I left my fudge in church

fudgeDear stewards of Centenary United Church,

Last Sunday morning, it’s possible a member of your congregation may have found a small piece of fudge wrapped in a napkin in the back of one of the pews. If that’s the case, then you probably already know about it. I know if I found someone’s discarded dessert in a hymnbook holder, I would be all, “Hey, stewards! Some schmuck left sugar in the sanctuary.” And the stewards would be like, “Say it, don’t spray it,” because stewards are funny – in a good way, of course.

There is the slim chance that more than one piece of fudge was found Sunday morning. These things happen. One person finds a piece of fudge. Then another person finds another piece of fudge. Next thing you know people are talking about the Miracle of the Fudge, and everyone and his step-grandmother is undertaking a pilgrimage – or a “fudge-grimage” – to see the sweetly sacred place. By the way, asking someone “Would you like to see my sweetly sacred place?” can be highly misconstrued.

(Also: My Bible studies are a bit rusty but I don’t recall desserts figuring heavily in the New Testament. I suspect, though, that immediately after the Miracle of the Loaves and Fishes, there were more than a few people hankering for a Miracle of the Pies and Brownies. Just imagine: if that had happened, then today we’d all be singing, “What a Flan We Have in Jesus.”)

So just in case there was a sudden surfeit of abandoned fudge products in church, I would like to identify my specific fudge. It was beige, measuring about 8 cubic centimetres and had bits of butterscotch in it, kind of like Skor Bar but you could tell they weren’t the real deal. More like faux-Skor. It’s possible too they were more than a bit old, like Gettysburg old – faux-Skor from seven years ago.

Come to think of it, I’m not even sure it was fudge. It might technically have been a square. It was definitely sweet, I can assure you that, having already eaten two during supper in the school cafeteria across the street and having picked this third piece off a tray that had been returned to the kitchen along with the other uneaten food. This is not at all the same as picking something out of the garbage, merely en route to the garbage.

I immediately realized I didn’t want said fudge/square right then, having preceded the two previous fudges/squares with a cookie. There is probably an appropriate Bible reference at this point: “Suffer the chubby children to come unto me…” I think it goes.

Instead, I wrapped the sweet in a napkin and stuck it in my blazer pocket and walked across the street to the church with the rest of the students, teachers and parents.

Normally, there’s not a lot of snacking in church, outside of communion. There’s coffee and dessert after a service, of course, because sermons can sure build up an appetite. But mid-preach, nothing. It’s just a thought, but don’t you think opening a concession stand would tempt people back to church? Here’s a suggestion: marshmallows and melted chocolate between two holy wafers – ’Psalmores. You’re welcome.

So I don’t think I ever truly intended to eat my fudge during the carol service. But I didn’t rule it out entirely. I was going to see where the service took me. Sometimes “The Little Drummer Boy” makes my blood sugar plummet, so it’s good to be prepared. But I knew for certain I didn’t want my sweet crumbling in my pocket, so I took it out and slid it into the hymnbook holder for safekeeping/later snacking.

And then I forgot it.

I apologize for abandoning my dessert in your church, but I’m guessing it’s probably not the weirdest thing you’ve found. How does the verse go? “For where two or three have gathered together in my name, someone’s going to leave behind a denture.”

But I like to think that perhaps my forsaken fudge serves as some kind of metaphor. Perhaps we all are the fudge, created out of love and then lost, waiting to be found. And eaten.

Maybe the fudge is a metaphor for careless waste that, at Christmastime more than any other, we may be forgiven for, especially by stewards.

Maybe it’s the promise of the sweet hereafter.

Whatever it is, I’m writing to you to tell you that, about the fudge? You can keep it.

Merry Christmas.

About rossmurray1

I'm Canadian so I pronounce it "Aboot." No, I don't! I don't know any Canadian who says "aboot." Damnable lies! But I do know this Canadian is all about humour (with a U) and satire. Come by. I don't bite, or as we Canadians say, "beet."
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40 Responses to I left my fudge in church

  1. JR says:

    Fudge would make an interesting communion alternative.

  2. franhunne4u says:

    And by now some little child has found it in church and took it home to feed his little siblings with said fudge – na, unlikely – your nappy-wrap made sure they must have mistaken it for garbage, anyway.

