaf is meat loaf.  But beef stew isn’t!
 
…even as Moses is warned of God when he is about to make the tabernacle, See, said he, that you make all things according to the pattern which was shown you in the mount,  Heb 8:5.

Dene Ward
 

I have a pretty amazing recipe for peanut butter cookies.  Here it is:  peanut butter, sugar, and an egg.  Period.  You do add a mere teaspoon of vanilla, but no flour at all, no salt, no soda or other chemical leavenings—that's why they are "unbelievable."  They are nearly pure peanut butter, but somehow they hold together.  Do you suppose that is why they taste so good?  Nothing else to dull the flavor.  If you are a peanut butter fanatic, you will love these cookies, just like my little Judah does.
            When I first saw the recipe, I said, "No way.  They forgot the flour, at least."  But then I read the recipe itself and right there in the text was the statement, "No.  I did not forget the flour."  Then, and only then, did I try them.  They remain to this day, the only peanut butter cookie I make.  I have a few other cookie recipes where peanut butter is an ingredient, but none other where the peanut butter is the star.  And I am here to tell you:  it works!
            A lot of folks seemed to think that God got the recipe wrong too.  Seeing that Jews ask for signs, and Greeks seek after wisdom: but we preach Christ crucified, unto Jews a stumblingblock, and unto Gentiles foolishness; but unto them that are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God, and the wisdom of God. (1Cor 1:22-24)
            God becoming man was unthinkable.  The Creator dying on a cross at the hand of his creation was ridiculous to even contemplate.  A kingdom "not of this world" became, and still seems to be, a bone of contention for the religious world.  The kingdom must be a physical kingdom here on this earth, the same problem the Jews had, and even the apostles at the beginning.  The pure and simple gospel of a risen Savior and a spiritual kingdom just can't work, the world continues to say. 
            And the pure and simple kingdom, the church, is no longer relevant in a complicated world, they maintain.  So they add things God never seemed to think of, believing they are improving things.  They change the structure and even the mission of the Lord's body because they know better—better than God does, evidently.
            And yet I have continued to see God's way work just fine my whole life.  I grew up in the arms of parents who carried me to an assembly of the Lord's people every time the doors were opened, who taught me the way at home, and who showed me with their lives what it meant to be a part of that kingdom—a pure and simple kingdom run the same way it did when it began two thousand years ago.  I know it works, firsthand.  The people I worship with today know it works.  We see it all around us.  And as we grow and make new disciples, we see their amazement at the simplicity of the gospel, and watch while they learn what should be obvious to everyone who even claims to be a believer:  God knows what He is doing.  He doesn't need our new-fangled notions and the arrogance that thinks it is wiser than the Creator of us all.
            The simple purity of a life and worship ordained by the authority of the Word of God and the approved example of first century believers instead of the think-sos of men will thrill your soul.  It may be unbelievable at first, but if you stick with the recipe, it will all hold together and you will finally believe.
 
For the word of the cross is to them that perish foolishness; but unto us who are saved it is the power of God. For it is written, I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, And the discernment of the discerning will I bring to nought. Because the foolishness of God is wiser than men; and the weakness of God is stronger than men. (1Cor 1:18,19,25)
 
Dene Ward

I accidentally made some healthy cookies a few weeks ago.  I had not taken the time to pick up my glasses and the magnifying glass.  I had just concentrated hard and was sure the recipe said, “1 ½ sticks of butter.”  After the cookies came out of the oven, I was disappointed in their dry, cakey texture, when I had expected something chewy and rich.  So I picked up my glasses and looked again—“1 ½ cups of butter.”  That is three whole sticks.  What I had done was cut the butter in half.  Low fat cookies were not what I had in mind, but it did help to say to myself, “For low fat, they’re not that bad.”
            As Christians we often focus so often on what we cannot do—all those “thou shalt nots”—that it is amazing we can endure.  Our faith becomes negative instead of positive.  It is all about what we do not do, not what we do.  That may explain why so many of us are bitter and why we never manage to spread the good news—to us it isn’t such good news.
            It also explains why we lose so many of our children.  Your home should be a place of safety, a place of contentment, a place of love and laughter.  It should be a haven for your children and their friends.  Do you want to know where they are, what they are doing, and with whom?  Make your home a pleasant place to be, not a prison they hope to break out of someday, and you will know where they are, because home is where they are, and where they want to be.
            Christians should be known for what they do, not for what they don’t do, for who they are, not who they aren’t.  If your friends were asked to describe Christians based on their knowledge of you, what would they say?  “Christians are people who don’t drink, who don’t gamble, who don’t go to clubs, who don’t curse, who don’t engage in non-marital sex, who don’t smoke or take drugs, who don’t watch certain movies and TV shows,” and on and on.  Or would they say, “Christians are happy, generous people who help others whenever a need arises, who are always having people in their homes—you can hear the laughter going on all evening.  They are honest and forgiving.  You know you can trust them because you never hear them gossip.  They are pleasant to be around and seem to be able to handle anything life throws at them, and handle it well.  They are the best people on earth.  I wish I was more like them.”
            God has always promised his people “fat” lives.  He told the Israelites they would have a land flowing with milk and honey, Ex 3:8.  When Nehemiah brought them back from captivity, he reminded them that they had taken fortified cities, and a fat land, and possessed houses full of all good things, cisterns hewn out, vineyards, and oliveyards, and fruit-trees in abundance: so they did eat, and were filled, and became fat, and delighted themselves in [God’s] great goodness, 9:25.  But they focused only on the restraints of righteous living instead of the blessings, finally fell away to the heathens whose lives they envied, and God sent them away to punishment. 
            Yet still, He had Ezekiel tell them of another good land, a Messianic kingdom that would bring joy and peace.   And I will bring them out from the peoples, and gather them from the countries, and will bring them into their own land; and I will feed them upon the mountains of Israel, by the watercourses, and in all the inhabited places of the country. I will feed them with good pasture; and upon the mountains of the height of Israel shall their fold be: there shall they lie down in a good fold; and on fat pasture shall they feed upon the mountains of Israel, 34:13,14.  That is exactly where we find ourselves today, in that “fat” Messianic kingdom, so why do we so often insist that the life of a Christian is a miserable one?
            God has never required “fat-free living;” in fact, He has promised just the opposite.  Concentrate today on the peace that living as a child of God brings to your life.  Focus on the joy of salvation and the fellowship of a spiritual family.  Contemplate the good in your life. The rest of the world deals with addictions, legal problems, disrupted families, purposeless lives, and finally, illness and death without hope and comfort.  Talk about a negative life. 
            Go out and enjoy the fat in your life today.
 
