The Brownie Theory- A Taste of Complacency

Today for lunch I endured the cold walk to Beans and Bagels for a hot bowl of soup. To go. Their debit minimum is $5.00, which is good for them, but not for me, when what I typically might order is less than five dollars.

A myriad of treats and fillers teased me at the register. A heart cookie? Chocolate covered espresso beans? Mini cookies in a box?

My eyes fell upon the Brownie, wrapped simply in cellophane and evenly cut in perfect squares.

“Are these good?,” I asked.

“Yeah, they’re REALLY good.” That’s what the young, hippie man behind the counter told me.

I purchased it under his recommendation, and saved it until just the right time. Less than an hour later, the clock read, “The Perfect Time,” and I unwrapped the chocolate treat to indulge.

I took my first bite, excited at the report from the B&B man and with anticipation of a sweet, fudgy feeling between my teeth.

But the taste of disappointment was overwhelming.

I tried another bite or two – hopeful that this brownie would be “it” for me. Hopeful that it would solve my craving and satisfy my expectation. But I fear all it did was make me regret the fact that I didn’t have enough cash on me today to avoid the $5 debit conspiracy.

But here’s the thing about that brownie:

Many people would continue to eat it, even though their gag reflex has kicked in and even though it’s really not what they sought after. They’d eat it because they paid for it. They aren’t caring about their unnecessary caloric intake. They bought it and it’s there, so…they suppose it’s best just to go along with it. Just because it’s there. Just because it’s convenient.

They eat it because that’s all they have; they won’t throw away that which fails them.

The same is true about many people you work with, learn with, or just encounter. They have this brownie, this religion, or whatever belief they grew up with. And even though they don’t like the aftertaste in their mouth, they keep eating anyway.

I do know what the brownie of my faith journey tastes like (yes, that’s an extremely odd sentence that I never thought I’d say). It’s bitter and it’s sweet at the same time. It gives me energy. I always crave it. My brownie isn’t square-cut, but comes in the shape of a cross. It’s not quite wrapped in cellophane, but wrapped in a covering of a transparent God who wants to be known and wants nothing hidden from his children. And he definitely does not keep the truth hidden about his son, Jesus. Oh, and these brownies never run out (God’s gift of eternal life never runs out, so why would these brownies?).

As in all analogies, mine is not perfect. There’s one thing in particular about this one that definitely does not prove to be true. See, if the brownie today were truly a parallel to my spiritual self -

It would have been free, just as my salvation is.

It wouldn’t ever have been something I asked for on the side, just because I was forced to.

It would be my main course, and never would I crave of another God, because the Lord is my shepherd and I shall not be in want – that’s because he gives me everything I need.

Think of God next time you chew on something you want to spit out.

INTRIGUED? Take me up on a challenge: Read Revelation 3 (Revelation is the last book of the Bible) to learn about what God HIMSELF spits out)

Teaser…”So, because you are lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—I am about to spit you out of my mouth.”

karen

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~ by J&K on February 19, 2009.