A Delicious Way to Live

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Christ is risen! And you answer: [He is risen indeed!] Christ is risen! [He is risen indeed!] Christ is risen! [He is risen indeed!] And that fact is what makes Christianity a “delicious way to live.” Christianity is delicious.

Some people find God in nature—they look at the mountains, the trees, the fields of grain, or the huge expanse of space, and they recognize the power and hugeness of God. Then, they might look at Jesus Christ: all this hugeness of God, stooping down low to lift you and me up to him. Nature speaks of an incredible, and powerful, …and loving God.

Others feel closest to God through community—family and friends, the gathering and conversation, the laughter, hugs, tears and love. Because God is there through all of them, our hearts could nearly burst with love and joy. Even when we look at each other, as imperfect as we are, we can find Christ.

I completely agree—I often experience the hand of God and his presence in all of these. But I also find him where these two ideas come together: nature and community come together around food. Food is one of the expressions of God’s love—his prodigal, his extravagant, creativity.

Now, I’m not talking about the worship of food. People who experience God in nature aren’t a bunch of druids. In the same way, those who experience the true God in food aren’t a bunch of gluttons. Far from it: I’m talking about savoring.

So, before you bite off the ears of your chocolate Easter bunnies (I’m probably too late in saying that for some of you), and before you fork in a mouthful of your Easter ham, I want you to pause for just a moment this Easter to seriously think about… your tongue.

What an amazing thing God created there inside your face: your tongue: strong, flexible, dexterous…and even dangerous. People’s tongues have said things to start wars. More powerful than that, they’ve even ended wars, too.

Tongues can say words of forgiveness. When they do, they stop the power of evil, they stop the devil in his tracks with words like, “I am truly sorry.” “It’s okay.” “How can I help you?” or, “He is risen indeed!”

That’s only the start of the complexity of your tongue. Think of your taste buds. Take that bite of chocolate. What makes it so savory… to many people? “It’s sweet,” you might say—but it’s more than just sweet. Behind the sugar sweet as it rolls from the center to the sides of your tongue is the chocolate bitterness that widens its taste. Hidden deeper within—not even noticeable but necessary for the flavor—there is even a metallic saltiness, and still other flavors…all playing together.

Or, you can be walking through the supermarket produce section, and some subtle voice is crying out, “Hey we’re a bit low on iron down here!” Suddenly, the broccoli looks so good! And the body says, “Hey, I remember that stuff! It’s loaded with iron!” So you take it home.

And, then, you lightly steam it, so it still has a slight crispness, you add a dab of butter, and lightly salt it…oh yes: broccoli! It rolls across your tongue, the ever-so-slight bitterness in the little green flowerets, that metallic tang from both the salt and iron, even the gentle sweetness of the butter and green flesh of the stems. Delicious.

It’s delicious like life, and like Christianity. Let me assure you—I have a point in all this. (It’s been my nightmare this weekend that people will walk home saying to each other, “It’s Easter, the holiest day of the year, and all that pastor guy talked about was food and tongues!”) I want to go a lot further than just to wet your appetite for dinner this afternoon. This message is an appetizer for the feast of Jesus Christ’s Resurrection: I want you to walk away this morning with a foretaste of God’s Heavenly Banquet rolling across your tongue.

I saw my sermon title early on Thursday morning on a Darigold® truck. I had just been asking God, and wondering, what do I basically want to say about Easter, what does Christ’s resurrection mean for us, and what does it mean to me? I was at the stoplight on 4^th St. North, heading east, and the Darigold® truck was on Auburn Way heading north. On the side of this truck was a huge picture of two kids making a big sloppy ice cream sundae. Stuff was falling over the sides, chocolate syrup was puddling in both the ice cream dish, and also over and onto the table. Below that picture, a slogan was scrawled in huge letters: “A delicious way to live!”

In that moment, I realized that was it: that expression of celebration and savoring. It was an exaggeration, and a misplaced moralism on the Darigold® truck, but it is an absolute truth about Christianity and faith. It is an absolute truth about living in the presence of God, and knowing that Christ’s death and resurrection has won the most important things for you in your life.

Talk about an incredible, unending banquet that God has given us! He gave us a forgiveness that wipes out sin, even the blackest sin of the death and the murder of his own Son. More incredible, he used that sin and death to draw us all to him, and he grants us eternal life! The Christian life is eternal!

And because it is eternal, while we live it, we can afford to savor it. It is delicious. More than the best wine, the Christian life has an incredibly expansive bouquet and many complex flavors.

This goes way beyond chocolate or broccoli. As life rolls across the tongue of Christians, every taste is powerful enough to draw tears. We experience the sweet taste of new life as our children are born. We savor the new joys and citrusy tang of new friendships, new love and romance. We know about the gentle and rich cream of old friendships and growing old together, loving each other still more deeply, and maturely. We experience the bitterness of life. The losses, roll off the sides of our Christian tongues, sometimes with salty tears, or other times as deep bile-raising sobs. Then, these hard times subside into gentle flavors of experience, and wisdom. We might call it: an acquired taste.

And there is a kind of peace in our Christian appetite. There is no need to indulge ourselves in only sweet moments, or to mire ourselves in deep pits of bitter anger, jealousy or arrogance. We can move on in the feast, to other moments, other tastes, and other people. We can love and savor, and to let go when we need to.

We can savor the banquet of God because of Easter, because of Jesus Christ, because of forgiveness, and because of eternal life. We know that we have everything of eternal value. We do not need to indulge; we can savor all the tastes of life. We can have and pass on the loaves of forgiveness.

So, we will smile when we are happy. We will laugh when it’s funny. We’ll cry when it’s sad, and shout when it makes us angry. And we will let these moments and seasons roll off our tongue as they come and go, because you and I can taste eternity. We have tasted the love of God.

And then from our lips, when we speak words of forgiveness, and from our hands, when we show acts of generosity, others can taste his love, too. You and I were made, and we were forgiven, and we were saved to do this: to taste, to savor life, to come together to worship God, and then to go out from here to serve this feast to others.

So, this Easter morning, I welcome you to the table of Christ’s death and resurrection. Welcome into Christianity. This is a delicious way to live!

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