Banana-Flavored Faith

That's right, after a few months of absence, I'm about to strike back like the Empire! A few people have mentioned that they liked these, and my brain is flowing at normal speed again, so here we go again. I was going to save this until after next week because it was going to be my devo, but Greg's tonight was both fantastic and a lot like this, so I decided instead to make this a blog and the devo will be changed.

I'll go ahead and say it; I love my life. I have a great life's story that I really feel would make a good movie or book. Several other people think so too, so that makes it fact. My life is really the final act in a series of stories about some fantastic people and how they overcame their own challenges; I basically like to think of myself as the climax of several stories. (Literature nerd, I know.) The person I want to focus on is kind of the one who started all of this, my grandmother, or as we called her, Nanny.

I've talked about my grandmother a few times at school, but to bring everyone up to speed, she was hands down the coolest old lady alive. She was going to be a nun until she met my granddad, but by the time I came along she was essentially the definition of a "tough old bird." Granddad left her for a younger lady, but left her a nice chunk of money to live on in return. Nanny didn't bake me cookies but once (best cookies ever, the standard by which I still judge all subsequent cookies.) and she never knitted me anything. She did however teach me to keep score on a Cubs game, and explained to me that even when you're watching at home you have to get up and sing along when Harry Carray leads Take Me Out to the Ball Game. One of my favorite things about her house was the fruit; Nanny had great fruit, and my favorite was always bananas.

Whenever I eat a banana, I get swept away in nostalgia, remembering Nanny cussing at the announcers when they insulted Sammy Sosa, or how she used to take care of that nasty black cat I was so scared of. I can even remember the smell of her house, a good catholic house; cheap wine and cigarettes. But you know what? Banana-flavored candy isn't the same. This may seem like a no brainer for you, but for me it's shocking. Banana flavored taffy, runts, whatever, none of it invokes the same memories. It's fake, false, a substitute, and it fails to remind me of that tough old lady who taught me so much.

I guess I feel like our faith is like that. I don't mean for this to be one of the many rip on America posts out there, but the fact is that Christianity in this country is so screwed up. Sure, it's kind of like what Jesus wanted, but how is it any different from the other things out there? What I mean is, maybe the reason people aren't flocking to churches is because we're offering the same thing they can get at any other social club, like boy scouts, or scrapbooking circles, or book clubs. Are we really any different, or are we one more imitation that offers something similar to the real thing?

Faith is more than just a set of political beliefs, and it's a lot more than just sitting around with people who think like you do. True faith is to love people unconditionally, to sacrifice ANYTHING for other people, the same way Jesus did. I tried to find a verse that summed this up, and then I realized, it's all over the whole freaking Bible! The thing is full of it! If we were really offering that authentic flavor of faith, I think people would be way more interested in us.

So the point? No, it's not to go rage against the machine and burn the mother down. Leave your churches standing, they're full of good people who love God. The point here? Let your faith be real. Study the bible for yourself and see what God really wants. Find someone to love. Find an unlovable person, someone not deserving or not receiving unconditional love, and give it to them. That my friends is real faith. None of this bullcrap, "Keep the gays from marrying!" faith-flavored junk.

(jake)