Pie Ala Mode

I can think of nothing much better than a piece of warm apple pie with a big dollop of vanilla ice cream on top. It is the quintessential American dessert that evokes images of Uncle Sam and Old Glory waving in the breeze. At this very moment, I would love to savor every bite of apple swimming in cinnamon and syrupy sugar, a perfect homemade pie crust, and rivers of melting ice cream flooding the bowl. Oh, how I love pie!

However, there is an exception to my love affair with pie, one that I would gladly do without – and that is, “humble pie”. You know, the pie that is eaten after saying something entirely inappropriate or when you think you look really cute but, in fact, your sweater is on wrong-side out or you have shoes on that don’t match. Maybe it’s when you complain of a bad hair day to someone then find out they are in the middle of chemo treatment. That’s when it’s time to cut a big piece of humble pie and eat it very slowly.

Last week, I attended the last session of a four-week class at my church. It was a big class with about 100 people attending so we were instructed to divide into small groups with about 12 in each group. A young man arrived late and found the only seat available in my small group. In my estimation and judging from his appearance, I thought he looked more like a rapster than a choir boy. He strolled in wearing baggy pants, stud earrings, and chains. He sat across from me and didn’t speak to anyone and I thought he obviously had found his way into the wrong class and possibly the wrong church!

After a few minutes of discussion, our leader asked us to voluntarily pray in our small groups. Immediately, my heart began to beat fast and my face flushed because I didn’t feel comfortable praying in front of strangers. What would I say and if I did pray, would I make a fool of myself? Finally, a middle-aged man began to say a nice prayer. Obviously, he knew all the right words because his prayer was very good. When he said amen, I began to sweat and fidget. Who in our group would be brave and dare to utter a prayer after the middle-aged guy’s nice prayer? Surely Lord, not I!

Okay, you probably know where this is going. Suddenly, the rapster dude opened his mouth and began to pray. I had to look at him again just to make sure it was really the same young man with the baggy pants and chains. His words were bold, profound, passionate, and beautiful. I immediately felt ashamed and regretted making such a lousy judgment call about someone who obviously I knew nothing of. I silently asked God for forgiveness but I could not, as quickly, forget my mistake.

This week, I have thought a lot about that young man and the lesson I learned from him. Until this experience and especially considering my up-bringing, I have generally considered myself to be open-minded and strive very hard to be non-judgmental of others according to race, color, or creed. However, I was faced with the ugly truth about my shortcomings and I gladly reevaluated my heart and mind.


The humble pie I was forced to consume these past few days was actually quite good for me. It was somewhat bitter and I choked on it a little, but overall it was beneficial in helping me to become the person I truly want to be.

The best advice comes from the Old Testament. Samuel had serious misgivings about a teenage shepherd boy named David. In response, the Lord said to Samuel, “Do not look at his appearance . . . For the Lord does not see as man sees, for man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.”