The Scone of Life

It was a nondescript building—more like a shed actually—tucked behind a rehabbed diner. Marked by the smallest of signs and barely visible from the road, one could easily drive by and miss it altogether. In fact, I would have if my friend Carrie hadn’t guided me to its “secret” location.

She’d told much about this place, but honestly from the looks of it I prepared myself to be disappointed. Yet my opinion changed drastically when I stepped inside and took a breath. An aroma danced in the air inviting me to inhale again, deeply. The tantalizing scents ushered in an olfactory experience that led me to one conclusion.

I was in heaven.

While heaven smelled blissful, it looked strangely like triangular pastries. Sugar, flour, butter, raisins, coconut and other ingredients like berries, pears, pineapples, macadamia nuts, lemon, chocolate or figs masterfully combined and shaped, then sprinkled with sugar crystals and baked to golden perfection.

While my nose knew we’d arrived at the pearly gates, I ordered one just to make sure. Filled with anticipation, I took a bite. Sweet and flaky. Light and luxurious. Decadent and divine. A melody of tastes blended to create a savory symphony that inspired angels to sing. Really, I heard them.

Singing in scone heaven.

The good news is one can take paradise “to-go” because it’s sold as blocks of frozen dough ready to bake at home. Carrie stocked up on a bunch to give as gifts (because she’s an incredibly thoughtful person). I bought a bunch to hide in my freezer, and perhaps share with my husband (because, well, I’m not Carrie).

I am, however, like Pavlov’s dog at the thought of those little bundles of glory safely ensconced in my freezer. There are puddles of drool on my desk right now. Seriously. It's gross.

While frozen scone dough allows one to stockpile inventory, it provides the distinct disadvantage of being…um…frozen. Before it can be baked the dough must defrost overnight in the fridge or be left on the counter for an hour. Either way, the road to scone bliss is paved with advance planning. Not always an acceptable answer.

This is especially true when one experiences what Carrie has aptly named—the scone emergency! This crisis can be brought on by a wide range of experiences (PMS, a bad day at work, a fight with your spouse, frustration with your kids, being disappointed by a friend, stress about finances, the sun rising in the East, excessive thoughts of scones, etc.), but all bring on the same urgent plea. “Help! I need one now!”

Perhaps this is why God created the defrost setting on the microwave.

Now I’ve tasted and seen that the scone is good and life will never be the same again. I marvel at the restorative power and scrumptiousness that awaits in my freezer. (Please don’t even think the subpar offerings at your supermarket or even at Starbucks are anything other than scone blasphemy!)

This entire experience has led me to believe Biblical scholars made a serious error when translating Jesus’ teachings on baked goods. Surely the true meaning of the text springs to life with these “corrections”…

“I am the scone of life.” (John 6:48)

“I tell you the truth, you are looking for me, not because you saw miraculous signs but because you ate the fresh-from-the-oven scones and had your fill.” (John 6:26)

“I am the living scone that came down from heaven. If anyone eats of this scone, he will live forever. This scone is my flesh, which I will give for the life of the world.” (John 6:51)

It’s kind of obvious, actually. A dry, crusty loaf… or warm, sweet, luscious perfection? The former leaves me grasping for the emotional and intellectual connection. And the latter inspires divine adoration and fills my heart with joy. Put in that context, hungering for righteousness is a no-brainer!

Perhaps I may be a bit off, but there is one thing of which I am 100% certain. After all this waxing nostalgic about heavenly pastries I feel a real emergency coming on.


P.S. If you feel I’ve crossed the line theologically, you obviously have never experienced these scones!

j. scones are made by renowned pastry chef Jodi Schad and are sold at her bake shop located at 4119 Swamp Road, Doylestown, PA. You can also buy them online at Williams and Sonoma. Or, you can drop by my house. (I will, of course, claim to have just run out.)

Becoming Salt and Light

The kids are off from school this week for Spring break. While I am enjoying our time together, I’m finding it challenging to get into a rhythm and concoct clever plans for our days. I guess today’s writing is reflective of my state of mind—scattered.

While I was at the gym this morning reading the close captions on the bank of TVs, it struck (again) me how hard it is live in this world and be a Christian. We are surrounded by a society that is anything but godly—a presidential election that seems more about hate and hypocrisy than hope and reason; powerful men seduced by their seeming immortality, tumbling to reality in disgrace and scandal; a pervasive message that tells our young people that sex isn’t really sex and morals are flexible because it all depends on your point of view; a family unit that makes a married mom and dad optional; and our national obsession with celebrities…and that’s just what I saw in 45 minutes while on the stationery bike!

I’m often tempted to curse the darkness and rant about how bad everything and everyone is. Or to live in an ivory tower and shut it all out.

A few months ago, my daughter felt this way. She was upset and told me she thought that God was telling her to switch to a Christian school. My husband and I are extremely pleased with the public school she attends so I was surprised by this. When I pressed her for an explanation, it seemed her concern centered on the ungodly influences at school and the choices of some of her peers. As a mother protecting her young, my first instinct was to get on her transfer ASAP! But after a few moments of consideration, and a quick silent prayer, I saw that my daughter’s request was more about running away than running toward. It was about looking for that ivory tower where life is “good” and safe.

As I told her, our challenge as Christians is to live IN the world, but not OF the world. Jesus says, “you do not belong to the world, but I have chosen you out of the world.” (John 15:19). As believers we are future residents of heaven and aliens in this world. But while we await our inheritance, we are commanded to be salt and light. Jesus tells us, “let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven.” (Matthew 5:14, 16).

Every day, all around us, there is so much darkness—much of which the world embraces. But Jesus didn’t come to condemn the world and neither should we. As followers of Christ, we’re set apart and our behavior and good deeds should light the path so that others can find their way out of the darkness—to Jesus.

Figuring out how to do this is hard. It’s an area I struggle with daily.

How about you? Do you have any suggestions, personal examples or experiences of living in but not of the world that we can learn from?