Dressed for battle


Sermon for August 22nd, 2021


Joshua 24:1-2a,14-18
Psalm 34:15-22
Ephesians 6:10-20
John 6:56-69

It is important to remember when you hear St. Paul speaking in his letter to the Ephesians, it is important to remember, that he is in prison. Paul got into trouble with some of the Jewish authorities in Jerusalem for his preaching, he was arrested, and because he was a Roman citizen he requested and got a change of venue to Rome where he spent the last two years of his life imprisoned. So this man who fought with the Jewish authorities and was kept in chains by the Roman authorities, this man who we know suffered in his body, writes to the Christians in Ephesus and says:  

“our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.”

Wait a sec…Paul, who is being physically held captive by the Romans, says that the struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh? You mean to tell me that Paul thinks that the real enemy is NOT the Romans or the Jews? Yes, I think that is precisely what Paul is saying. Our struggle, as Christians, as people who have allied ourselves with the son of God, is really against the rulers, the authorities, the cosmic powers of this present darkness, as Paul says, or the spiritual forces of evil. That is the real enemy: the powers of darkness and the forces of evil. Our struggle as Christians is with them. We may have physical enemies in this world, we may suffer and be oppressed, but those struggles are secondary to the spiritual struggle. We are easily distracted sometimes by the enemies of blood and flesh, but the bigger and more important battle is the spiritual one. Essentially what Paul is saying is that we should not get so distracted by these little side battles that we lose focus on the real war that is actually going on. But it is easy for us to get distracted, even for people of faith.

You know, there have been a lot of arguments in the past, especially among some historical and critical scholars of the bible over whether it was really the Romans or the Jewish Temple authorities that are really responsible for having Jesus crucified. But don’t you see, no matter which side of that argument you come down on, you are missing the real conflict that is happening here! This isn’t about a struggle between Jews and Romans. This is about the fight between good and evil. This is about the struggle between God and the forces of darkness. This is a spiritual battle that involves flesh and blood, but is about so much more than one man’s life. You know, when Jesus was arrested he said to those who were putting him in chains: “this is your hour, and the power of darkness.” The powers of darkness were responsible for having Jesus crucified, and yes it was darkness working with and through human beings, but don’t go thinking that you can just blame Pontius Pilate or Caiphas for this and let it go, like they are the only ones who ever leant the powers of darkness a helping hand. The spiritual battle that is happening on the cross affects all of us; we are all a part of it.

The crucifixion is a historical event, but the cross represents a battle that transcends place and time as we know it. The cross is about the cosmic struggle between darkness and light, good and Evil, or God and Satan that is taking place in every age, in every country and society, and even within every person. The cross is about a struggle that is happening right now in all of our lives, and I will let you in on a little secret or insight…if you look at the cross…without the eyes of faith or the knowledge of God’s power, if you look at this symbol and don’t know what happened three days later, if you don’t know about Easter, then it is always going to look like the darkness is winning. Always. 

But what if you do know how the story ends? What if you knew that this man was victorious in this fight? What if this is a reminder to you that in this cosmic battle between light and darkness that evil only ever appears to have the upper hand, but in the end is always defeated and thrown down and trampled underfoot by God? Could that change how you live? Could that give you some perspective on who the real enemy is in this world and which battles are more important? Would that change how you look at suffering?

Well it did for Paul. Paul could sit in prison and realize that his real struggle wasn’t with his captors. His real struggle was with darkness. The powers of darkness. That is how Paul, earlier in his ministry when he had found himself in jail was able to minister to and even convert his jailor. As much as he was being oppressed by this man, Paul knew that he wasn’t the real enemy. And here’s the other thing Paul knew, Paul knew that you don’t have to be sitting in a jail cell to be struggling with those forces of evil. Everyone is assaulted by them. It may come in different forms, but man or woman, young or old, rich or slave, we are all going to have to struggle with evil in some form. So what is the best way to fight it? What is the best way to defend ourselves against the real enemy in this world? Well, first off, make sure you are dressed for battle. Paul gives the Christians in Ephesus some very practical advice by way of a metaphor: put on the whole armor of God. Paul encourages these Christians to think about spiritual weapons like pieces of a soldier’s armor:

He says fasten the belt of truth around your waist. Lies only serve the devil. Those who worship God must worship in spirit and in truth. Jesus said I am the truth. Remember that the person in the gospel that questions the importance of truth is Pilate, the man who ordered Jesus to be executed. Truth is a spiritual weapon.

