Cheesecake and the Gospel...

In my last post, I asked the question about what God would write on a blank check for my life, and attempted to answer that question, to the extent that it has been answered.  If you're like us, you may have struggled with how to deal with this, and how to apply this blank-check lifestyle in 21st-century suburban America*.

I love cheesecake.  In my pantheon of desserts, cheesecake occupies one of the most honored pedestals.  I like them creamy or firm, plain, chocolate, pumpkin, topped with fruit or whipped cream.  Jennifer, my lovely wife, who was labeled by my young son years ago as a great "cooker," makes a chocolate cheesecake that makes me lose all grip on reality.  Not many things will cause me to take food from my children's plates, but I will consume any amount of uneaten cheesecake since throwing it away is unthinkable.

When I was growing up, my family had lunch at my grandparents' house after church every Sunday.  The menu was traditionally Southern, right down to the beef roast and green bean casserole.  The weekly variations were few, but one of them was dessert.  One of my favorites was a recipe from my great grandmother called "Orange Ladyfinger Dessert" - a chilled orange custard poured over lady fingers and covered with whipped cream.  Yum.  My most favorite was usually prepared on weeks when time was short.  You may have had it before: the Jell-O Cheesecake from a box in a store-bought graham cracker crust.  A little dollop of "whipped topping", and I was in artificially-cream-cheese-flavored heaven.

One summer as my birthday approach, my mother asked me what I wanted for the party - cake?  "No," I said, "I would rather have cheesecake."  Thus began a misunderstanding that would live in the lore of my family for decades.
Mom set to work fulfilling my wish.  She combined eggs, cream cheese, sugar with love, laboring for hours to honor me on my birthday.  When I discovered what she was doing, I was horrified.  "No!" I said, "I want the kind that Memama makes!"  Parents, you might imagine the confusion and indignation she rightly felt at my ingratitude!  I don't remember what happened after this (nothing violent, I assure you).  Feel free to ask my mom if you're curious.  What became known as the "cheesecake incident" is still a source of laughter in my family.

Of course, I was oblivious to the amount of time and effort she had spent on making the cake.  I also missed the fact that she did all of that because of the depth of her love for me.  All I knew is that what she was making was not at all what I had in mind when I asked for it.  Years later, after learning to appreciate actual cheesecake, I realized my error.  My problem is that my expectations were far too low!  This reminds me of one of my favorite quotes from C. S. Lewis.

If you asked twenty good men today what they thought the highest of the virtues, nineteen of them would reply, Unselfishness. But if you asked almost any of the great Christians of old he would have replied, Love. You see what has happened? A negative term has been substituted for a positive, and this is of more than philological importance. The negative ideal of Unselfishness carries with it the suggestion not primarily of securing good things for others, but of going without them ourselves, as if our abstinence and not their happiness was the important point. I do not think this is the Christian virtue of Love. The New Testament has lots to say about self-denial, but not about self-denial as an end in itself. We are told to deny ourselves and to take up our crosses in order that we may follow Christ; and nearly every description of what we shall ultimately find if we do so contains an appeal to desire. If there lurks in most modern minds the notion that to desire our own good and earnestly to hope for the enjoyment of it is a bad thing, I submit that this notion has crept in from Kant and the Stoics and is no part of the Christian faith. Indeed, if we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that Our Lord finds our desires, not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased. (from 'The Weight of Glory')

I don't care much for Jello-O Cheesecake, because I've come to appreciate the real thing.  What I once desired most has become sub-standard.  I am beginning to feel the same way for the pursuits that tend to occupy most of our existence: advancement at work, nicer cars and homes, activities for the kids, trips to Disney World and saving for retirement.  Somewhere in there was the teaching that I grew up on that 10% of that life should be dedicated to the Lord's work.  I think I'm coming to understand that it should be more like 100%.  Does this mean that I am putting a sign in my yard and moving to the Third World?  No.  Am I sacrificing my kids' educational opportunities?  I hope not!  Well, then, what does it mean?  It means that we have raised our standards.  Some of the things that we used to spend money on, we don't anymore.  We have found new priorities for our time.  I won't divulge many details, because our efforts are poor at best, and I wouldn't want to set the standard so low.  I hope we're getting better, but progress is slow (as you've already seen in previous posts in this space).

Another facet to this "blank check" challenge for our family comes from Paul's first letter to the church at Corinth.  He is confronting a compromised doctrine floating around among the Corinthians that Jesus didn't really rise from the dead, or that such a thing is even possible.  It does seem an impossible claim to believe, particularly in this new "Age of Science".  Many outside the church declare the notion ridiculous, but everything in the Christian faith hinges on the reality of the resurrection of Christ.  Paul says this about it:

And if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile and you are still in your sins. Then those also who have fallen asleep in Christ have perished. If in Christ we have hope in this life only, we are of all people most to be pitied. (I Corinthians 15:17-19)

Christians in the first century were being fed to animals, burned alive and crucified for denying the deity of Caesar.  I don't know that in my life to this point I've done anything (or done without anything) that would cause an observer to pity me if my world view is in error.  Suppose today's church lived in such a sacrificial way that those outside her ranks considered them to be wasting their time and money worrying so much about the world that Christ loves and died to redeem.  I confess that I really struggle with this.  I suppose that right now, the point for me is to enjoy the process of discovery in that struggle.

We should prefer the unblushing promises of Real Cheesecake.

"The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which a man found and covered up. Then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field." (Matthew 13:44) 

*To beat a dead horse, I'll repeat my disclaimer: my purpose is to be transparent about how God is working out this calling in our lives.  I don't pretend to have any knowledge of how any of this applies to you.