I frustrated Tracie for years over chicken and dumplings — a high-carb dish that, sadly, no longer occupies a place at the top of my requests list. (Don’t let that deter you, ladies of the church; I will break whatever dietary rules I must at your respective houses. It’s just the kind of guy I am.)
Tracie’s dumplings, you see, never suited. And she tried everything. But the consistency was always off. My standard, of course, was what I grew up with — my Mimmee’s chicken and dumplings. The little pieces of chewy, doughy goodness were the highlight of Saturday evening dinner.
Come to find out much later, Mimmee just took raw canned biscuits and cut them in pieces. That was her “secret recipe.” Sorry again, Tracie.
To be fair, Tracie’s dumplings were probably better than Mimmee’s. They just weren’t what I was used to, and therefore incorrect. The problem was with me, not Tracie. Not the first time this phenomenon reared its ugly head. Or the last.
We can take that approach toward spiritual things as well — or, perhaps more accurately put, our application of spiritual things. We can mostly agree, for instance, that the Lord’s Supper should be taken on the first day of the week (Acts 20:7), and that spiritual songs should be sung to honor God and instruct the brethren (Colossians 3:16). It may be that you have become accustomed to performing these tasks in a way that “suits.” And that’s fine. But let’s not blind ourselves to alternative methods that might be more effective and worshipful. And let’s certainly not look down our noses at brethren who dare to reject our “secret recipe.”