I think the first time I saw a bread-maker up close was after I was married (just about a year ago). I know the first time I loaded and ran a dishwasher was my first year of University (five years ago). No, I'm not a Luddite; no, I was not raised Amish. We simply did not have such things in my house growing up (yup, no microwave either). So, if you grew up with these space-age marvels, you might think it strange that they can inspire such contemplation on life as follows. But they do.
When I was a young lad and the world was a place filled with marvel and magic, I used to greatly enjoy the various talents that my (stay-at-home) mother would put to use in her care of me and my siblings. Oh, the smell of freshly baked bread would fill the house. I remember urging my mother with all the influence I thought I might be able to wield over her to forget about having it cool and slice me off a huge chunk of bread to butter and eat. It's funny that I never thought about how those few ingredients, which were never of much interest to me, could possibly turn into this warm taste of heaven we called bread. It just did. She would put the ingredients together, knead it, let it rise for an hour, knead it some more, let it rise some more, set it in the oven and... pull out that marvelous bread.
When I became older and began to conceive of the idea that maybe I too could make this bread, I found that I had no need to be taught how, for I already knew. All I needed was the hankering for fresh bread and a few spare hours. Much later I made a discovery that shattered my world, tore apart the very fabric of how I understood life... automatic bread-makers!?! So let me see if I have this correct: I take the ingredients, dump them in this magic box, walk away, and when I return there will be bread? You've got to be kidding me.
I've never used a bread-maker. My wife has one and she uses it from time to time to make bread that we both enjoy. The option is always there for me; but I always make it the same way my mother did: by hand.
Every time I see that bread machine sitting there in our kitchen, I'm struck by the purpose for which it was invented: convenience. Somebody was thinking about how much is involved in making bread: the effort, the knowledge and ability required, and the time needed. Yes, these machines are about convenience. For me these machines are the epitome of our society's desire for convenience (I'm sure others could come up with better examples, but this is the one that strikes me).
I bet you George Jetson had a bread-maker at his home up in the clouds. Except with his there was no need for ingredients, just a little pill and... poof, you have fresh 'baked' bread. I've often wondered if 'The Jetsons' was meant as a dystopian cartoon, a frightening nightmare intended to shock our culture into realizing the road we travel. Okay, that's a little harsh I admit. But seriously, I may want to meet George Jetson, and maybe even his boy Elroy, but I sure would not want to live in their world. He barely works at all and when he does it involves pushing a button. If it were not for all the crazy capers that happened every episode, that man would be so incredibly bored with his vapid life. Is leisure and convenience our goal in life? Is this what the good life looks like? Maybe the world of The Jetsons is not realistic, but there are countless people in our world striving for just such an existence.
More than just bread-making or dish-washing, or any other hyphenated verb I can suggest, there are countless tasks, jobs, and chores out there that people are constantly trying to avoid. If we could have robots to do these normal everyday tasks, most of us probably would. Aren't such menial tasks best avoided so as to provide more time for meaningful activities?
I think the problem with this perspective stems from our understanding of these 'normal everyday tasks'. Let me be clear: there is no such thing as a 'normal everyday task' (at least not from the Christian perspective - more on that another time). Most of what we do in a day likely falls into the task/job/chore category. If work is drudgery, then life is drudgery. And let me tell you my friends... life is not meant to be drudgery.
If you asked most people point-blank whether they thought the purpose in life is to seek out and find convenience/ease, I would imagine (and certainly hope) that most would respond in the negative. If this is so, then why do most of us live our lives as if it were the purpose? Why do I often live in such a way?
This is what I ponder when I see that bread-making machine...