Pie Are Round

So I’m watching a series on Hulu just for relaxation, when one of the characters removes what she calls a

Here's a beauty found at Cocina Para Emancipados

quiche from the oven . . . and it’s a rectangle.  And unbidden, my mind thinks, “that’s not a quiche – it’s a rectangle.  A quiche has to be a circle.  It’s a pie, dammit!  And pie are not square (or rectangular), pie are round.”

It’s a bit of silliness (well, okay, a whole lot of silliness), I know, but I can’t shake this feeling that when quiche are not round, there’s something wrong at work in the universe.

If I had more energy, I would research why pies are round and why quiches in particular are.  I would learn the history of the quiche.  I would know its variations of wonderfulness.  And I might even take the time and learn how to make my quiche square, if not rectangular (there must be some standards, after all!).

But it is way too early in the morning to be spending so much time online investigating just to know the difference, the implications, of the square, rectangle and circle-shaped quiche.

I think I’ll go back to bed.

_______
Because I am that geekie, I just did a quick scan of google images of quiches and although I didn't look at them all, I only found 5 non-circular shaped dishes out of roughly 1,000 images of the glorious quiche - and I suspect that those 5 may not be quiches at all, but rather a strada or some other egg dish.  Just sayin.

It's All Pie!

I spent the day gathering data from last year, preparing for next week’s congregational meeting.

From 9laughs.com

It’s tedious work, but there’s something in me that likes to measure things.  Somehow, it makes me feel as if I’ve accomplished something.  I’m that way with lists too – there’s nothing quite so satisfying as checking some chore off the to-do list.  And today, I made a pie chart! (I really need to get out more!)

Today’s data focused on how I spent my time as pastor in 2011.  The results are interesting to us, perhaps, but hardly surprising: most of my time was spent in (1) worshiping and preparing for worship; (2) pastoral care – things like visiting the sick; (3) Bible studies (well, we are a church after all);  (4) young people ministries; and (5) outreach.

Young people coming in #4 may not sound all that impressive to you, but when you consider that we only have 5 young folk under the age of 18 who regularly attend our country church, and that the average age of the congregation is surely above 60 (some Sundays, at 56, I’m the youngest one in the room), I think that’s actually pretty good.

The thing that I really don’t like is that I spend more time in meetings than in  missions.  But that’s a bit deceptive, not as to my time, but as to the church’s.  I am not spending much time dedicated to mission work; but the church is.

Close to 20% of our giving goes to one form of mission or another.  Some members of the church could truthfully be said to literally be living-in-situ missionaries.  We collect shoes sent to Kenya, food for the local Food Pantry, serve as a drop-off point for the recycling of used batteries, organize Thanksgiving baskets of food for local needy families, organize dinners to raise money to meet medical expenses for a local family, Angel Tree Christmas families, and join with other local churches to meet emergency needs as they arise.

But I keep going back to #1 - worship.  And I wonder: is worship only when we gather on Sundays and the preparation associated with that gathering?

Do we not also worship God when we feed the hungry and clothe the homeless?  Is God not glorified when we open our doors to welcome the stranger?  Does heaven hear our praise when we gather in yes, one more meeting, to wrestle over the issues of the day and try to come to good, wise and godly decisions?

Maybe I’ll redo the pie.

Maybe it’s all worship.

I hope so.

Advent Reflection: Only God Can Make a Pie

Tomorrow is the first Sunday in Advent and we will celebrate with carols, candles and communion.

And the waiting will begin. . . waiting for Messiah to come again . . . waiting for Baby Jesus in the manger . . . waiting for the spark within each of us to be reignited into the very Spirit of God in our midst . . .

And in the meantime, we will go about our lives . . . busy with the day-to-day of existence with even the cracks of time and space filled with the joy or burden of "the holidays" . . .

Can't recommend the book
as I haven't read it,
but it's a great picture!

My own symbol this year of the waiting space is the perfect pie crust.

Pie making requires first and foremost a good crust.  I've been making pies since I was about 12 and only recently did I stumble on the great tip for the perfect flaky crust:  do not stir or over-work the dough -- rather, lightly fluff the water into the flour/lard mixture only until it is moistened:  crust does not like to be overworked.  The more gentle we are with it, the more flaky and wonderful-melting-in-the-mouth goodness it will yield.  As with so many things in life, less really is more.

That's a great lesson for Advent:  less is more.  Not only the less of consumer consumption, but also the less of trying so hard.  Advent is a time, if ever there were, to relax into God and God's good grace, to do our part gently and with patience and then step back to allow The Divine work to simply happen.

We might mix together some ingredients, but to borrow from poet Joyce Kilmer, only God can make a pie.

There Will Be Pie!

A Thanksgiving Prayer

Mindful of the many pies I’ve yet to bake for the coming Thanksgiving festivities, I penned the title for today, There will be pie!, thinking literally of the pies, the smells, the savory tastes, that evoke so many Thanksgiving memories.

Googling the phrase, however, has taken me in a totally different direction, far away from the pies that will, in a few short hours, rest in my oven.

At first, I was excited to see that Johnny Cash had penned a song There'll be pie in the sky but fan that I am, I have to admit There’ll be pie in the sky, by and by when I die are hardly his best lyrics.

Where, I then asked of my magic Google machine, did the phrase pie in the sky originate?

Turns out it’s a phrase coined by labor leader Joe Hill in the song The Preacher and the Slave, lampooning the Salvation Army for its perceived lack of care for the needs of the poor in the early 1900's, as a parody of the hymn In the Sweet Bye and Bye.

Long-haired preachers come out every night,

Try to tell you what's wrong and what's right;

But when asked how 'bout something to eat

They will answer with voices so sweet:

You will eat, bye and bye,

In that glorious land above the sky;

Work and pray, live on hay,

You'll get pie in the sky when you die.

It goes on from there in similar vein.  As I read, I feel the ouch of it: as a preacher, I must ask myself whether I, too, promise a vague heavenly release while ignoring the real pain standing right in front of me?  I hope not, but the question is an important one for people of faith.

Was Joe Hill right?  Do we meet real pain with bromides and vague promises?  Do we dismiss present suffering as of no account or cost because of the prospect of heavenly ‘reward’ (a word I loathe in the context of life with God, whether here or hereafter)?  Do we, blinded by promises of glory, miss seeing the real human being with real need standing right in front of us?

Or do we offer our own real presence to the real pain of others?  Do we attend as well as tend them?  

May it be so, O Lord, may it ever and always be so, especially in these holiday times when joy and plenty stand in sharp contrast to suffering and want, making it all the worse for the comparison.

May we be mindful of the needs of others: the need for companionship as well as for provision, the need for a smile and a warm touch as well as a plate of food, the need for caring as well as for sharing.

***

Really, really, really, I wasn’t thinking at all about politics, religion or even Jesus when I sat down to the computer this morning.  It was really just going to be about pie.  Really.