So, as we all know, I live to cook. Actually, I love to cook. There is something intensely gratifying about not only creating something, but being able to share it with others...and in a way that meets a basic human need. Gotta eat to live, after all.
My (mis)adventures in the world of online dating have led me to think a little bit about cooking as a realm loaded with faith metaphors. Let me explain. I've done eHarmony off and on for a few years now, and I've found one big problem with the logic of their matching system. You see, if you list faith/religion as a big priority for you in your life, you don't get a whole lot of control about setting belief parameters. I can't, for example, check the "progressive Christian" box rather than the "rigidly traditionalist Christian" box. Sometimes, eHarmony does a good job of matching with me with women who believe that following Jesus is an invitation to be crucified daily as we follow the call to do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with our God. Other times, and more often than not, I get matched with people who understand their faith to be best proclaimed by using "God," "Jesus," "Lord," "Christ," and "the Bible" as often as possible in their profiles, just to make sure you know they pass the Christian litmus test of scarily obsessing about churchy stuff as a sign of dedication to God.
Here's where the cooking metaphor comes in. For me, faith is a marinade. I soak in it, I steep in it. It permeates who I am and what I do. I don't have to splash it all around for others to see, because they know its there when they experience who I am, what I do, and how I live, and it enriches my authentic, God-given self. For these girls on eHarmony, and I'm sure plenty of guys, faith is a sauce. You pour as much or as little of it onto the food as you'd like. It feels, sometimes, like a separate dish from the real meat of who you are, and pouring it on thick masks the flavor of the meat. All you can taste is the sauce; no matter how delicious it is, the beauty and integrity of the main dish is obscured. I know, when I make the official WORLD'S BEST PORK ROAST (ask me about it), that the pork is going to be the star, because it's flavored up just right, cooked well, and will taste like a well-cooked, delicious piece of pork. I can, and sometimes do, make a sauce to go with it...but the more of it you ladle on, the less you taste the pork, and I didn't sit down for supper just to eat some gravy with a nondescript, personality-free piece of pig meat. Give me the substance, and I'll tell you if it tastes like it's been flavored by faith, and serve the WWJD-bracelet-and-I-only-read-the-Bible gravy on the side, please.
No comments:
Post a Comment