Peanuts, caramel, nougat, and milk chocolate—words I have seen many times above the label of my favorite candy bar. Inside the wrapper, I see the delicious milk chocolate, poured over the top in such a way as to leave behind that distinctive, tantalizing ripple-effect that draws me in for a quick bite. Upon closer examination, I can see the peanuts—no problem there, not allergic. I can also see the caramel—who doesn’t like that? But, for years, the nougat has escaped my attention. What is a nougat? While I am not a confectioner, I did some research and discovered that a nougat is a candy made from sugar or honey, nuts, and egg white. The nougat is harder to find; but, here’s a hint: everything that is not peanut, caramel, or chocolate is nougat. Don’t take my word for it—do the research yourself. I highly recommend it. The nougat is the foundation for everything else—the caramel, the peanuts, and the milk chocolate. While the nougat is hardly noticed, it brings all the flavors of the candy bar together in a powerful way.
Similarly, the positive impact of the church on the world is multiplied when all the flavors are brought together in a harmonious fashion. Our place in the church has been designated by God Himself. “He placed the members, each one of them, in the body, just as He desired” (1 Cor. 12:18). We are not in competition with one another; we are members of the same body—the body of Christ (Rm. 12:4-5). Therefore, we should “pursue the things which make for peace and the building up of one another” (Rm. 14:19). Like a sweet nougat, we should be willing to lose ourselves in bringing others together for the greater good of the body.
While peanuts, caramel, and milk chocolate are wonderful ingredients in and of themselves; their impact is incomplete until all the flavors are blended together on a proper foundation—the foundation of selfless love (1 Cor. 12:31-14:1). There are other lessons I can learn from my favorite candy bar; but, as I look closer at the nutritional information, especially the calories, I’m sure he is “snickering” at me. But, alas, it is too late, for he has already made his characteristic disappearance.