Unauthorized Church Bake Sale-By Bryan Hupperts

Unauthorized Church Bake Sale-By Bryan Hupperts

bryanhupperts@hotmail.com


Unauthorized Church Bake Sale

She was driving past a church when she saw a sign advertising an Unauthorized Church Bake Sale. Why would a church bake sale be unauthorized? Curiosity got the better of her so she parked and waked on to the lot following the luscious scent of conflicting aromas.

There was bread everywhere; rolls, cakes, loaves. The scent of baked goods was delicious, tantalizing, calling all to feast. She noticed several officiating Judges moving from table to table and realized there was a contest being held. The grand prize to be awarded was the coveted blue ribbon that proclaimed: Bread of Life.

She had one of those Holy Spirit warning moments; a verse about those whose “God is their belly,” rang her alarm bell deep within. Though sorely tempted, she decided she would not risk defiling herself with any of the bread until she knew for certain which really was the Bread of Life.

The bake sale offered something for every appetite, a special bread just for you. The ritualistically pious were drawn to bread that had mysterious images of Jesus and the Virgin Mary that had suddenly appeared in the crust. The non-ritualistically pious were drawn to the hot cross buns. They seemed to have a side contest going to see whose hot cross image was bigger.

And the snack cakes! As a former unbeliever, she knew well the taste of Snickerdoodles. She was amazed at the numbers of snickering, scoffing unbelievers in the church yard that readily scarfed them down. Scoffers dine willingly on unbelief, their ravenous appetites never satiated. Why would anyone believe this stuff, sweet as it was, was the Bread of Life? She walked on.

There was a shouting war flaring up between a table of white breads and another table of brown breads, each claiming superiority over the other arguing authoratively that the Bread of Life was either White or Brown depending on which table you stood behind. No one on the outside of this ghastly display of enslavement would touch their moldy breads though those eating at the respective tables didn’t seem to notice the worms and dry crusts, probably from over familiarity. Again, she walked on.

There were fruit loaves that demanded special treatment and acceptance. While contest rules specifically forbade fruit in the mixture, the fruit loaf lovers demanded that the rules be set aside for them. After all, they found themselves described in the Bible as Romans-One-Meal bread.

There were delightful twisted loaves that smelled almost heavenly but there was something not quite right, something… well, twisted to them. How could anything truly heavenly be twisted? Still, it smelled wonderful, lilting in the breeze and she almost convinced herself this must be the genuine Bread of Life. Still, remembering her vow, she refrained with a sigh and moved on.

There were cream puffs aplenty but they quickly melted in the sun. Then there was a newcomer: Prosperity bread. You eat it and it fills you again and again till you die from malnutrition. They can’t seriously believe this fraud is the Bread of Life, yet obviously many did.
Uneasiness began to crawl up her tingling spine. Suspicious, she squinted and noticed the small print on each display card bearing the names the various breads. Adjusting her glasses a bit to read the fine print, she was horrified to read: Made proudly with the Leven of the Pharisees.

While leaven will make something quickly rise, she knew this was against Luke 12:1 where Jesus said, “Beware ye of the leaven of the Pharisees, which is hypocrisy.”

Alarmed, she stood up and shouted to the Judges, “These breads are tainted. They are rife with pride, made with the leaven of the Pharisees. Instead of the taste test alone, why not look at the ingredients? Will not the true Bread of Life will be pure, holy and undefiled?”

A momentarily hush swept over the feasting crowd only to be dispelled by the angry retorts that came hurling in like rocks. “Oh, come on. You don’t think this dough will rise by itself, do you? We bake according to our tastes. We’re serving God, helping him with our added ingredients. We know what the people want.”

She reached in her Bible and pulled out a Leven-O-Meter and began to test the breads for their leaven contest. Ironically, many of the contest Judges started screaming, “Judge Not! Judge Not! How DARE you judge this bread?” as the Meter clicked madly on like a Geiger counter at ground zero.