And the next is righteousness. Paul says “put on the breastplate of righteousness.” Now I hasten to add here that Paul is not talking about self-righteousness; he’s not talking about being puffed up and conceited and arrogant. Paul is talking about guarding your hearts, like a breastplate, with the motivation of goodness. Are you seeking righteousness? Not have you lived perfectly, but are you trying to do the right thing in all your actions? Are you seeking to live a moral life? Do you believe that right and wrong truly exist? That is righteousness.

The next thing Paul says is you need shoes that will make you ready to proclaim the gospel of peace. Telling other people about the peace that only comes from knowing God; telling the gospel story, telling people how this really ends, that is a powerful weapon.

But of course, Christians need to be prepared for the resistance that the darkness is going to throw back at them. The devil isn’t going quietly, so you need a shield of faith, a helmet of the knowledge of your salvation, and a sword that is the word of God. Knowing the word, reading the word, listening to God speak through the word that is your best defense against the powers of darkness in this world. Just be sure that you have a good grip on it and aren’t just dabbling in verses here and there, because you know, the devil can quote scripture too.

Finally, Paul adds, pray. Pray at all times. Yes, there is real physical work to be done, but it must always be accompanied before and behind with prayer. Prayer is a powerful reminder that no matter what our circumstances are, the real battle that we are fighting is a spiritual one, and therefore we need to make sure that we are properly equipped with spiritual weapons. 

Now maybe you don’t like Paul’s militaristic metaphor and imagery, maybe it makes you a little uncomfortable, but when I look at the world around me, when I reflect on what is going on in the lives of the people I know, and when I think of what has happened in my own life, the only conclusion that I can come to is that spiritual warfare is real. Yeah, we all have some material and physical problems from time to time, maybe even all the time, but our real problems are the spiritual problems. Yes, the enemies of flesh and blood can hurt us, but that kind of pain and oppression is nothing compared to despair, or hopelessness, or anger, or hatred. So fight the spiritual battles first. 

Every day there is a spiritual victory to be had. Every day there is joy to be had, and hope and grace and love to be shared. Every day there is a reason to give thanks to God. If you know how this story ends, then you have a reason to rejoice today, no matter what enemies of flesh and blood you may have. But remember that there is nothing the devil wants more than to so consume you and distract you with what he is doing, that you lose all sight of what God is doing. Satan wants you to be so obsessed with all the pain and suffering in this world that you feel guilty for even being happy. The devil wants you to be so overwhelmed by all the junk you see that you just want to give up and give in. That is the spiritual battle that we are fighting every day in our world and in ourselves. But as our final hymn today confidently proclaims: “Hell’s foundations quiver at the shout of praise.” Nothing threatens the devil more than joyful, thankful Christians. We are not phony or blind to the suffering in the world, but we know that there is victory beyond it. We can be joyful, even when getting dressed for daily spiritual battles, because we already know how the war ends.

Onward, then, ye people,
join our happy throng,
Blend with ours your voices
in the triumph song;
Glory, laud, and honor,
unto Christ the King;
This thro’ countless ages
we with angels sing.

Low Anthropology – High Christology


Sermon for August 8th, 2021


1 Kings 19:4-8
Psalm 34:1-8
Ephesians 4:25-5:2
John 6:35, 41-51

Before I really begin my sermon this morning there are two fancy theological terms that I want to make sure we are all acquainted with: anthropology and Christology.

Anthropology is the study of human beings.

Christology is the study of Jesus Christ. 

In the church world, your anthropology is your view of the role of human beings in history. How willing and capable are human beings to do good things, to change themselves, and to make a positive impact on the world?

Your Christology on the other hand is your view of the role of Jesus Christ in history. Was he a cool and clever teacher that just came to teach us how to help ourselves and then was put to an untimely death, or was he God incarnate, the savior of the world, who offers his life as a sacrifice for our sins?

