Time for dessert

Somewhere relegated to the far end of the buffet line are the desserts. Sweet morsels are nestled by the salad and condiments, demonstrating the importance of dessert to the buffet mentality. Buffets are all about volume. After we have stuffed ourselves on meats and breads we meander down to desserts, hoping to find some ice cream to top off our gluttony.

But to the discerning diner dessert is the “coup de grace” (merciful death blow). Dessert finishes us off. One dessert is actually called “Death by Chocolate.” Done in by chocolate. What a way to go.

I love the process of selecting a dessert in a nice restaurant, an activity I never was allowed to enjoy as a lad. I actually used to think, “Would you like something for dessert” was a rhetorical question. I remember clearly the first time I encountered the dessert cart. A cornucopia of delectable delights were paraded in front of my eyes. The cart was layered with cakes and pies, custards and things I had only dreamed of. I was sure I had discovered a slice of heaven.

The dessert of theology is eschatology, the study of last things. For our purposes, I will focus on last things as those important issues and activities that have been instituted since Easter’s resurrection morning or will come to fruition in a time to come.

Let’s go back to the dessert cart for just a moment. Notice that none of the desserts arrive at your table without the cart. In theology, the church is the dessert cart. God chose the church to be the vehicle through which He would interact with this world once Jesus ascended. This vehicle is known in two forms, the universal church and the local church. In the broadest of terms, the church is constituted of those purchased by the blood of Jesus (Acts 20:28), sanctified by Him (1 Cor. 1:2), of whom He is the head (Eph. 5:23), and that which He continues to build (Matt. 16:18). The church is the “called out ones (ecclesia)” and “those belonging to God (kuriakon).” We, the church, are God’s vehicle to transport the deliciousness of His kingdom to a hurting humanity. I love being a part of dessert.

Total commitment

I was raised in a family of food gladiators. Around our home, every morsel of food was contested. I learned this art form as a young child at my Granny White’s house. With an immense number of cousins, no pantry, refrigerator, or countertop was sacred or safe. We would move through her house like ravaging marauders. If we found it, we ate it, all of it, as quickly as possible, lest a bigger cousin snatch the delicacy from our lips.

I discovered that this behavior could be problematic soon after I married. For a treat one evening I brought home Snickers for Jan and me (we were very poor). As soon as supper was finished I began to devour my indulgence. Jan deliberately disciplined herself, consuming half of her Snickers, placing the remainder on the counter. My eyes locked in on it. It did not make it through the night. Oh the rage of a woman deprived of half of a Snickers bar. It seems that Jan had a skill I lacked; something called moderation. This is a talent that has eluded my grasp to this day. Consequently, I am a diabetic and she is a svelte beauty looking 10 years younger than she actually is.

Although moderation is a great skill in food consumption, it is an untenable concept in the arena of the atonement. God could not extend a path of restoration to mankind without a total commitment. The Old Testament system was insufficient. The sacrifice was temporary at best. A spotless lamb was needed. A pure, sinless, blood sacrifice was necessitated. The atonement demanded total sacrifice. Moderation or comprise was not an option.

Through the atonement, Jesus became the ransom for our sin (Matt. 20:28). Sin is like a slave market in which sinners are “sold under sin (Rom. 7:14)”, under the sentence of death (Ezek. 18:4). Christ, through his substitutiary death, paid the price for our sin. That price cost Him everything. Through it we have reconciliation, a restored path back to God (2 Cor. 5:18). This is the story of the atonement. This is the gift of the atonement. This is the tragic cost of the atonement. It bears no semblance of compromise or moderation. “He paid a debt He did not owe, I owed a debt I could not pay.” Thank the Lord, He paid it all!

I must confess that I have entrée envy. Going to a restaurant with me is an interesting and challenging activity. I never, let me stress never, order the same entrée twice. Variety is the spice of life and I want my life as spicy as possible! Life is much simpler for Jan. She finds a food she likes and sticks with it. She may take a menu and pretend to consider other options but it is totally a ruse. She just cannot take the risk of ordering something that she may not like. And she plays this charade out completely, insisting on ordering last. Inevitably I end up ordering first. I hate to order first. That is when my entrée envy kicks in. I will end up wishing I had everything that everyone else at the table ordered.

It does not stop with ordering food. I have to watch every dish that comes from they kitchen. “Oh, that looks really good.” “I wonder what you call that.” “Is it too late to change my order?” As the time nears for us to get our food, my dilemma deepens. I start watching the kitchen door. When the doors swing open, I begin to salivate like Pavlov’s dog. A singsong melody cascades through my mind, “Here comes our food…Here comes our food! Oh yeah, oh yeah, here comes our food.” Then the unthinkable happens, the tray passes by to another table. My mind explodes with questions. “How long have they been here?” “Weren’t we here first?” Entrée envy should be classified as a mental illness.

Tonight we get to the entrée portion of the Foundations of the Faith. Just as the entrée is the central point of the meal, the atonement is the heart of our theology. The truths of man’s purpose, the creation, the fall, and the awful cost of sin serve to frame the contextual need of the atonement. Humanity is broken. We are unable to fulfill our purpose, being crippled by sin and death. Then in comes the entrée, the heart of the gospel. God so loved the world that He provided a way back to Him. Hope is restored. Man is called into reconciliation. The path has been laid by the sacrificial death and resurrection of the very Son of God. Relationship with the Almighty has been restored!

“Now all these things are from God, who reconciled us to Himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation, namely, that God was in Christ reconciling the world to Himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and He has committed to us the word of reconciliation. Therefore, we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God were making an appeal through us; we beg you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God. He made Him who knew no sin to be sin on our behalf, so that we might become the righteousness of God in Him (2 Cor. 5:18-21).”

With an entrée like that, I never have to be envious again!

I spent yesterday with a family at the UAB Hospital in Birmingham. Armed with a newfound resolve to amend my errant eating ways, I determined to be healthy and live happy and holy. It makes sense and more importantly, it has a nice ring to it. We were in the cancer center of this hospital; the area where the cause and effect of cancer is addressed. As the afternoon dragged on hunger began to gnaw at my decided determination. I needed a snack in the worst sort of way. Friends of the family headed to Starbucks (I love that place) to indulge in the syrupy sweetness of “Mochacchinos”, “Macchiatos”, and “Frappuccinos.” Plates of lemon cake and sweet rolls beckoned them. I sat in the hallway, talking to my dear wife on the phone, wiping the reflexive saliva from the corners of my mouth. I needed help and I needed it now. Surely in the cancer center I can find healthy options that would satiate my raging hunger. I wandered through the food court, passing vending machines lined with honey buns and cheetos. Steaming hot cheeseburgers and glowing french fries sang their siren song as I passed by. Finally, hidden in a cooler filled with deserts and soft drinks I found a V-8. It was a tiny bottle but surely it would slake my pain. As the attendant scanned my nutritious choice, I was floored by sticker shock. My little snack, my tiny healthy choice, my only island in an ocean of cholesterol and sugar, was $3. I knew a stroke was surely on the way.

We have been looking at sin these past couple of weeks. Sin advertises a “play now, pay later” philosophy. Just as the hamburgers, lemon cakes and cinnamon rolls were a cheaper option at the moment, there is definitely a higher cost to these choices down the road. When you factor in the cost of a heart attack or diabetes, V-8 may not be so expensive. In the same way sin tastes good and seems like the cheaper option. To live a life that is healthy, happy and holy involves discipline and personal cost. To allow the Holy Spirit to work in our lives is to surrender the reigns to Him. Devotional times, prayer, introspection, these are costly ventures that war with our flesh. But in the end, health is restored and we find ourselves dining on the sumptuous food of fellowship with the Almighty.

We must not let the “father of all lies” deceive us. Galatians 6:7 tells us, “Do not be deceived, God is not mocked; for whatever a man sows, this he will also reap.” Sin has consequences. But allowing the Holy Spirit to work in us to conform us to the image of the Son of God has impact as well. So the question is, will you get out of the buffet line and begin to dine on the “bread of life”? I guess I’m ready to…even if it is costly.