Of jam and sermonating

I think I've been a minister's wife too long, either that or I'm ready for the Women's Conference speaking circuit.  I made peach jam the other day and all I can think is how nice of a sermon illustration it is!  I've never made jam before, but I couldn't resist the beautiful peaches on sale at the grocery store, so I brought them home, dreaming of crisps and cobblers and jam.  I had no pectin, but happily found a recipe online calling for simply sugar and lemon juice and peaches, even better I could use the whole peach: no waste or peeling!  My frugal, simple heart was in heaven.  I cut up the fruit, pureed it, added the sugar and lemon, and began stirring over a very hot burner.  It was a hot, sticky mess, something like a churning cauldron of lava, but after covering my kitchen in sticky ooze and burning myself a few times, I figured it would be well worth it.  I tried my hard won, beautiful jam…all I could taste was the lemon!  My beautiful perfect peaches had absolutely no flavor and what could I do with two quarts of lemon jam?

I bemoaned my sad fate at church the next day to a friend, and instead of condoling with me, she rather decided to be my fairy godmother, saying she had a bunch of peaches going soft and would happily donate them to me if I'd like, and they were wonderful sweet, juicy things.  I figured they might add a little flavor to my pathetic attempt at jam making, so I accepted.  They were the sorriest bunch of fruit I have ever seen: soft, brown, a few moldy.  But I took out my knife and hacked out the good flesh, discarding the rest, and they were excellent fruit, just past their prime.  I used the same recipe, except there was no churning lava this time, just a vigorous and smooth boil, no burns, no mess, and the loveliest jam!  I thought for a moment to mix the two, but then I would have a gallon of mediocre jam, instead I opted to toss the former on the compost heap and save the latter, in all its pristine tastiness.

Obviously this tale is ripe for exploitation: the salt losing its savor, new wine in new wine skins…feel free to write your own sermon(s) but I shall limit myself to a metaphor of what is truly valuable and good, despite outward appearances.  Those store bought peaches were so lovely, but at heart they had no flavor and thus no value, sadly akin to many of the shiny souls we adore or wish to emulate.  Those ugly, mushy, brown peaches are a perfect analogy for fallen man: past his prime, sad to look upon and think about, but not without worth, if it can be dug out and perfected through sorrow, trial, and perseverance, much as it took the knife and heat to make proper jam, but no matter how sad that fruit, it was not without hope, as are we, but will we submit to the process and allow ourselves to be redeemed or will we rot into mushy uselessness?