Beer Belly
Jonah 2:8
"Those who cling to worthless idols forfeit the grace that could be theirs."
Last Sunday, Lina and I spent an entirely enjoyable afternoon with good friends, good food, and good beer at the Iron Hill Brewery on Harrisburg Pike in Lancaster. I really could not imagine a more fun way to hang-out on a Sunday afternoon...my back was also to the wall which is always a good thing when one is a hunted man with bounty on my head. Remember, that the Devil roams the earth seeking whom he may devour.
Beer in excess, like the Devil, devours. For the record, the Devil should not be tampered with at all. He is unsafe in any amount.
Several of the guys at our table belong to Iron Hill's "Mug Club." It is one of those programs with a nifty plastic card that one has to pay for but then you enter a special level of privilege. Primary of which, Iron Hill Supersizes your beer like McDonald's does with fries and drinks but at no additional cost. The cost is paid up for up front at membership.
Lina did the math and computed that it would not be worth it financially for me to join. The only way it could pay is if I became more a regular at Iron Hill Brewery, something actually that I would not mind in one way (more beer for me). Yet, my higher self really agrees that I should not become like Normie from Cheers, on a corner stool, drinking brews, getting fatter, trading witty insults with other customers and staff, and basically spending my non-waking hours camped out.
I still wanted a card or at least the special beer mug they give club members. Nothing doing. So, I will have to get my card bargain and club vibe at Costco which pretty much operates on the same principle. Now, if Costco sold beer (like it does in other states, besides backwards Pennsylvania), maybe the allure of the Iron Hill Brewery Mug Club envy would dissipate. Instead, I long for it...even recognizing the financial downside.
I really do like beer...a lot. I am 3/4 German ancestry and 1/4 Irish, both nationalities are known for their love of the brew. It is a matter of genealogical identity. I join at long line of ancestors at the table to drink some cold ones. Something resonates deep within my soul with the gulp of a good beer.
Yet, there was a time where I thought that if one beer was good, two, three, four, five, six, were even better. I stop for the sake of brevity rather than to give the impression that I actually stopped at six. It would be fair to conclude than that a cold beer was an idol and the fridge was the altar to me. Mo' beer, mo' better.
I would grab and drink as many beers as I could. I really cared less about God. I wanted good times and not God nor his grace. After living that way for a period of time, I felt emptier than a tapped keg. I drank and dissipated myself straight into a depression. Part of the way God delivered me from the demon of depression (and it is a demon) was to give me wisdom to put down things from my hands that were damaging me and pick up things that were good for me.
I had my own version of "Cash for Clunkers." It was "Books for Beer." I truly believe that my love for the reading of good books was a displacement of the bad for the good. That books became an idol is a topic of another blog...yet building my vocab and having knowledge certainly was better than getting drunk and puking. And, many of the books explained more to me about God's grace in all its multi-faceted glory.
Idols, like two six-packs of gods, cause a man to have little ability to grasp God's grace. Idols can be alcohol, food, sex, money, power, etc. Mix and match idols...often more than one brand. As Calvin said, "The human heart is an idol factory." Any object of undue affection, even essentially a good thing like exercise, can become an idol if it is done with wrong motivations.
That is why simple rules don't work like "Don't Drink Alcohol at All." Someone's idol of self-righteousness could be because he/she is a teetotaler. See how tricky it is to uncover idols? Whatever we think the most about, spend our money on, occupy or time with, and derive our identity from, are the first steps in identifying idols.
What is hidden in the Scripture verse at the top of the page, thought and maybe even gurgled by Jonah in the whale, is that there were idols of his that had him thrown off the boat, into the raging sea, which weighed and dragged him down into the depths of the ocean and into the mouth of the whale. Yet, these idols could be seen by many as righteous.
As the week continues, I hope to dredge some of these up to the surface. They are hidden and they are powerful. And, the present day church loves them so, watery and as seaweed wrapped and stinky, as they are.
I am happy to note that at Iron Hill Brewery, that I had just two beers in the three hours we were there. God's grace has given me the power to put aside the idol of beer and to pick up the good gift of beer. And, truth be told, I enjoy it more now than ever. Cheers!
