Cooking

The first time I put my youngest daughter in charge of fixing supper, we had an odd blend of clam chowder and black olives. I think she figured two cans of food covered all the food groups.

Today, however, she cooks fancy tomato basil soup and an elegant chicken dish that draws crowds.

I thought about her skills as I considered feet. Feet, by the way, are a curious thing in the Bible. Feet, in biblical terms, indicated authority. A king had rights over land touched by his feet. Those defeated were considered to be under the feet of their conquerors.

A psalmist many centuries ago wrote:

You made him [man] ruler over the works of your hands; you put everything under his feet. (Psalms 8:6)

So when God put everything under our feet, he meant we had authority to rule. I'm amazed, first, that he'd turn over the works of his hand to us. Look at what mankind has done to God's creation over the centuries.

This isn't about our worthiness. Do we deserve to be handed authority over God's creation?

How would my daughter have grown in her culinary skills if I had insisted she do it right the first time? I had to believe that she would learn and grow given opportunity. (And it took a little imagination after that first meal!)

God is more gracious than I am. He looks at his children and sees not bumbling failures but princes and princesses who can grow into their rule. He crowns his children and raises them to a lofty place that they have not earned.

Our response isn't to call ourselves master chefs, but shout this:

O LORD, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!
Psalms 8:9

Hard candy at Christmas

"Did you mind?" I asked in surprise to my mother's memory.

She had just told me about a childhood Christmas. Her mother had taken her old doll, washed it, stitched together a new dress, combed its hair, and put it back under the tree as her gift. Her only gift.

"Oh, no, I didn't mind! It had a new dress," she said mildly. "We didn't have much in those days."

My mother grew up on a potato farm along with nine siblings during the 1930's. The experience has changed her life.

"After our Sunday school Christmas program, we each got a bag of candy," she recalled. "There would be hard candy and an orange. That orange was so good! We didn't get fruit in the winter time so it was a special treat."

I sat back in my chair, also remembering. I had grown up with the same tradition, but it's been discontinued today. Too many children dropped their paper bag of treats in a trash can because the bag only contained hard candy and an orange. They demanded chocolate and toys.

They remind me of Solomon, the Bill Gates of his day. Actually, Solomon might have been able to hire Bill Gates. He was that rich.

Yet this man wrote "everything is futile." He'd tried every pleasure in life, for he could afford them all. He'd explored every taste, every song, every amusement. When those proved lacking, he turned to achievements. He built houses and planted vineyards. He tried philosophy and education.

Solomon observed: God gives a man riches, wealth, and honor so that he lacks nothing of all he desires for himself, but God does not allow him to enjoy them. (Eccl 6:2)

Imagine pursuing riches, wealth and honor and then not enjoying them. Imagine having more possessions than you can catalog, ever buying the newest and latest hoping for a new thrill. And then discovering it isn't enough. Hmmm, remember what you got, or gave, for Christmas last year?

The generation of the Great Depression learned something we do not know today, that riches and possessions and achievements and philosophy don't fulfill.

Solomon concluded that one thing counts: Fear God, and keep his commandments; for that is the whole duty of everyone.(Eccl 12:13)

With our current economic stumbles, this Christmas might look a little different than ones in the past. But if we keep an eye on what matters, we'll be OK.

Economic bites

Maybe gas prices have dipped a little but my grocery bill keeps going up. And it's not all because of a teenage son. That just makes the bite a little more vivid.

We all know that the economy is tight right now. Prices are up, personal financial worth down.

John Piper took an interesting tack on his blog, Desiring God. Bad economic times, he suggests, are good for missions.

Here are some of his reasons:

• During an economic downturn we are more dependent on God. That is the most fertile soil for creating missionaries.
• During an economic downturn unreached people around the world do not expect you to come, but to look out for yourself. So they may more likely see your risk as love rather than exploitation.
• During an economic downturn those who need Christ around the world may be less secure in earthly things and more ready to hear about eternal life.
• During an economic downturn people at home may be wakened to the brevity of life and the fragility of material things, and so may become more generous not less. And when they give under these circumstances, it will make Christ look all the more like the all-satisfying Treasure that he is.

Recently I heard a speaker point out the irony of what our money states: In God we trust. Do we trust the words or the paper they're written on?

The state of greed

Charles did enough international travel to be familiar with US customs procedures. So when he was pulled aside in Dallas for an interview and a search by a customs official, he was curious.

“Why did you pull me out of line?” he asked the official.

The man shifted a little uncomfortably. “Are you sure you really want to know?”

“I wouldn’t have asked,” Charles told him, “if I didn’t want to know.”

“Well, as you came through customs, I heard you say that you were a Christian. I find that Christians lie more often about what they bring back into the US.”

Ouch.

This is a true story. What can we make of it?

I’ve talked with waiters and waitresses who dread the Sunday after-church crowd for these are the most likely to leave a pittance for a tip along with a brochure on how to get to heaven.

I suspect a thoughtful tip might convey something of God’s love, too.

I know of churches who nurse along a healthy savings account, calling it stewardship when I wonder about their trust. For some reason, I think about five loaves and two fishes turning into food for over 5,000 – with leftovers. Couldn’t God re-fill the savings account?

King Nebuchadnezzar was reduced to an animal state because he used his wealth and power to live a life of ease, taking pride in his own abilities rather than submitting to God.

Are we a greedy group of followers?

Job said it well:

If I have made gold my trust, or called fine gold my confidence; if I have rejoiced because my wealth was great, or because my hand had gotten much... this also would be an iniquity to be punished by the judges, for I should have been false to God above.

Job 31:24-28