The Gospel Birthday Cake
What Birthday Parties Teach Us About Friendship in Church
Birthday Magic
Go back in time and relive your earliest birthday party. You weren’t tall enough to reach the phone, much less know what numbers to press to make a call, yet you had tons of friends who somehow made it to your party. Your “friends” were a mix of your mom’s friends’ children, half your class, neighbor kids, and if it was summer, the party also served as a family reunion. It was packed with birthday magic.
Maybe it was just me, but a birthday party transformed a common space into something otherworldly. A table with a few wrapped presents felt like a mountain of loot. And that was no ordinary cake! Your self-respect lived or died by the plastic toy topper. But none of that was possible without the overflow of people—friends singing “happy birthday,” all your buddies running around like maniacs, and of course, the shower of presents that made you believe—yep, I’m known and loved.
I love Jerry Seinfeld’s take on childhood friendship:
“When you’re a kid, you can be friends with anybody. What are the qualifications? If someone’s in front of my house—now—they’re my friend.
Are you grown up? No? Great! Come on in. Let’s jump on the bed!
You like cherry soda?! I like cherry soda! We’re best friends.”
At five, you could barely wipe your own butt, forget to brush your teeth, and weren’t allowed near fire—but you had more friends than you do now. What happened to us? What happened to all our friends?
(Spoiler: sin.)
Fellowship in the Light
1 John 1:6–7 says,
“If we say we have fellowship with him while we walk in darkness, we lie and do not practice the truth. But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin.”
Fellowship isn’t just social time; it’s a distinct, Spirit-filled participation in a body of believers. But darkness creeps in. Too often, we swap walking in the light for sulking in the darkness, alone.
Ward’s Birthday
I remember going to a backyard birthday party for a kid named Ward. Great guy. It felt like 30 kids were there—boys and girls— a real rager. Some poor soul had to leave the party early, and Ward convinced his mom to open their present ahead of schedule. Ward opened the gift—a baseball glove. My mind exploded. Jackpot! You remember that feeling, right? Ward was the luckiest boy alive.
But the cake really sealed Ward’s party into memory. It wasn’t just any cake; it was a Ninja Turtle cake. A custom-cut Michelangelo! Are you kidding me? This wasn’t some grocery-store sheet cake with balloon frosting. Those were for babies. This cake was the kind of thing adult men try to relive during a midlife crisis.
But life is a tragedy, not a comedy. When the cake hit the picnic table, Ward’s little sister stuck her grubby little hands right into Mikey’s face. We all gasped. The cake was ruined. My tear ducts didn’t know how to respond. Ward’s did. He was inconsolable. Two or three mothers shuttled the boy inside, leaving us stunned. Honestly, I don’t remember anything after that. I blocked it out.
Sin is real, y’all. Little sisters will smash your dreams… and lick their fingers while you cry. Too dramatic? Maybe. But sin fractures the party.
Life at Kyle Farms During Rice Season
This Is Your Farm
Acts 2:42 is a theme verse of the early church: “They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to the fellowship…” That word “fellowship” (Greek: koinōnía) doesn’t mean pizza night or casual hangouts. It means participation in the shared life of Christ. It’s not just horizontal—it’s vertical. It’s life with God and life with each other.
Growing up on my family’s farm, my parents often said, “This is your farm.” That phrase echoed the promise of inheritance. I didn’t earn the land, but I belonged to it. When I ride four-wheelers with my girls, I say the same words: “This is your farm.” It’s a picture of fellowship. Not earned. Received. I belong to God’s people, and God’s people belong to me. We are responsible for our fellowship and our friendship.
This Is Your Church
The early church understood that. Their fellowship nights weren’t casual. They were devoted. They believed that in Christ, there are no outsiders. No barriers of age, gender, race, class, or social standing. If you belong to Christ, you belong to His body. If you’ve been forgiven, you’ve been family-ed.
So, as a minister of the gospel, rightly ordained and called by God to serve His church, I’ll say this to you: This is your church. I belong to you, and you belong to me because Christ is above all and in all of us. That’s the gift of God; jackpot!
So stop sticking your hands into the cake! Have some common sense, church. We’re trying to walk in the light here. You keep forgetting we all love cherry soda… I mean, Jesus, which makes us best friends. Let’s treat each other with love and respect. Stop living in fear and let people come into your house and jump on your bed. Don’t you remember how much fun it was to have other people jump on your bed!
If we are a true fellowship church, it’s because we treat one another like family. Do you sense that you belong to a family? The person at fault might be the part of you that’s all grown up. You should relax. Remember, this could be a party—if you can see that this life is one big celebration of God’s birthday glory. Look around and love someone. Be a gift! Stop licking your fingers and say you’re sorry. This is our farm—God’s good gift.
Pray for me, and I’ll pray for you, so we might remember we are one in Christ.
God’s fellowship requires forgiveness, and Christ has already done the work:
“And the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin.”
So confess your sins to Him with me. We’ll do it together, like family.
Confessing Sin
Father, we confess: we’ve behaved more like uninvited guests than family. We’ve ruined fellowship with careless words, cold hearts, and selfish hands. But Jesus, You invite us back to the table, clean us up, and call us Your own—again and again. Forgive us. Remind us we are Your church, and by grace, it’s ours too. Amen.
Thanks for praying! God bless you. We’ll read and pray again next Saturday at 8:30 a.m.
Perfect timing Bo, today we celebrated Vivienne’s 8th birthday!
Wonderful story of truth.