I am sure that I have mentioned this before, but I have what you might classify as a low anthropology, exceedingly low actually, snake belly low. What that means is, that I basically think human beings are pretty awful creatures. We have neither the will, nor the capability to be consistently good or smart. Now I want to point out here that I didn’t come to this conclusion from reading the Bible, or at least the Bible isn’t first place where I saw evidence of humans being bad and dumb. It was history. I was a student of history before I was a student of the Bible. And what history has taught me, is that throughout time, human beings have NEVER been consistently good (magnanimous, self-giving, compassionate, loving, caring, honest, trustworthy), we may have breakthrough moments, but we have never been consistently good, AND we have NEVER been consistently smart (and by smart I mean ‘wise,’ using our brains and making decisions based on good evidence). We have never done these things consistently. Never, never, never. Yes, we can, and have accomplished amazing things, we can build amazing buildings, we can treat and cure lots of diseases; and we can, at times, be very noble, we can sacrifice our lives for the lives of others, we can be giving and loving. But we have never, not in the thousands of years of recorded history, we have never proven ourselves capable of being consistently good and smart without fail. 

Now you may start to object and say that this is a very pessimistic, negative view. You may think that this sounds depressing and hopeless, but it’s not at all. In fact, this low anthropology of mine is the key to the joy, the peace and the hope I have in this world. Granted, I don’t emote a lot, and I may not very often jump up and down and squeal with glee, but I do have great joy and I have a powerful hope, but they don’t come from my anthropology; my joy and my hope don’t come from any expectations I have for my fellow human beings. My joy and my hope come from that other fancy theological word we just heard: my Christology. I have a high Christology. My joy and my hope come from God. Specifically, my joy and my hope come from what I believe that God has done and revealed in Jesus Christ. 

Human beings have consistently, throughout time acted in selfish and self-destructive ways, and God has shown us in the life of his son Jesus Christ, that that is NOT his will for us or our lives. Jesus calls us to forsake sin, to repent and change our lives, BUT he also still loves us enough that he is willing to die for us while we are still these sinful, awful creatures. Jesus commands us to love God and to love our neighbors, and he knows darned well just how incapable we are of doing either one of those things with great consistency. How is the devoted follower of Christ supposed to live with this tension? 

You know, I think the Apostle Paul gives some great practical advice sometimes. Paul is well aware of this tension between our sinful selves and what God is calling us to be. Sometimes Paul describes it as the difference between the Old Adam and the New Adam. In his letter to the church in Ephesus that we heard a portion of this morning, Paul is distinguishing between the Old Man and the New Man. And he makes the point, that while we are often inclined to do one thing, what we need to do, as followers of Christ, is the exact opposite. 

Do you remember that Seinfeld episode where George came to the realization that his life was such a mess that he should try to always do the exact opposite of what he would normally do? I think that is what Paul is sort of trying to suggest here. The old man in you is inclined to do this; why don’t you try this for a change? Instead of lying for your own sake, why don’t you try telling the truth for someone else’s sake? Instead of stealing, why don’t you try working and not just working for your own benefit, but working so that you will have extra that you can share with others? Working for someone else’s sake. Instead of using your words to tear people down, why don’t you try using them to build people up? Instead of being bitter and angry all the time, why don’t you try being forgiving? Try doing the opposite. This is important advice, because NEWSFLASH, human beings are not always naturally inclined to do the right thing. We are complex creatures with a whole range of emotions and motivations for why we do what we do, but what history has proven, beyond a shadow of a doubt in my opinion at least, is that we are not capable of being consistently good or consistently smart. 

If your worldview is such that you need other people to be good or smart in order for you to find some peace and joy in the world, well I’m sorry but you are setting yourself up for a life of frustration and misery. You are expecting humans to be something that they are not. If your daily happiness is contingent on everyone else around you doing what they ought to do, showing care and concern for others, or being simply competent or rational or reasonable, then I hope you like being miserable, because you’re going to be. If your hope is based upon the belief that humanity as a whole is going to someday wake up and be consistently good and smart, well I guess I just don’t see much hope in that. If you think that human beings are just going to wake up one day and start being nice to one another and sensible in all their decision making, then you believe in miracles even more than I do, and I believe in the resurrection! 

Now that doesn’t mean that I don’t think there is room for anger when people do selfish and stupid things. Oh no. Of course there is room for anger and disappointment, but you have to find a way of letting go of the anger and getting past it, or it will eat you alive. Anger isn’t sinful in itself, but it can become its own sin real quick if you don’t watch it. It can become resentment and despair and hatred. And you know what happens when you let yourself hate something? You become it. You will become the very thing you hate. If you go around resenting people for being sinners, you’re going to become the worst sinner of all, I guarantee it. 

