Flour, Fire, and Faith: A Baker’s New Beginning

Flour, Fire, and Faith: A Baker’s New Beginning

It has been a routine for me to wake up early in the morning and early means somewhere around 05:00 pm or a bit earlier. I think I have had this early bird practice for the last few decades now. Once I wake and freshen up, I need to have my mug of hot tea or coffee and with the tall mug in my hand I settle down to listen to the Master. Over the years I have tried to make this my regular practice, but yest there spells which are dry, and I really regret those spells. Because it is in those spells, I realize that every time we ignore God’s wisdom and choose another path, we invite calamity. It may seem that our choice is insignificant or only affects us; however, our narrow understanding or fleeting desires can easily lead us into a world of trouble. Choosing God’s way, though, leads us to life and flourishing. And this is very much in context of what the word tells us in Genesis 3:1-7. And I have a small story to share here.

My old friend and workmate, Luca, had years of experience walking the dusty tracks of war-ravaged settlements, being the archetype of an aid worker with a very compassionate heart for the needy. Being a member of the ‘first-responders’, he had transported rice to the hungry, patched up wounds and sang prayers at the ruins of homes in earthquake ravaged Island countries of Sri Lanka and Haiti and the bombarded towns of Iraq, Syria Burkina Faso. However, in the recent times when the conflicts were still on the rise and donor funds were running out, Luca’s job ceased. Aid sector employments began to be less, and he was stranded.

Coming home to the rolling hills of Tuscany, Luca wondered if he’d been discarded like stale bread. In his small kitchen in the countryside, Luca sat wondering if his life still carried any flavor and colour. Because, kneading dough, cutting croissant-like pastries with butter, and alternating cannoli shells did not put an end to his misery, though the ache of purpose lost weighed greatly on him.

One evening, after spending the warm afternoon at Uncle Piero’s farm in the suburbs he got home and began to reread Genesis 3:1–7, a passage that was very familiar to him and in fact even to me. For the first time, the warning of ignoring God’s wisdom struck him like the burn of a too-hot oven. Eve, enticed by something that looked good but led to ruin, reminded Luca of how he had let fear and doubt shape his decisions since leaving aid work. He’d tried to handle his life alone, ignoring God’s voice, just as Eve had.

At that instance, in a pile of flour sacks and mixing bowls, Luca felt that his life was also like a failed recipe when he forgot the wisdom of God. Back in the day, watching his Nonna (grandma), bake had taught him that one wrong move in adding salt or sugar, or yeast could wreck the bread loaf or cake. How much more damage, then, could come from ignoring the perfect “recipe” God had for him?

Luca dropped upon his knees before the hot oven and prayed silently. He submitted his anxieties, his feeling of being lost in life, and he requested God to guide him once more. Gradually, he would start realizing that even baking could be the new ministry- kneading dough with neighbors, baking bread and teaching baking culinary skills to refugees and school dropouts and evening baking some Italian classics for the local church fund raising day, that generated funds to support their outreach mission.

Although a baker relies on the science of flour and fire, Luca still prefers to follow and rely on his God, the living God, the God of Father Abraham, to believe that his life was going to be rebuilt, brilliantly and perfectly through the wisdom of his God. And I find that the same applies for me also in these times when I find myself in Luca’s shoes, only that I am in another country.