A Slice of Marionberry Pie

People like prioritizing. I’m sure there are academic papers written expounding the psychology behind the human need to group by priority. Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, for example, prioritizes priorities. But, I’m no academic. I could try to play pretend, but it’s silly to wear a big hat without ever having herded any cattle. My wife would never let me get away with it.

Thankfully, academic research isn’t necessary in order to take note of the innate need people have for comparative work. We have our experiential knowledge. We can see for ourselves that nearly everything gets placed on a scale and ranked in order of importance. If you’re one of those modern necromancy junkies who partake in palm-readings known as “personality tests,” you know what I’m talking about. Comparative questions are how we come to know ourselves, right? We’re lost without them. Categories, priorities, comparisons – these are a few of our favorite things.

Now, although I’m not an academic, and am not into palm-readings, I do appreciate comparative priorities. We’re limited beings, and so priorities are crucial to our success in this life under the sun. If I have to choose between my wife and this lame attempt at a blog post – comparative priorities to the rescue. I don’t intend to sacrifice my marriage and the blessing of generational faithfulness for the sake of in-depth research and a fleshed-out vocabulary detailing the intricacies of human thought and action.

The Lord told His disciples, “Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.” (Matt. 10:39, ESV) The Maker calls His people to comparative living. Jesus is ultimate. God is most important. If the choice is God or anything else, the right answer is God. Always. And the priorities are downstream from there. Family. Church. Neighbors. Organize your life accordingly and live it in the right order.

Imagine everything in your life is laid out before you – everybody you love, and everything you care about. All that is important to you is in front you, starting with your Lord and Savior who crafted you, died for you, and loves you, and ending with a slice of marionberry pie, with crisp golden crust, a glazed sugar coating, and sweet, tangy berry filling. With everything before you, you’re given an opportunity to choose just one. If you could have only one of the things that you hold dear, what would it be?

It shouldn’t be a hard decision. You ought to make a snap call and not limp into the pot. God. Always. First and foremost.

“Whom have I in heaven but you? And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you.” – Psalm 73:25, ESV

“Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me.” – Matthew 10:37, ESV

“So therefore, any one of you who does not renounce all that he has cannot be my disciple.” – Luke, 14:33, ESV

When compared to God, everything else falls flat. Thus far, ’tis good. We must have our priorities straight. Because us finite creatures are limited in our capacity, when our priorities compete, we need to value one above the other.

And so, in this way, all of godly living is prescribed to us. Every step is a choice, every minute – a decision, every moment – triage. I can either meditate on heavenly things, or be consumed with earthly pleasures. I can either be entranced with the divine, or be immersed in that which is fleeting. My Bible hour is more important than mowing the grass. Evangelism is higher on the priority scale than building sturdy houses. If I’m busy doing one, then I’m not doing the other. So, I better be doing what’s most important as often as possible. Or use the lesser to gain the greater.

Of course, we understand that we need to sleep, eat, and spend some time with friends and family. We also need to work if we want to sustain our meditating life. But those things are just necessities, we’re told, or perhaps, less important priorities. When compared to our spiritual pursuit to know our Maker, sacrifices must be made. We’re to strive for godliness, right?

Yes. We are. So, let’s take a moment and outline godliness as pertains to our priorities. What would it look like to love with God’s capacity? Does God demonstrate His love in a comparative mode, with competing priorities?

Imagine, if you can, all of God’s creation laid out before Him. Angelic authorities, the gigantic balls of hydrogen gas we call stars, the grass of the field, the critters of the earth, intricate maple tree leaves, you, and everything and everybody else in the entire cosmos. Does God love one creation more than the other?

The concept of more and less is relevant only in finitude. We make value comparisons because our time, strength, and knowledge are limited. At the end of the day, the day ends. But God is not a finite being. His capacity for love is not on a balancing scale. What does God care more about, a man or a slice of pie? Well, neither. And neither does He care about man and pie equally. Balancing value comes from finitude. The question itself is out of place. God does not love His creation comparatively.

What do you care about more, a screwdriver or a hammer? You’d be sane to say that my question is not set up correctly. The value of each tool is dependent on that tool’s purpose. I value both the screwdriver and the hammer according to their distinct purpose. I don’t care to beat a nail in with a screwdriver, nor do I care to try to twist the hammer rapidly in order to drive a screw in. But I do care about lining up each tool with its purpose, and using it correctly. In that case, the value of each illuminates, and brings delight to my soul. As long as I don’t jam my thumb.

God creates with purpose in mind. The chief end of every one of His creations is to glorify Him. And, every creation has a distinct way of fulfilling that purpose. Does one creation bring Him more glory than the other? If God’s infinite paradigm is derived from His infinite glory, then to that end He loves His creation. God cares about minuscule details, and vast histories, and those things don’t compete. God cares about generational legacies and stems of grass that will die before sundown with the same level of love, because both serve to His infinite glory.

“…God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven…” – Matthew 6:30, ESV

God creates on purpose and loves the purpose for which a thing was created. What does God do when He has set before Him a son of Adam and a slice of marionberry pie? He gives the pie to the man and enables him to enjoy it.

So, then, what does godliness look like when applied to my loves? Is it Godly to love comparatively, triaging our priorities? Our capacities will always be finite, but what if they could be expanded in order for us to carry a greater weight of glory in our loves? Yes, I should love God more than I love my wife. And, I should love God by loving my wife. Yes, I should enjoy God more than I enjoy pie. And, I should enjoy God by enjoying pie. To solely love comparatively is a false dichotomy in light of God’s infinite glory. For God is the end of all things.

“For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be glory forever. Amen.” – Romans 11:36, ESV

To paraphrase the late Francis Schaeffer, how should we then eat pie? We should approach pie – both the making of it and the eating of it – with the weight of eternal proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy. The slice of marionberry pie before me – a temporal dessert that will be consumed and turned into excrement in less than a day, never to be seen again – carries with it evidence of God’s steadfast love to humanity. Its temporal nature does not detract from my seeing God’s love, but only adds to it all the more.

The amount of care and intention God places into our temporal pleasure should bring us to our knees. How He directs the hydrogen/helium gas ball we call the sun to shine it’s magical rays on the marionberry seed, nourishes the seed with heavenly precipitation which ascended off the ground against the laws of gravity, grows the seed into a fruit-bearing plant by unexplainable means, and does the same intricate work with grain and sugar. Then, God oversees an entirely different kind of work with the life of the cow producing milk turned into butter. He enacted the chemical reactions that applied heat has on edible ingredients. All this and more, our Lord does for our simple slice of marionberry pie. I’ve barely scratched the surface of the detailed and delicate oversight that our Maker has in order to enable our temporal pleasure, and it’s already a lot. The glory of God is not a zero-sum game. A slice of pie does not detract from His glory, but only adds to it.

What should I do with a slice of marionberry pie? Enjoy it, to the glory of God.