You know, living through all this covid stuff, I am remined on a daily basis how much we humans are neither consistently good nor smart. Yeah, we can be amazingly compassionate and clever sometimes, but we can also be selfish and dumb. All this time I find myself stuck here in the middle between folks who can’t be bothered to take the most basic and reasonable precautions, not only for their own sakes but for the sakes of others, and then on the other side are the hand wringers who either live in constant perpetual fear of every sneeze, or who think that if we keep people from living that we will somehow be able to keep them from dying. Fear and resentment on this side; fear and resentment on that side.

You’ve got the people that don’t want to pay any attention to science at all, and then you have the people that think science must have the answer to all our problems. You’ve got the people who don’t think we should bother trying to fix anything, and then you’ve got the people who think we can fix everything. 

And here I am, stuck in the middle, I’m sure with a whole bunch of other sensible folks just like myself. Naturally I think that I am sensible and that anyone either to the left or the right of me is foolish, but there we are. Do I get angry? Yes, but I’m not going to let the fact that humans insist on doing what humans have always done steal the real joy and hope from my life. You know, if it weren’t covid, there would be some other reason for you to be annoyed with how other people are behaving. How they vote, how they drive, what color they painted their house…people are going to continue to make bad decisions and sometimes, sadly, those decisions are going to have a direct effect on you. But it has ALWAYS been this way, ever since our ancestors started building their mudhuts next to each other. You can’t get 4 chapters into the Book of Genesis before you find humans getting annoyed with one another and even killing each other. If my hope, as a Christian, were based upon humanity’s ability to make good decisions it would be a very flimsy hope indeed. 

But you see, that’s not where my hope resides. As I said, my anthropology is low, but my Christology is high. My hope and my joy come from Jesus. Now that doesn’t mean that I think Jesus is just going to fix everything for us; it’s not that simplistic. Someday God’s kingdom is gonna be fully realized on earth, but that will be the last day and it will be a day that comes in God’s time, not ours. But until that day comes, Jesus has shown me a better way to live; it is a way that frequently involves doing the opposite of what I am inclined to do. But even when I fail to do that, even when I fail to live the way that God wants me to live, even when I fail to be good and wise…there is still love and there is still forgiveness. That is why Paul says “be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you.”  I am reminded that no matter how sensible I think I am today, at some point in my life I have not been good, I have not been smart, and I have needed forgiveness. That is the way humans are. My hope and my joy are not based on the unreasonable expectation that humans on this side of glory are ever going to be anything else. My hope and my joy come from knowing that each and every time we fall, God is there to forgive us and pick us back up again. Yes, I think God wants us to make good decisions, but I know that he still loves us when we make bad ones. That is good news, that is true joy, that is real hope. And that my friends it doesn’t come from anthropology; it comes from Christology.

Biscuits, Brenda Gantt, and the Bread of Life


Sermon for Sunday, August 1st, 2021


Exodus 16:2-4,9-15
Psalm 78:23-29
Ephesians 4:1-16
John 6:24-35

I am taking the long road in my sermon this morning, but please come along with me. I promise, I do have a point and I will eventually get to it. 

Many of you know that when I was an undergraduate, I did a summer term at Oxford University in England. That experience is actually part of how I became an Episcopalian, but that is another story. But while I was there studying, and mind you this was my first time outside the United States, while I was there I started to have cravings for a biscuit. Now I know that this is New York and y’all think a lot of your bagels, and yes, I can appreciate a really good bagel, but I will never love them or crave them in the same way that I do biscuits. Biscuits were a staple for us. Grandma always had them on the table, maybe not at every meal, but at most of them. They are a part of my culture. Now here is something that you need to know if you don’t already know it: biscuits are not really a part of British culture. I love England. I have lots of friends in England. And the English have some wonderful food, but they don’t really have biscuits. They have the word “biscuit,” but the word biscuit in England means a cookie, not the fine, flakey quick-bread that we make with shortening and buttermilk and flour. Now I wasn’t going hungry, but for some reason I just really wanted a biscuit. So in-between studying and exploring churches and castles, I was also looking for a biscuit. I figured maybe their McDonald’s would have a sausage biscuit, but no. No biscuits. Then I tried KFC. Surely if they sold fried chicken they would also sell biscuits. No luck. No biscuits there either. This was getting serious. I remember at one point trying to explain to some of my lovely English hosts what an “American Biscuit” was because they had no idea what I was talking about, and I said “well, it’s kind of like what you call a scone, but it’s usually lighter and fluffier and buttery.” “Huh” they said, and just kinda shrugged it off. It didn’t really mean anything to them. 

