May I tell you a rather delightful story that was reported to me from our local Sunday School?
Apparently, during last Sunday morning service, the children in the Sunday School were encouraged to make bread. This, they were told, was to be symbolic of Jesus' great claim, "I am the bread of life", the culmination to other references to bread in the Bible. The bread they baked, it was explained, would be something that they could pass round to their family and friends after the service - just as Jesus did.
In point of fact, what the children baked were scones, rather than bread. But the message had been taken firmly on board.
"And what have you made? the Vicar asked one small girl afterwards.
"It's bread!" announced the proud cook.
"And you're giving it away?"
Here the small girl looked less enthusiastic. Her scone did look particularly tasty.
"Yes . . . " she agreed, rather grudgingly.
"I'm giving mine away," chimed up another small girl, eager to appear virtuous.
The Vicar looked at the burnt currants on top of her scone.
"What's happened here?" he enquired.
Determined to turn an accident to her advantage, the second small girl looked even more virtuous.
"Those are the bad things . . . " her tone was earnest, "the sinful things . . . they've all got burned away . . ."
The first small girl, who had been listening to this exchange, looked down at her own scone.
"But I like currants . . ." she said wistfully.
Theologically, I suppose, I should give whole-hearted support to the virtuous small girl. But I'm afraid my sympathies are entirely with the currant-lover!
Why were we given currants if not to enjoy them? Speaking for myself, I'm all for currants.
Next time you come . . . what about scones for tea?
With plenty of currants, of course!