"Those who cling to worthless idols forfeit the grace that could be theirs."
Last Sunday, Lina and I spent an entirely enjoyable afternoon with good friends, good food, and good beer at the Iron Hill Brewery on Harrisburg Pike in Lancaster. I really could not imagine a more fun way to hang-out on a Sunday afternoon...my back was also to the wall which is always a good thing when one is a hunted man with bounty on my head. Remember, that the Devil roams the earth seeking whom he may devour.
Beer in excess, like the Devil, devours. For the record, the Devil should not be tampered with at all. He is unsafe in any amount.
Several of the guys at our table belong to Iron Hill's "Mug Club." It is one of those programs with a nifty plastic card that one has to pay for but then you enter a special level of privilege. Primary of which, Iron Hill Supersizes your beer like McDonald's does with fries and drinks but at no additional cost. The cost is paid up for up front at membership.
Lina did the math and computed that it would not be worth it financially for me to join. The only way it could pay is if I became more a regular at Iron Hill Brewery, something actually that I would not mind in one way (more beer for me). Yet, my higher self really agrees that I should not become like Normie from Cheers, on a corner stool, drinking brews, getting fatter, trading witty insults with other customers and staff, and basically spending my non-waking hours camped out.
I still wanted a card or at least the special beer mug they give club members. Nothing doing. So, I will have to get my card bargain and club vibe at Costco which pretty much operates on the same principle. Now, if Costco sold beer (like it does in other states, besides backwards Pennsylvania), maybe the allure of the Iron Hill Brewery Mug Club envy would dissipate. Instead, I long for it...even recognizing the financial downside.
I really do like beer...a lot. I am 3/4 German ancestry and 1/4 Irish, both nationalities are known for their love of the brew. It is a matter of genealogical identity. I join at long line of ancestors at the table to drink some cold ones. Something resonates deep within my soul with the gulp of a good beer.
Yet, there was a time where I thought that if one beer was good, two, three, four, five, six, were even better. I stop for the sake of brevity rather than to give the impression that I actually stopped at six. It would be fair to conclude than that a cold beer was an idol and the fridge was the altar to me. Mo' beer, mo' better.
I would grab and drink as many beers as I could. I really cared less about God. I wanted good times and not God nor his grace. After living that way for a period of time, I felt emptier than a tapped keg. I drank and dissipated myself straight into a depression. Part of the way God delivered me from the demon of depression (and it is a demon) was to give me wisdom to put down things from my hands that were damaging me and pick up things that were good for me.
I had my own version of "Cash for Clunkers." It was "Books for Beer." I truly believe that my love for the reading of good books was a displacement of the bad for the good. That books became an idol is a topic of another blog...yet building my vocab and having knowledge certainly was better than getting drunk and puking. And, many of the books explained more to me about God's grace in all its multi-faceted glory.
Idols, like two six-packs of gods, cause a man to have little ability to grasp God's grace. Idols can be alcohol, food, sex, money, power, etc. Mix and match idols...often more than one brand. As Calvin said, "The human heart is an idol factory." Any object of undue affection, even essentially a good thing like exercise, can become an idol if it is done with wrong motivations.
That is why simple rules don't work like "Don't Drink Alcohol at All." Someone's idol of self-righteousness could be because he/she is a teetotaler. See how tricky it is to uncover idols? Whatever we think the most about, spend our money on, occupy or time with, and derive our identity from, are the first steps in identifying idols.
What is hidden in the Scripture verse at the top of the page, thought and maybe even gurgled by Jonah in the whale, is that there were idols of his that had him thrown off the boat, into the raging sea, which weighed and dragged him down into the depths of the ocean and into the mouth of the whale. Yet, these idols could be seen by many as righteous.
As the week continues, I hope to dredge some of these up to the surface. They are hidden and they are powerful. And, the present day church loves them so, watery and as seaweed wrapped and stinky, as they are.
I am happy to note that at Iron Hill Brewery, that I had just two beers in the three hours we were there. God's grace has given me the power to put aside the idol of beer and to pick up the good gift of beer. And, truth be told, I enjoy it more now than ever. Cheers!
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