You know, at the time I thought I was just having a strange craving, but looking back now I realize that it wasn’t just my stomach I was trying to fill. I wasn’t just longing for a fluffy piece of bread, I was longing for a symbol. 

I think sometimes we misuse or misunderstand the word “symbol.” We talk about symbols like they aren’t real things or aren’t important. I myself have used the expression “just a symbol.” But symbols are real things, and they are powerfully important. Symbols are little things that connect us to much bigger things. They are physical things that connect us and reconnect us to memories and stories. And symbols show up all the time in everyday life. In fact, that is when they are the most powerful. Think about bread for a second. Growing up we would buy sliced bread or yeast bread from the store for things like sandwiches, but we never made that at home. At home, the everyday bread that we made was either cornbread or biscuits. As I mentioned, my grandmother loved them. I can remember watching her make them when I was little. She would bring out this giant green Tupperware bowl from under the counter that she kept her flour in, make a well in the center with her fist, pour in some milk and oil and start to work it with her hand, drawing in little bits of flour as she gets it to just the right consistency, then shaped it into biscuits, and baked them off. Whenever the family gathered you can be reasonably sure that there would be biscuits on the table. So to me, a biscuit isn’t just a piece of bread, it is so much more than that. It is a symbol of a whole world of relationships: it reminds me of the South and my family and my grandmother, and my aunts and uncles and cousins in South Georgia. It reminds me of a dialect, and of values, and my faith. All those stories told over the dinner table and all the while this little piece of bread was there, just absorbing it all. A biscuit is about so much more, to me at least, than just a piece of bread. I didn’t realize that when I was on my first trip to England, but I do now. 

This all became more clear to me very recently when I discovered Ms. Brenda Gantt. Now if you don’t know who Brenda Gantt is, I will share with you a link to her Facebook page and some of her videos. Brenda Gantt is a grandmother in South Alabama, who about a year or so ago started recording videos with her phone, standing in her kitchen teaching folks how to cook. She now has over two million followers I believe, and the video that really turned her into something of an internet sensation was one of her showing how to make biscuits the traditional way. Well you know I had to watch. Ms. Brenda takes her big bowl of flour, makes a well in it with her first, pours in the buttermilk…I think you are beginning to get the picture. She was doing almost exactly what my grandmother did. In so many ways she was reconnecting me with my grandmother who died several years ago: through some of her words and phrases and mannerisms, but most importantly in the food she was cooking. Food just has this amazing symbolic power to connect people. It is a connection that isn’t just happening in your head either, your whole body is a part of it. So naturally I have been watching Ms. Brenda just about every day, not just for recipes, but also because when you watch her you just feel like you are hanging out with her in the kitchen. She talks about what she did today, and what her family is doing, and very often she will talk about her faith or even read from the scriptures. You get the sense that this has very much become a ministry for her. And you know, watching her, and seeing the love that she just pours into her followers and into the food she is making for her family, I at least feel very ministered to. In one video, she invites a pastor friend over and the celebrate communion right there on her chopping block. There was another video, and I forget what Ms. Brenda was making, but while she was cooking she grabbed this very long dish towel that was clearly designed to be worn around the neck. Now I haven’t seen that type of dish towel before, it looks kind of handy, but when she put it on and stood before her big chopping block island in the middle of her kitchen, well darned if she didn’t look a lot like a priest saying mass with a stole on. Now to my knowledge Ms. Brenda is not ordained and in any event she is a Baptist and Baptists don’t usually wear stoles, so I don’t think the she was trying to look like a minister, she was trying to fix supper, but for me as a good Episcopalian who loves traditions and signs and symbols, well for me it caught my eye as if God was trying to get my attention and say “pay attention now, because there is something important going on here.” Maybe Ms. Brenda isn’t ordained, but the act of pouring your own life and your own love into some food that is then going to give life and joy to others, that is a priestly act. It is a sacrificial act. And it is an act that Our Lord himself performs. 

