How Is the Church Like a Stack of Pancakes? That seems like a crazy question, but the answer leads us to contemplate how the church is diverse by design, here to use our talents and gifts in service to each other and the world.

Jesus once said, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me” (Matthew 16:24). It’s a bold call. Following Him means more than believing in our heads or feeling in our hearts. It means being shaped, formed, and even changed.

And sometimes, an everyday picture helps us understand what that really means. For me, a stack of pancakes makes a pretty good illustration of what God does in our lives as individuals—and what He does when He brings us together as His church.

From Wheat to Pancake

Think about wheat in the field. It looks complete, swaying in the wind, golden in the sun. You can even chew on the kernels, but they aren’t much. Wheat is nothing like what it could be until someone takes it in hand.

The first step is cutting. The farmer chooses the stalk and brings it in. That’s us. We don’t choose God. He chooses us. Jesus said, “You did not choose me, but I chose you” (John 15:16). Our life with Christ always begins with His call.

Next comes threshing. The husk has to be broken off to reveal the kernel inside. In ancient times, that meant beating the stalks or treading on them. It was rough work. Spiritually, that’s repentance. It’s the undoing of pride, the breaking of our outer shell that insists we know better than God. Painful? Yes. But freeing too.

Then the grain is ground into flour. It loses its old shape, transformed into something new. That’s how God works in us. Sometimes through His Word, sometimes through the Spirit’s quiet conviction, sometimes even through discipline and trials, He reshapes us. The old self is crushed. A new self begins to take shape. Paul wrote, “It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me” (Galatians 2:20).

But flour alone isn’t enough. Other ingredients are needed.

Milk is like the nourishment of God’s Word. Peter urges believers, “Like newborn infants, long for the pure spiritual milk, that by it you may grow up into salvation” (1 Peter 2:2).

Eggs are a picture of resurrection and new life. Just as eggs bind the batter together, Christ’s resurrection binds us to Him. Without the empty tomb, there is no church, no life, no hope.

Sugar reminds us of the sweetness of grace. The kindness of God flavors everything we are.

Salt points to wisdom. Paul wrote, “Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt” (Colossians 4:6). Salt keeps faith alive and fresh, not bland or stale.

And oil—oil has always been a picture of both joy and healing. The psalmist spoke of being anointed with the oil of gladness (Psalm 45:7). James wrote about anointing the sick with oil as a sign of God’s healing presence (James 5:14).

God mixes all of these into us through His Word, His Spirit, His sacraments, and His people.

But even then, batter isn’t ready to serve. It has to face the fire.

The griddle is hot. Trials and hardships come. James wrote, “The testing of your faith produces steadfastness” (James 1:3). God doesn’t use trials to destroy us. He uses them to complete us. He uses the heat to finish the process.

And in the end, what began as wheat in a field becomes something new. A pancake. Not raw, not unfinished, but transformed.

That’s a picture of spiritual formation. The process isn’t without pain. But the result is something beautiful, something nourishing. A life shaped by Christ.

But here’s the thing: pancakes weren’t made to sit all by themselves.

From Pancake to Stack

A pancake on its own is okay, but kind of dry. Syrup on its own is far too sweet. Butter by itself is too rich. But together—pancakes, syrup, butter—they make something joyful. Something nourishing. Something you want to gather around.

That’s the church.

The church isn’t a collection of identical people. It’s a community of differences, designed by God. Paul says, “There are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit… the body does not consist of one member but of many” (1 Corinthians 12:4,14).

And that’s the beauty of it.

Pancakes don’t stop being pancakes. Syrup doesn’t stop being syrup. Butter doesn’t stop being butter. They aren’t blended into sameness. Their differences are exactly what makes the combination rich.

So it is in the church.

Christ gives gifts to His people: teaching, encouragement, mercy, generosity, music, leadership, hospitality, prayer, wisdom, patience, kindness, creativity, perseverance. The list goes on. Each one has its place.

And none of them are meant to dominate. Too much butter ruins the plate. Too much syrup overwhelms the taste. But in balance, guided by the Chef—Christ Himself—all the gifts come together in harmony.

That’s the picture of a spiritually healthy church. Not competition. Not sameness. But a balance of gifts, each serving the others, each needed, each part of the whole.

Jesus said, “Whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it” (Matthew 16:25). Living in service means pouring out my gifts for others, and receiving theirs in return. That’s what makes the church beautiful.

The Feast

So how is the church like a stack of pancakes? Because none of us were made to stand alone. God takes us, shapes us, stirs in His gifts, and then stacks us together in service.

And when we live in balance under Christ, the whole thing becomes a feast of grace.

Every Sunday, at the Lord’s table, we get a taste of that feast. Bread and wine become for us the body and blood of Christ, given and shed for our forgiveness. Here we are fed, healed, and united. And it is only a foretaste of the greater feast to come, when all who hunger and thirst will be satisfied in Him forever.

Until then, may Christ keep forming us, keep stacking us, and keep sending us to serve one another in love.