She won immunity with Deconstructed Black Forest Cake.
Mrs. Sweetie and I are fans of the Master Chef television show—one of the many ventures of iconic celebrity chef Gordon Ramsay.
The current season (11) invited back 40 contestants from the previous 10 seasons to return and compete for a chance to win the Master Chef title that eluded them in their previous attempt.
In the most recent episode we watched, the contestants had to cook an elevated version of the dish that got them eliminated the last time. The one whose dish was judged as the best would win immunity from the next elimination challenge.
Emily, an amazing baker, was a promising contestant from a previous season. But the Black Forest Cake that she attempted collapsed as she was constructing it, resulting in her elimination.
This time around, she made a Deconstructed Black Forest Cake. It had all the same ingredients, but they were rearranged and presented differently across the plate, so there was nothing that could collapse.
And—as the first line of this post indicated—hers was judged to be the best dish of the night.
For the past several years, more and more is being written about deconstructed faith. Books, articles, and blog posts abound on the subject and tension continues to rise between those who are proponents of the deconstruction and those who are critics.
I readily admit that this is a gross over-simplification of the issue, but I hope it will help frame it for the limited length of this post:
Some proponents of the deconstruction may have found themselves disillusioned by the faith passed on to them. Some feel that they have been deceived, manipulated, or marginalized. They may have found something lacking in what was delivered to them as truth—and the structures and systems that resulted—and they are not sure what to do with it.
Critics of the deconstruction may have felt that the proponents have tried to destroy or abandon the faith in their deconstruction of it. They may view deconstruction as an unfair and uninformed attack by those who didn’t have a strong enough foundation of faith from the start.
Might I suggest that we could learn something from the kitchen?
Emily’s deconstructed cake did not completely abandon the concept of a black forest cake and replace it with a fish sandwich. She didn’t suggest that all black forest cakes should be destroyed because the ingredients are all faulty and no one should ever make a black forest cake again.
All the essential ingredients were still there. She just abandoned the familiar form, structure, and presentation and highlighted the ingredients in a different way—a way defined by those essential ingredients rather than by the traditional structure.
Working backwards from this idea: A grandmother in Mrs. Sweetie’s family, who was usually a wonderful cook, once served a truly awful pie when she accidentally swapped the sugar for salt. The form was correct, but the ingredients were corrupted by one misplaced seasoning.
Is it possible that we sometimes cling more tightly to the structures of faith than the essential components of faith? Can the message get lost in the methods?
Could we possibly be strengthened in genuine faith by taking some of those structures apart and allowing God to rebuild them in us in a less familiar format?
Revelation 21:5 – “He who was seated on the throne said, ‘I am making everything new!’”
Be amazing today, my friend.