Fearing a riot, one of the Judges grabbed her arm, pulling her aside to a popular, though out of the way, table under the sign, “Day Old Bread.” The Judge quietly explained that, while the other breads technically were disqualified because they took a short cut and used the leaven, the fast rising yeast of the Pharisees, they did help “spread the Word,” and besides, up till now, few had complained.

Gathered at the Day Old Bread rack were true, though forlorn looking, believers chewing away on dry, brittle crusts. She squinted to read the ingredients list and, sure enough, this was indeed genuine Bread of Life. But why would Bread of Life be so tasteless and lifeless? It didn’t look particularly appetizing but it was the genuine article. That’s when she noticed the Clearance sign.
"Not very fresh, is it?” she asked. The Judge, trying to placate her, said, “No, it not exactly fresh. That’s why it’s for sale, dirt cheap. Still, this is genuine Bread of Life. A Stranger comes and gives us the extra loaves he cannot give away. Try your Leven-O-Meter and see. It’s just a few extra days old and a bit past its freshness, that’s all. We sell a lot of this.”

While her Leven-O-Meter confirmed this was indeed Bread of Life, she suddenly remembered the Bible story about the manna, the bread of heaven, coming down and needing to be collected daily or it would turn wormy and moldy. Like God’s mercies, it had to be sought for anew every day.

“Do you have any fresh Bread of Life? Not the cheap day old stuff, but the today’s Bread?” she asked, her voice carrying further than she intended. The place went silent as the Judges and contestants drew their collective breath. And the barrage of insults began. In what sounded like an angry run-on sentence, she was told:

… Bread of Life is made by grinding pure grain against a stone in a mortar and pedestal… too work-intensive… old fashioned way that takes too long and cannot not be mass produced or mass marketed. .. the world is hungry for bread so we manufacture ours with a little extra additive for the masses cheaply and quickly….maybe not the healthiest stuff around but add a little high fructose corn syrup and it turns sweet… it’s almost as good as...

And she found herself thrown out laying face down on the street, her Leaven-O-Meter smashed to bits. She had been banned from the contest for having a “critical spirit.” The contest went on without her. Shaken and upset, she picked herself up and headed towards her car when a Stranger appeared from the crowd and approached her. “I came today hoping to find someone who truly hungers for the Bread of Life,” he said, motioning towards the crowd. “For even the few who find it, most willingly settle for the leftovers.”

“Yeah,” she said, “I saw that. And I was nearly killed for my efforts.” Smiling, he produced from beneath his coat an ordinary unbroken loaf of bread. “This is the Bread of Life you seek. Break it and eat.”

She looked at this ordinary looking loaf of Bread suspiciously, asking, “Why didn’t I see this at the bake sale contest? Have you eaten from it? If so, why is it not broken?” And the Stranger smiled again explaining that each of us individually have to take hold of the Bread of Life and break it ourselves because it was once broken for each of us.

She was beset by a hunger, driven by an appetite she could not explain. The Stranger with the Bread had her full attention. “How much?” she asked, hoping for a bargain.

The staggering cost was laid before her. In an unflinching voice, he said, “Your dreams, your hopes, your sins and failures, all that you hope to be and all that you fear you’ll become. You past, present and future, all claims to your own self life; in short, to eat this Bread will cost you everything.”

She could hear the din of the Unauthorized Bake Sale contest happening in the church parking lot – they had chosen this years’ winner - and she grieved for them. They truly did not understand what they were doing.

She took the precious loaf and felt a sting in her soul as she raised it up unto God and broke it in half and began to eat. Satisfaction filed her soul and, as she passed from death to life, she now understood that it was now her calling to seek out those who truly hungered for the Bread of Life, those who would accept no substitution. And the loaf broken by her hands was whole again.

The Stranger smiled and said, “Come Sister, let’s be about our Father’s business. The night is quickly coming when no man can work.” With the precious Bread of Life in hand, they turned their backs on the Unauthorized Bake Sale and headed for the highways and byways.

Bryan Hupperts © 2008

http://www.sheeptrax.com/




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