The Baskin-Robbins Model of American Denominationalism and the New Divide.

A one time friend and colleague had the brilliant idea to compare different American denominations to ice cream. While, as you know, I'm not a huge fan of labels, I'm also not a huge fan of denominations. So the two seemed to track well together.

Dave would start in,

Chocolate: Catholics, of course. Flavorful. Rich in tradition. But at the end of the day people either love chocolate or hate chocolate.

Rocky Road: Baptists: Actually so similar to Catholics in their original construction, but don't tell either one of them that. Oh, and be careful, be careful because there are some places that could cause you to break a tooth.

Vanilla: Methodists. Most intentionally chosen as the least offensive flavor. Although these days Vanilla is being marketed as multi-colored vanilla, which my children used to call super hero ice cream, which I find beautiful in its own light. Still vanilla, but edgy vanilla. Someone needs to get with the Methodists and tell them that if consumed in large ammounts, Superhero Ice Cream might cause bowel movements to turn a glowing nuclear green. But again. That's edgy, too.

Peach. Lutherans. Not too exciting. Perhaps a big seller in the past. but today it just kind of lies there on your tongue and doesn't require much of a response.

Spumoni: The Latter Day Saints. No one really knows what's in there.

And no matter how many denominations he added or subtracted to his list, he'd always finish with

Peppermint. Pentecostals. Everyone usually gets excited for peppermint at some point or another. But few people can make a steady diet of peppermint over the course of their lifetime.

If I could go back, I'd love to spend more time filling out this list? Where would my Orthodox friends fit in? What about our Anglican communion? What about house churches-- are they like craft blends?

As someone who's been connected to various expressions of the Body over the years, I truly enjoyed this look at the differences in the Body. It allowed us to see ourselves for what we were, something messy and melting, and imperfect. Made of the same soup, even though we were so different. and we easily judged who had the truest version of faith. Can you imagine two people standing in line at Baskin-Robbins fighting over who had the truest version of ice cream. Seams silly, doesn't it.

That was, definitely, then. Now, it seems, the model is something else. There seems to be a singular dividing line across denominational lines.. It is not sacramental. It is not political, all though perhaps it does become that. It does, I believe, become this. How do you, or how do I, or how do we, read Matthew 7:1-5. Do we read it as Jesus saying

Hey. Recognize something for a moment. There is a beam in your eye. Go ahead. Try to take care of it. And when you get done doing eye surgery with a chain saw, then, we'll send you to ophthalmology school so you can learn how go to work on your neighbor.

Or is he saying,

That beam in your eye. I took that beam somewhere. I drug it up the hill to the Cross. The Beam in your eye is the sin that I died for. So maybe remember that before you go fussing about the sin in your brother's life, huh?"

The first position is characterized as lacking mercy. This is, for most who hold it, simply untrue; most people who hold this view would simply understands mercy differently. The latter position is characterized as lacking the desire for life change. This also is untrue for most people who hold the position; most people would, however, see life change as the business of God and not the purview of Christ following brothers and sisters. The problem is that when there is a singular line that divides the Body today, in so many ways that the argument has devolved into "are you really eating ice cream" That looks a lot like Gelato. Are you sure that's ice cream? Sorbet? Absolutely not. An ice? No substance of real worth. And while we fight, the Deliciousness of God melts on the street, and the children cry in sadness.

thus spake,

me.