Saturday, July 25, 2020

Cookies, Transformation, and the Love of God


Rev. Molly F. James, PhD

St. Matthew’s, Wilton, CT

Proper 12A, July 26, 2020

Genesis 29:15-28; Psalm 105:1-11, 45b; Romans 8:26-39; Matthew 13:31-33,44-52


May God’s Word be spoken. May God’s Word be heard. May that point us to the living Word who is Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.


Good morning. It is a joy to be with you all, even if virtually. I have had the privilege of being colleagues with Marissa for a number of years here in ECCT. We spent quite a few of those years shepherding people through the ordination process. We bonded over a deep love of our Church and passions for shared leadership and the holy work of forming future leaders. We also bonded over a shared love of delicious food. We both love to cook and to enjoy what others have cooked. 


In the recent months when we have had so much more time at home, I have been grateful for that love of cooking and creating. Making something delicious has been a bright spot in these challenging days. One of my favorite things to cook are chocolate chip cookies. I have been making (and perfecting my recipe) for decades. There is something so very wonderful about chocolate chip cookies. They are comfort food indeed. 


And here is the thing about being a priest who loves to cook. It means you find theological insights and new ways of understanding God while standing in the kitchen. Rather in line with our tradition, if I may be so bold. Jesus' parables are full of examples drawn from everyday life. The Kingdom of God is like a seed, like yeast, like grain, like a pearl, like a net. God is indeed revealed to us in the midst of our daily lives. Even in a few bites of a cookie.


There is something profound about the transformational process of baking. You mix all the ingredients - start with the dry: flour, sugar, salt, baking powder and soda. Add the wet: melted butter, eggs, vanilla. And of course the chips. On their own, those ingredients are good in their own right, but something very particular happens when they are all mixed together in a certain ratio and baked. And once they have come together, they cannot be separated again. You cannot get the eggs back out of the cookie, for instance. Things cannot just go back to the way things were before. Transformation has happened.

What if this is how it is in our relationship with God? This is what Paul seems to be telling us in the letter from Romans today. He is affirming the conviction that nothing can separate us from the love of God. We have been brought into relationship with God. We have been transformed in our baptism. We have been marked as Christ’s own forever. 


The cookies cannot revert to mere staples on our pantry shelves. Their and our transformation cannot be undone. We cannot lose our connection to God. Really. Let that truth sink in for a moment. The truth that nothing can separate us from God is one that can seem like a platitude. We might rush past it out of familiarity. Oh, yeah. We know that. 


Today, I invite you to let it sink into your souls. This is a profound truth for us. It is a truth to carry with us each and every day, no matter what comes our way. The truth in our Epistle ought to strike us to the core. 


“For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”


And I am convinced that not even a pandemic, not even a natural disaster, not even a job loss, not even the death of someone we cannot imagine life without, not even a diagnosis that turns our world upside down, not even the crumbling of all the structures that we have taken for granted. 


There is nothing. Absolutely nothing that can separate us from the love of God we have found in Jesus. 


I don’t know about you all, but that is a reminder I needed today. There are days and there are moments in the midst of all that we are encountering and experiencing, where I begin to think, oh, maybe this is it? Maybe this loss. This crisis. This pain. This is what will do it. This is too much. I cannot bear it. 


But the connection does not break. I might think it has wavered, but that is only because I have let my fear and anxiety cloud my vision. God is right there with me. I might think I cannot bear it, but that is only because I am stuck thinking I have to bear the challenges of these days alone. I do not. We do not. 


We have God, and we have each other. That is what we do as people of faith, as communities of faith. We hold the faith for each other. We hold each other up in the midst of crises, in the midst of loss, in the midst of doubt. Our actions, our love, our commitment to each other holds the truth that nothing can separate us from God’s love in Christ. We hold that truth for each other until we are ready to claim it again for ourselves. 


Maybe today is a day that you have that truth solidly in your heart. Wonderful. Today is your day to hold that truth for others. Maybe it is a day in which you are struggling. In which case I hope you will know that you are not alone. This marvelous faithful community is holding the truth for you. We are here together to remind us that come what may, we are never alone. The love of God surrounds us and upholds us, today and always. It is a connection that can never be broken. AMEN. 


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