Stretching a metaphor until it breaks

I baked two loaves of bread last weekend. They turned out great, thanks to Laurel's Kitchen Bread Book. But that's not the point of this post.

A few minutes after I began kneading the bread, I realized it was very hard to work with. Then I looked up and saw the bowl of yeast on my counter... not in the dough I was kneading, where it should have been! Many years ago I forgot the yeast in a bread maker; the bread came out like a brick, and that's what I was on my way to making.

So, I poured the yeast over my brick-in-the-making, and began to work it in. The gluten was pretty solid by then and didn't want to break up. I had to really squish and pull and press and mash. It kind of brought me back to my childhood days of playing in the sand and the mud. Finally everything was mixed into a very nice dough and the bread turned out just great.

That's the literal story. Now let's take an allegorical look... my allegory is a little goofy but it works in a weird kind of way.

The original brick I was kneading is like a dead human soul - lost in sin, immured in the world, unable to look up to Heaven or contemplate God's love and mercy, loving nothing, itself least of all. Such is the fate of the soul turned in upon itself, lacking faith, hope, and charity.

The yeast is like God's word, living and active in Scripture and the church. The yeast is capable of turning a brick (or to use more Scriptural language, a stony heart) into a pliant, life-giving, joyful substance.

But it takes some work. When I first poured the yeast on the brick, all I had was yeast and a brick; I had to do some work to break down the brick and work the yeast into it. That is the action of the Holy Spirit, transforming the stony heart into a living heart. The Spirit transforms us, operating on us even without our knowledge.

And the whole operation is pretty hard on the brick. Once a soul realizes it's in the midst of a dark wood (as Dante found himself at the start of The Inferno), there's a lot of hard work and pain ahead. Turning towards God means turning away from yourself; it's the hardest thing I've ever done. That first turning towards God suffices for your salvation; but God calls us to be holy, and so long as we remain in this vale of tears, we are called upon to let the Holy Spirit continue working on us.

Then you realize the truth about the horror you are leaving behind, and the truth about the glory you are approaching. And then you know it's worthwhile; you are on your way to becoming an aromatic offering to our Savior.