February 18, 2013

Pretzelmania

Often, it seems, we want every event that we offer to have some deep, soul-wrenching message, something that will cosmically connect.

We try to stretch allegory and metaphor like Silly Putty, so that our event has meaning. But sometimes it’s OK just to have fun.

The bishop visited our congregation yesterday. Being the first Sunday in Lent meant that some of the usual brouhaha surrounding a bishop visitation would have to be set aside.

Fortunately, the congregation already had plans. For many years, a family has hosted an event called Pretzelmania. The family preps bags of flour and pockets of yeast. They create a concoction using a few drops of lye and warm water that somehow magically transforms the dough into scrumptious snacks. Folks in the pews are invited to bring a cooking sheet, wooden spoon, and bowl.
After church, everyone gathers in the fellowship hall and makes pretzels. 

That’s it. There’s no deep meaning. No accompanying Bible study or prayers. There’s no hymn sing or time for self-reflection. 

It’s just fun. 

Families and couples and individuals huddle around the tables and knead the dough. They shape it into hearts, ribbons and letters. There are fancy breads and twists, dough balls and rods. While we wait for the pretzels to rise, we talk and laugh, shake off the flour, and fill our plates with assorted mustards and cheese dip. 

I suppose we could take this time to talk about how a pretzel is like the trinity or how God can move in our lives, helping simple ingredients rise and take new shape. We could talk about the bread of life or what happens when salt loses its saltiness. 

Or we could just let Pretzelmania be pretzelmania: a time for laughter and sharing, a time for fellowship and fun. 

And here’s the twist: that can be pretty transformative too.