Jesus feeds people. Not just spiritually or metaphorically. Jesus literally feeds people. And this is not a one-time thing in the gospels; it happens over and over again. Feeding people is important to Jesus. Even after the Resurrection, Jesus tells Peter, “if you love me, then feed my sheep.” In today’s gospel reading that you heard just a minute or so ago, Jesus had just been feeding the five thousand, and people are still following him and looking for him. And Jesus says to them, right now you are following me because you are hungry. “You are looking for me…because you ate your fill of the loaves.” But Jesus offers us more than just a piece of bread that fills you up one minute and is gone the next. What he is really offering people, through his food, is relationship with him. That is the food that leads to eternal life: bread that is more than just flour and water, but that is a symbol or our relationship with God. Bread that is a reminder of God’s love and care for his children, just like the fine, flaky manna in the wilderness. Bread that is life-giving in a way that includes the body, but that is really about so much more than a cure for hunger. Bread that feeds us with God’s own life. Bread that connects us to others that we love. Bread that reminds us of stories, and values, and expressions, and physical actions. Bread that is really a little piece, a little taste of a whole other world. 

Is that too much to ask of a little piece of bread? Well, I don’t know. If grandma or Ms. Brenda can do that with a simple biscuit, what can the Lord of all creation do with a little dough? If this flaky piece of bread can reconnect me to my past and remind me of who I am; if this can feed me both physically and spiritually, and I just baked it this morning, then what can the bread that Jesus gives me do?

Jesus says in the gospel today that “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.” When Jesus gives us bread, he isn’t just giving us a snack to tide us over. It is his own life that is offered. He isn’t just giving us a piece of bread. He is offering us a relationship, an eternal relationship with him. In this church, right before we receive communion, we say the Prayer of Humble Access, which many of you know is my favorite prayer in the entire prayer book, and right at the end of that prayer we say: “Grant us therefore, gracious Lord, so to eat the flesh of thy dear son Jesus Christ, and to drink his blood, that we may evermore dwell in him, and he in us.” Whenever we participate in the Lord’s supper we are renewing our relationship with Jesus Christ. We are re-inviting him to be a part of our lives and asking him to be a part of his. And we believe that in that whole act of drawing us together, uniting us with his life, and uniting us to each other, and recalling stories, and values, and God’s love…we believe that Jesus is really and truly present in that act. Sure Jesus is present in our lives in other ways, but he is especially present in this way. And the symbol of his presence, is a little piece of bread that points to a whole world of relationships. 

That is why we treat the bread of communion with so much reverence and respect here. Because we believe that Jesus is touching our lives in a very special way through it. It isn’t just a reenactment of something that happened a long time ago; we aren’t just using Jesus’s recipe here, we are asking him to be the chef. It is God’s heavenly feast that we are invited to be a part of. We don’t always understand exactly how God is working through communion, and maybe we shouldn’t try to over-define it and just take Jesus at his word: this is my body; this is my blood. “Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me and I in him.” It is a mystery and it is miraculous, and I am ok with that. I want to be a part of this meal, because I want to be a part of Jesus’s life and the life of his people. 

Whenever I eat a biscuit, I am reminded that I come from biscuit eating people, and I become a biscuit eating person once again. And not that there is anything wrong with scones and bagels, they can be lovely, as can the people that eat them, but I have no doubt that I will die a biscuit eating person, and until that day comes I will try and spread the good news about biscuits to the non-biscuit eating world, much like Ms. Brenda is doing and I pray for God’s blessing upon her. 

But as much as this bread means to me, there is another piece of bread that means more to me than a biscuit, and it is far more important that we all spread the good news about it. Because it’s not just a piece of bread. It is a symbol of the heavenly feast. It is a little piece of another world, that God has given us here. It isn’t just bread; it is a relationship with the saviour. We treat this bread with a lot of reverence here, because really, what could be more precious than a relationship with Jesus?

Here is the link to the Cooking with Brenda Gantt Facebook Page:

Cooking with Brenda Gantt

Here is the biscuit video that started it all: