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Today is Mardi Gras. Fat Tuesday.
The last day before Ash Wednesday and the quiet, reflective, self-denying season of Lent.
Traditionally Mardi Gras became the day to clear one’s pantry shelves of sugars and fats.
And that led to the creation of the King Cake, a spectacular, tri-colored, oval-shaped mountain of dough that’s about as subtle as a Bourbon Street parade, and is traditionally sectioned off with interiors of cream cheese, cinnamon, and fruit fillings.
We can safely estimate that hundreds of thousands of King Cakes will bring smiles to celebrants today.
Some of those partygoers will get a special surprise.
According to tradition, King Cakes are baked with a small plastic or porcelain baby inside like the one perched on the cake in the image above.
Remember what your grandmother used to say if you ended up with the only piece of homemade cherry pie with a pit? “You’re the lucky winner!” Whoever gets the piece of cake with the baby may be designated the King or Queen of the Mardi Gras party.
You might also be assigned the task of buying next year’s King Cake and hosting the party.
How in the world did babies end up on the interior of Fat Tuesday pastries?
King Cakes are actually named for four kings.
There are the traditional three kings or Magi who came to visit Bethlehem.
And then there’s the child King himself, the One they were seeking. It’s no secret that the baby inside every Mardi Gras cake is supposed to be Jesus.
Did you ever notice, in the Christmas story, that Joseph doesn’t get to name his own child? An angel says to him, “You shall name him Jesus [‘God saves’], because he will save his people from their sins.”
It was the absolute right of Jewish fathers to name their own children. It was an expression of paternal authority. But author and pastor Timothy Keller points out that the angel took that prerogative away. “By refusing to let him name Jesus, the angel is saying, ‘If Jesus is in your life, you are not his manager. This child who is about to be born is your manager.’”
That quite simply goes against the grain of everything we think, hear, and feel in our culture.
We are told that our job is to create the masterpiece of our own lives. To our own selves we must be true. We must pursue our deepest dreams and satisfy our deepest hungers and thirsts, no matter where they take us.
Thus Keller observes, “The Christian calling is shocking. Modern people need bravery to give up their right of self-determination.” We may protest that we don’t want to follow God unless he allows us to “be ourselves.” But the strange, difficult, and wonderful truth is that we will never know who we really are unless we surrender to the One who made us and knows us best.
Or as Keller puts it: “We need him to name us.”
If you bite into a piece of King Cake today and find the baby, congratulations! You’re King of the Party.
Just make sure it doesn’t go to your head.
The Baby, after all, happens to be king of everything.