Saturday 28 September 2013

The Art of Making a Souffle

"As soon as he had finished speaking to Saul, the soul of Jonathan was knit to the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul." (1 Samuel 18:1)

For over a year now, I've had a second career as a 'chef', having started a Bed and Breakfast with my wife. She is the host, I'm the cook. And I found that I'm pretty darn good at it.

What I love about cooking is the challenge of taking the uniqueness of each ingredient and 'fusing' the best of it with the best of another...and leaving something better (stronger, bolder and more wonderful) in its place. Fusion cooking is a style of cuisine that combines ingredients and techniques from different traditions, cultures and regions. While a culinary style now, I would say even that cuisine is naturally moving to a sort of 'oneness' as the world opens up over time and as chefs and home cooks break down tradition, culture and regional differences. But 'cooking' taken to its most simplest state is 'fusion', taking different individual ingredients and 'fusing' them together to create flavours stronger, bolder, more wonderful than each on its own.

'The soul of Jonathan was knit to the soul of David..."

Knitting or weaving is the interlacing of threads to form fabric. Okay so I don't knit, it's a bit of a lost art replaced by today's machinery. But I draw two important points from this part of the passage. One, like cooking, knitting/weaving takes individual threads (ingredients) and interlaces them to create something new and more wonderful. An individual thread on its own is not very impressive, but threads (ingredients) in the hands of a weaver (chef) can be transformed into something amazing, a beautiful work of art. An amazing coat of many colours...or a soufflé.

"The soufflé isn't the soufflé, the soufflé is the recipe." (Clara Oswald, Doctor Who)

Making a soufflé is an art (or so I've been told as I haven't yet mustered the courage to try to make one). While the ingredients themselves are pretty simple/basic including egg yolks and egg whites, the recipe...which ingredients and how/when they're mixed...is the thing. After that, its a matter of faith. Pop it in the oven and hope it doesn't fall. The souffle isn't the souffle, the souffle is the recipe. Likewise, the knitting of souls between Jonathan and David. If we focus on the relationship only, we miss the knitting recipe or more-so the 'knitter' in the act of artful 'knitting'. Neither Jonathan nor David did the knitting, the Master Weaver did. It's His work of art, designed for His purpose, but ultimately for our good.

Second, the act of interlacing the threads creates something stronger.  The Hebrew word used here for 'knit' is qashar meaning a binding, a joining together. Threads interlaced together can bear more than a single thread. In cooking we call it 'depth of flavour'...ingredients carefully put together create deeper tones and greater depth of flavour. Here Jonathan's soul is knit to David's creating a special and stronger bond than they ever could have forged on their own.

A soufflé ultimately falls whether its in the oven or left to sit for a time. The pinnacle of success is to have your souffle puffed up for 10 minutes or so. What we create can be beautiful in its time, but temporary. Souffles fall, fabrics disintegrate. Even the deep friendship between Jonathan and David was temporary as the each met his grave. But the recipe in the hands of the chef is the thing. The Master Weaver that knit the souls of these two men continues to knit souls together and unto Himself everlasting ("the church").

But knit together how? In Love. In Colossians 2:2 Paul talks about the church is given oneness in the Spirit saying "...Having been knit together IN LOVE...".  Our hearts are knit together in love and its then expressed through love. "Jonathan loved him [David] as his own soul." The souffle is the recipe. Love gives Love out of Love. And Love brings unity, oneness. God's act of knitting souls together continues as the hearts of believers are interlaced together as part of His redemption plan. Patches today. An infinite tapestry and everlasting soufflé tomorrow. The soufflé is the recipe.

Friday 15 February 2013

If I Should Fall Behind

We said we'd walk together 
Baby come what may
That come the twilight should we lose our way
If as we're walkin' a hand should slip free
I'll wait for you
And should I fall behind
Wait for me

We swore we'd travel darlin' side by side
We'd help each other stay in stride
But each lover's steps fall so differently
But I'll wait for you
And if I should fall behind
Wait for me


Now everyone dreams of a love lasting and true
But you and I know what this world can do
So lets make our steps clear that the other may see
And I'll wait for you
If I should fall behind
Wait for me

Now there's a beautiful river in the valley ahead
There neath the oaks bough soon we will be wed
Should we lose each other in the shadow of the evening trees
I'll wait for you
And should I fall behind
Wait for me
Darlin I'll wait for you
Should I fall behind
Wait for me


- Bruce Springsteen -

I was riding into Toronto on my regular morning commute when out of the corner of my eye I noticed two birds flying together in the sky.  Two birds flying just inches apart.  The distance between the two never wavered as they soared ahead seemingly immune to gusts of wind or even the slightest muscle twitch.  Equally remarkable was that they flapped their wings in perfect unison never the least bit out of alignment.  And remarkable it was.  Neither looked back or lost their cadence or rhythm for the other.  It seemed effortless and completely natural as if they were both unaware of each other's presence.  Yet that kind of unity could not be by coincidence or blind luck.  They were tuned to each other and it was natural for them to make small unnoticeable adjustments in the air to stay in unison.  And it occurred to me, isn't that love?

True love I mean.  Beyond the passion and the fire and flame, 'love is patient' right?  Love is not two people going full bore to the end hoping both make it.  It's not pulling or pushing the other along.  It's certainly not leaving the other behind 'cos the other can't keep up nor abandoning the other for another.  Love is moving forward together 'side by side' and 'in stride' 'baby come what may'.  Love is a faithful waiting on the other so that both move forward together.  

'Each lover's steps fall so differently'.  Of course Love knows that we'll fall out of step along the way.  We may even 'lose' each other in the shadows.  Perfection may be the picture of those two birds, but most often we fall well short of that.  But Love asks us to wait for the other.  And Love trusts that the other will.  It says "I will wait for you"!  And with that confidence, we can continue to move forward knowing that the other will be there around the next bend.  

'Let's make our steps clear so that the other may see'.  As we get better at it, the trips and falls aren't as noticeable.  At least that's my hope.  As we increasingly 'know' each other, we get better at adjusting on the fly.  She will know my steps more, I will know hers.  So Love is a constant dance of finding each other, feeling Love's movements and aligning my steps with hers.  And its perfection is found in losing track of who is leading.  It ceases to matter as we will find that we are leading and being led at the same time.    

For myself, I most often find my out of alignment and constantly tripping.  I try to lead, but most often feel completely useless at making the necessary in-air adjustments that Love calls for.   And I don't do well with that feeling of distance and misalignment with her.  It's a lonely and desolate place.  It steals Love's hope.  But trust in Love.  I find this so hard, but I need to find that place where I trust that she will wait for me as I stumble along trying to find the rhythm and cadence.  And I have recently discovered that my true failure is trying to control Love's rhythm. If either bird tried to control that, the perfect unison would inevitably fail.  Seems obvious, but unity requires at least two.   I need to hand over control of Love's rhythm.  It's only in the handing over control of Love's rhythm where perfect unity is possible.  The two become one.  Two separate rhythms become one.  That's how to fly.