I recently had an unusual version of your typical
peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I was
meeting with the confirmation class at the Presbyterian church where I’m
serving as a seminary intern. The pastor
there prepared a “make-it-yourself” lunch buffet with some fruit and sandwich
supplies. In order to create a deeper
sense of community among the group of teenagers, he instructed each person to
make a sandwich for someone else, based on their preferences.I wasn’t trying to make things unnecessarily complicated, but I just so happen to like my PB&J with peanut butter on both pieces of bread. It’s really just a practicality, as it prevents the jelly from bleeding through one side of the bread. I was conditioned from Sunday afternoon hikes in the Adirondacks, where packed lunches were meticulously made for the best possible outcome.
Well, this was an altogether foreign concept for the young woman who had offered to make my sandwich when the confirmation class took a break for lunch. Rather than face the peanut butter-laden pieces of bread inward, safely enveloping the strawberry jelly, she interpreted my instructions somewhat differently.
What she placed before me on the table was an entirely original concoction – an “inside out” sandwich with the top piece of bread loaded with peanut butter on both sides. In reality she had fulfilled my request just as I had described it. It was my mistake not to have specified that I meant to have peanut butter on the inside of both pieces of bread…
Despite the miscommunication, what this thoughtful teenager offered me was the generous gift of food made lovingly with her own unique vision. In fact, it was the best sandwich I’d had in a while, even if it did cover my front teeth with a film of oozing peanut butter.
I was recently asked the rather unexpected question, “What does grace feel or taste like?” This slight mishap over a simple sandwich gave me the perfect response.
Grace is that thick residue of peanut butter that will not slide off the roof of your mouth. It lingers even after all the effort you've made to clean the slate and look presentable. It sticks to your fingers when you try to pick the residue from your back teeth. Yes, grace reaches there too – the hidden corners of your life and jaw line which can never be fully straightened out or neatened up.
If it's not in between your fingernails or stuck in that esophageal tube where it took a detour, the smell still hovers ever so slightly. You hope to sneak a late-afternoon snack in your cubicle at work, smuggling a zip-lock bag with saltines and peanut butter, only to leave the unmistakable after effect of that nutty aroma such that everyone around you starts getting hungry.
But isn’t this nourishment for all to taste? Isn’t this the offering that we all desire? To have God’s love cling to us like thick greasy peanut butter, the organic variety with natural oils bubbling up to the surface.
Mix it up, get your fingers in there, soak up its warm goodness and rest into the knowledge that God's grace will feed you, is already feeding you, always has been feeding you - like the one staple grocery item in your cupboard that never goes bad, and if you’re like me, you just can’t get enough of.
