The grey January day turned into a wet rainy day. Even though our condo was just a few hundred feet from the Pacific Ocean, the beach was barely visible. The rain came in waves, a blustery rain, driven by the wind. We were spending a long weekend at a family reunion in Long Beach, Washington. What would we do on such a stormy day?
My brothers-in-law and I decided to visit the Lewis and Clark interpretive center at Cape Disappointment State Park a few miles south of Long Beach. The interpretive center features a series of mural-sized timeline panels that take visitors through the westward journey of the Lewis and Clark Expedition using sketches, paintings, photographs, and the words of the expedition members.
What was portable soup, I wondered. Lewis and Clark didn’t take much in the way of food. The expedition was planning to hunt, fish, forage, and trade along the way. Under Provisions and Means of Subsistence, Lewis lists assorted spices, three bushels of salt, and 193 pounds of portable soup. If I wanted to know what portable soup was, I would have to do some research.
I found that portable soup was the 19th century’s version of space food. It was intended for periods of dire dietary emergency. Portable soup, also known as pocket soup or veal glue, had been around since the 1600s. An early recipe from 1694, calls for a leg of veal, boiled, then the broth reduced and cooled until it forms a slab of jelly about the size of a hand. Wrap this in paper to dry, and it will keep many years.
It seems that no one liked to eat portable soup. When Captain James Cook was heading for Australia in 1772, he took 1,000 pounds of portable soup on board the Endeavour. Some sailors, the records show, were flogged for refusing to eat it. It is reasonable to conclude that the soup was unsatisfying and had a disagreeable taste. The portable soup was intended to be combined with hot water, meat, vegetables, and spices to make a passable meal. Captain Cook and Lewis and Clark had none of these things except water.
During this time, portable soup was well known. In Johann David Wyss's 1812 novel The Swiss Family Robinson, portable soup is mentioned several times. The youngest son, Franz, first mistakes it for glue, and then later suggests it be used as a substitute. William Wilberforce, the British politician who worked tirelessly to stop the slave trade, wrote, “Do not curtail too much, portable soup must be diluted before it can be used.”
There is a trend in modern Christianity that seems to equate the gospel with portable soup. It will keep you alive, but it must be diluted and made palatable before people will accept it. But the gospel isn’t portable soup. It isn’t a concentrate. Some people present the gospel as their personal concentrate. They focus on certain aspects of Christianity and neglect the rest, ending up with a bitter tasting “gospel.” Often people distort the Bible for their own purposes, but if you truly reflect on the life of Jesus, you will realize that Christianity is not about hate at all, but rather about love.
“Try it; you’ll like it.” That’s what David is urging us to do. He is encouraging us to experience what he has already discovered, God’s salvation. Like a momma who encourages her child to try at least one bite of a new food, he asks us to try it out, to do a quick taste-test. Because when we do, He knows that we will see God’s goodness in ways we can’t begin to imagine.
In 1 Peter 2:1-3 (NLV) Peter wrote, “Put out of your life hate and lying. Do not pretend to be someone you are not. Do not always want something someone else has. Do not say bad things about other people. As new babies want milk, you should want to drink the pure milk which is God’s Word so you will grow up and be saved from the punishment of sin. If you have tasted of the Lord, you know how good He is.”