Posts Tagged ‘parable’

The Baker of an Ordinary Cake (a parable)

There once was an amazing baker, who had one of the most incredible minds and tongues for creating something not only visually spectacular, but that also wowed the senses all at once upon eating. She could create cakes that looked like they’d been brought straight out of a magazine. Professional masterpieces, where layer after layer after layer was simply a blank canvas upon which she would unleash her creative energies. People came from all over not only to see her cakes, but to pay great amounts of money in order to experience just a bite themselves.

There’s a story that one time she created a cake in the shape of a sleeping alligator that was so lifelike, animal control was called. She let the story unfold, gaining media attention and growing in tension until finally, she snuck through the boundaries of onlookers, and sliced a piece of chocolate filled strawberry cake from the midsection of the alligator. As the people around gasped, they laughed and applauded as cake was served to everyone who had gathered.

The news of her talent and abilities spread far and wide. One day she saw a challenge before her. Her cakes were all incredibly beautiful, and captivating to the eye. When people took a bite of one of her cakes, it was only after they’d seen the beauty of the full cake, or heard long stories and explanations of her cake-making abilities. But what did people really think of her cake recipes? She might not ever find out, because so much emphasis was always given to helping people understand and notice the beauty and talent inherent to everything she ever baked.

She decided to try an experiment. She made a cake that looked exactly like – an ordinary cakecake. Nothing incredibly fancy. Nothing that screamed “WOW”. Nothing that forced everyone around it to notice. Just, ordinary. Next, she snuck her cake right into the middle of a busy restaurant where food was being served left and right. An ordinary cake showing up in the middle of a buffet table was no big deal. She watched, and waited, as the first slice was taken by a small boy. She’d used the finest ingredients, and put a great deal of care and inspiration into her recipe. But on the surface, and looking at his plate – the boy saw a piece of ordinary cake just like any other. He hurried back to his table and sat down.

She knew others were beginning to take slices as well, but this boy captured her attention. She wanted to see what his response would be, and waited quietly, patiently, pretending not to notice from a table at the side of the room. As she sat, sipping her coffee, the boy took his first bite. She noticed his face brighten. The combination of perfectly crafted icing, and moist delicate cake was like a bomb of deliciousness on his tongue, and he couldn’t keep himself from beaming as he devoured the rest of the piece from his plate.

She smiled, satisfied and excited at his response. She began to look around to see how others who had taken a slice might be responding. Person after person, she noticed the expressions of delight and reverie as some devoured just as the boy had – while others set their forks down after every morsel, chewing slowly and closing their eyes as the flavors settled over their tongues. She heard someone ask for the manager, so they could contact the chef. Apparently, someone wanted to have this exact cake made for their wedding. The baker continued to watch from the side, as the chef proudly emerged from the kitchen, only to look with disappointment at the few pieces leftover from the cake.

He confessed – this was not his cake, and he had no idea where it had come from.
Finally the baker stepped forward, and confessed – she had made this ordinary-looking cake. Everyone was so excited to meet her, as soon as they realized here was this incredibly famous and gifted person, right in the midst of their simple ordinary restaurant! No WONDER this cake tasted so amazing, and compelled people to respond!

Hands were shaken, pictures were taken, and the story spread like wildfire. Everyone heard the story of this incredibly simple, ordinary cake from the outside, that held an incredible amount of talent, love for baking, and flavor inside. In fact, it became so popular – people began requesting the same exact cake at their local bakeries. It was such an easy cake mold to use, and such an unassuming design, it was very easy for other cake shops to replicate it. They even improved on it modestly. Images were shared all over Pinterest, and all the other social medias. The hashtag “#OrdinaryCake” was trending for months as the world caught “cake fever”.

The problem was, with everyone focusing on what the cake looked like, hardly anyone was coming to her to make the cake anymore. She had kitchen cupboards FILLED with ingredients, and only once in a while did anyone call and ask her to make one of her cakes. The world was busy sharing images, celebrating moments, and eating ordinary cake, filled with ordinary ingredients, and ordinary inspiration…

May we examine our cakes, to see what all the excitement is about…and may we call the baker today.

(Inspired in part by 2 Corinthians 4)

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interrupted..

There once was a church in a place far away

They were proud as they entered the church every day

Every time the doors opened, they’d fill up the pews

And when burning bush talked, they’d remove their shoes.

They shook hands with love, and greeted each other,

When having a meal, invited one another

They’d pray for the people, who never came in

They’d pray for their budgets when wallets seemed thin

This lovely old church found so far from here

Their singing of songs was lovely to hear

Always on tune, and always on key

They were often mistaken for those who sang professionally.

One day in this church, found so far from here

A young man came around, who’s purpose wasn’t quite clear

He sat when they stood, making some of them nervous

Just what was he hiding, beneath the surface?

A task force was formed, to follow the lad

To observe his actions, and judge good or bad

They listened and watched, and saw what they thought

He cussed and he drank, he stole and he fought

This task force reported, next gathering time

Something had to be done, this was crossing the line

A decision was made, to proclaim with some flair

The next time the young man attended for prayer.

The scene was all set, and parishioners waited

As the young man approached , the moment seemed baited

The line had been cast, and the hook was quite clear

But they hadn’t expected just what they might hear.

Their pastor began, “Lord thanks for revealing,

The ignorant ways of those who are stealing,

Those who are drinking, and those who do curse

Are like crumbs at the bottom of a grandmothers’ purse.”

“Thank you that we are not like those without,

without reason to live, so much reason to doubt,

They think they are happy, they think they are fine,

They think they can see, but are completely blind.”

“So God we are thankful, we aren’t like those people

The one’s who have never even been under a steeple

They don’t know the words to each chorus we sing

They don’t know your Word, Lord they don’t know a thing.”

“Thank you for making us so good and wise,

We invite you to look on us with both of your eyes,

To see the incredible things that we’ve done,

To honor your ways, and to worship your son.”

The words had been spoken, and they were assured

By their holy speaking, he’d see Christ as Lord

He’d cry at their altar, and they’d smile when

Eventually he would become just like them.

But we shouldn’t be shocked at this point to find out

It wasn’t their words that turned him about

He wasn’t moved by their spotless approach

And didn’t seem to desire them as coach.

He ran to the altar, that place of their pride

Fell down on the floor, with his arms open wide

They tried to keep singing, as planned from the start

But they couldn’t keep from being warmed by his heart.

He prayed, “Oh God look at me, stumbling along,

In need of your mercy much more than a song,

If you don’t respond, I’m not sure what I’ll do,

But I know that if I’m to make it, I need grace from you.”

With that he bowed, and tears ran like a stream

So much that the altar had started to gleam

The people were taken by such a sight

And felt like maybe they weren’t doing alright

The way this young man, depended on God

The way that his tears at first just seemed odd

Reminded each one of the early days spent

Receiving forgiveness as they would repent.

And so one by one, these people came up

As those who’d been emptied, uplifting their cups

Not for his approval, or seeking his prize

But simply to be seen by the loving Father’s eyes.

Revival had come to that morning at service

Though it came in a way that makes you and I nervous

To let go of all our reasons we stand,

Our trophies, our titles, and empty our hands

To throw ourselves down, at his Mercy seat

Father, Son, Spirit, whom washes our feet

Our tears may flow also, as we receive love

So undeserved, and so free from above…

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