  3. I must say, with this blog title, I visualized something entirely different sitting on the pew, but then you know what I’m like.

  4. Paul says:

    “O Come All Ye Fudgeful
    Joyful and triumphant …”

    Funny story Ross. You know the church could make this a regular attraction – deliberately place fresh fudge in all the hymnal holders. It would encourage kids to attend services with out havng to listen to their continual whining ( I know because i used to be one – a whiner that is). This is actualy a much better strategy than threatening. There are two basic strategies to achieve desired human behaviour – push and pull. With push you try to motivate and with pull you place a reward at the end. Virtually all good plans are pull – like giving a 10 million dollar prize to the makers of the first commercially viable space craft or placing fudge in the hymnals. The churches have missed this nuance(fundamentally, as they promise reward when dead, but that’s not where I want to go to get my reward – I’d rather some fudge). 😀

    I believe you may have inadvertently (not to be confused with “advent”) stumbled upon a **HOLY** marketing plan Ross. Much like the serendiptous discovery of penicillin when the bread mold floated into the petri dish, you may find yourself promoted to lofty heights of those few whose discoveries have changed the way we view the world. O_o .

  5. markbialczak says:

    I wonder if the next user of said hymn book just may have come in some not-friendly contact with your forgotten square, Ross, and after the frightful smear campaign, been forced to swear, low and humble being in church and all, “Oh, FUDGE!”

  6. ksbeth says:

    thy fudge’s will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. thank you for your confession. 3 hail mary’s and a couple of splashes of holy water and you’re good to go.

  7. “Little Drummer Boy” – let me count the ways in which this particular song can not only give me high blood pressure, but could turn me into a mass murderer, as in, “she’s strangling the carollers with their own holly!”

    Good piece. 🙂

  8. goldfish says:

    I’m sure whomever found it was glad it wasn’t chocolate fudge since that could lead to further confusion and possibly shenanigans.

  9. As a youth I always wondered why the old men in my church became thinner and thinner over time, maybe it was because they were forgetting to eat that third piece of fudge. You won’t find a young person forgetting or putting it off until later. I’m not suggesting you have slipped into an age where you will soon be looking for your glasses that are on your face, but you might want to schedule a doctor’s visit.

  10. pinklightsabre says:

    Don’t leave it around the dogs. We learned that last Christmas Eve, when my wife spent it in the ER with our fucking dog. Merry Christmas to you too buddy. It’s my first day of unemployment today and I’m spending a fair portion of it – a square-shaped portion – in my robe. Coffee’s ready, gotta go.

  11. If you’re walking the dog around the block and she does her thing and you pick it up in one of those plastic bags and knot it, can you put it in your coat pocket or do you have to carry it? Imagine leaving THAT behind! Then it REALLY WILL be a church pew.

    • rossmurray1 says:


      I’ve found those bags are impermeable to… solids but not so much for smells. Not exactly the perfect crime.

      Here’s something related that drives me nuts. We have a lovely walking trail here in town. All the time, I see little bags of crap flung off to the side or into the woods. People go to the trouble of bagging their dog shit and then leaving it. What is the point? Are they trying to preserve it?

  12. pieterk515 says:

    The Wife take sweets to church. She hides them in our Bible cover for the whole family to enjoy. They put the scripture on a big screen anyway. Sweets taste a lot better during a sermon.

  13. rossmurray1 says:

    Reblogged this on Drinking Tips for Teens and commented:

    Who knew that “fudge” was a keyword? I get more people landing on this post after searching for “fudge.” Maybe it’s because I say “fudge” a lot in this post. It’s made it the second-most popular post of mine in the past year (after that virally Stephen Harper post). It’s a Christmas-themed fudge-related post, so I thought I would pop it up again today. Merry Christmas, you lovely readers, you!

  14. Elyse says:

    “What a Flan We Have in Jesus.” Someone from the next office had to come and check on me after I read that line — I was pretending to cough to cover up my ill-timed laughter. She thought I was dying. I was, but differently!

    Great post. I LOVE repeats. Because I would have missed this one because I did the first time around.

  15. List of X says:

    I think quite a few people would have finished this letter with “kindly mail the receipt for the aforementioned tax-deductible donation to the following address.”

  16. Pingback: Le British Tag | Pom de Pin in Wonderland

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