Let’s talk toast.
Personally, I’m a fan. Can you say, “Best breakfast food ever?” But it has its downsides. For instance, toast is brittle, and if you get a little too excited with the toaster buttons, it comes out hardened, blackened and just plain crusty. And don’t even think about trying to dunk some; the words “soggy toast” make me want to run for cover.
When I worked at a church camp this summer, I was informed by a pastor that we, in fact, are no different. Sometimes we hang out too close to the heat, and we find ourselves blackened by sin. Sometimes we string ourselves up so tight that we break at the slightest provocation, and leave little crumblies everywhere, a mess that someone else has to clean up.
We are toast. Every day, we are charred by our sins, sins that mark us as disobedient, failures, and flawed.
We’re toast. Does that make you uncomfortable?
It should make you uncomfortable, if for no reason other than as a reminder that we cannot do everything by ourselves. Humans are imperfect beings. We fail. We disobey. We forget to ask for help. We let ourselves get too busy to pray. We turn the toaster oven setting way past seven and light the cafeteria on fire. It happens. It’s inevitable.
“So, Sarah,” you ask. “What’s the good news?”
Yes, we are toast. But the good news is, Jesus is the untoaster. Does such a thing exist? No. But we’re talking about Jesus, here. Miracles are a thing.
Jesus is here to remind us that, at the heart of it all, we are still bread. Every morning when we wake up, we start off as a nice little slice of supple, moldable, malleable, soft bread. Bread absorbs and grows and becomes better for it (think French toast and turkey stuffing). And, depending on the grain (because if it’s rye, you broke my metaphor), bread is white, clean, pure and sinless.
This is because each day, we are made fresh. We are made new in Christ. We scoot our little buns straight out of that oven every day, molded and made lovingly by the world’s Best Baker, who brushes off our mistakes and crumbs and puts us out into the world, all warm and doughy and completely capable of filling others with the same yeasty goodness he gave to us, too (that would be the Word).
Yes, we’re toast. We are toasted every day, and sometimes we’re dunked and broken and scattered all over in little bitty pieces. But Jesus is the untoaster. Jesus is the bread of life.