The thief comes not, but that he may steal, and kill, and destroy: I came that they may have life, and may have it abundantly, John 10:10.
 
Dene Ward

A national day for zucchini bread?  You bet, but first a little history.
            Zucchini is not a European native, at least it wasn't at first.  It is a Western Hemisphere plant the seeds of which have been found in Mexican archaeological digs dating back as far as 9000 BC.  All of those Italian and Spanish explorers who sailed around and hiked all over the New World took back the first ones when they went home, Columbus among them.  Even then they thought it was a melon!  The Native Americans used a word for it that meant "to be eaten raw," which may be the worst way to eat a zucchini.  Maybe that is why it was some time in the 1800s before zucchini became a popular vegetable in Italy where it was called zucca, which means "squash."  "Zucchini," is the diminutive form and is plural because an Italian word ending in "i" usually is.  (You ate one panino at lunch, not one panini, no matter what the menu says.)  On what date did all this happen?  I have no idea, and neither did anyone I consulted.  April 25 seems an odd day to choose, since they aren't producing yet, not even here in North Florida gardens, but so be it. 
            Zucchini's popularity can be explained primarily by both its ease in growing and its bountifulness.  It may not be that one zucchini plant will yield 100 of the things, but it sure seems that way, and that is how the recipe for zucchini bread was born—a gardener going out day after day hoping for something else but finding nothing but zucchini, and you have to do something with them!  Your neighbors learn to run when they see you coming with a sackful, or they cower inside pretending not to be at home when you knock.
If you are a gardener (or know one), 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, no matter which you use.
            Most zucchini (or squash) bread is compact and dense, and just about flavorless.  Try this instead.  Take your usual recipe.  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 over a sink.  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
 

We went for our annual visit to see Lucas in the panhandle and one morning he drove me across Pensacola Bay to a world famous fresh seafood market—Joe Patti's.  He had taken me one year before, after I had already bought the food we needed for our stay, but I was entranced with pile after pile of fish that had come from both the Bay and the Gulf in a boat only steps from the front door of that shop that very morning.  So I told him that the next time I would buy and cook something special for him.
            My plan was for crab stuffed red snapper, a recipe I had cobbled together after doing some research online and in the various cookbooks lining my shelves.  That snapper was beautiful, and I picked out a pound and a half fillet for the three of us, which was treated like gold as the young lady carefully wrapped it, then placed it on ice next to a cashier.  But I still needed the crabmeat.  I am used to 8 ounce containers of fresh crab where I live, but all of these were a full pound, and that made me a little chintzy.  Instead of jumbo lump, I picked up claw meat, and then promptly forgot the problem with that—I neglected to pick through it and pull out any extraneous shell.  That is, until my first bite gave me a solid crunch where there should not have been any.  I am happy to say that it was actually fairly clean for claw meat and I got most of the shell, so Lucas still had the enjoyment of an excellent seafood dinner with some of the best fish he ever ate.
            But I wonder if most of us aren't claw meat.  We have been entirely too careless in cleaning up our lives and have let a few things slip that we shouldn't have.  Especially if we have "grown up in the church" as we are prone to say, and have never committed any of the heinous sins we look down on the rest of the world for, it's easy to think we are nice jumbo lump crabmeat and the Lord ought to be happy he has us.  Do you think I am exaggerating?  I have seen too many people look down on people "straight off the street," just as Simon the Pharisee looked down on the brave woman who made her way into his party and anointed Jesus.  "She loves me more than you do, Simon," Jesus as much as said, and made it plain whom he preferred as his disciple.
            The thing about crabmeat is that even jumbo lump crabmeat needs to be picked through and it's a whole lot easier to find the shell!  Sin always finds its way in the door no matter who we are, how long we have been sitting on a pew, nor how well we think we are doing.  Let's be careful about judging others when we need a good pick-through ourselves.
 
Who are you to pass judgment on the servant of another? It is before his own master that he stands or falls. And he will be upheld, for the Lord is able to make him stand (Rom 14:4).
 
Dene Ward