Christian Fatty

The Fatty Christian

Think my title is a little harsh?  Let me explain how I came to this finger pointing post.  Before you get all crazy and think I am pointing my long slender digit at you, rest assured it is clearly pointed at me.  I’m first!  And it’s not slender, it’s chubby.

The Christian Lifestyle (insert flashing lights) is supposed to be our model to the rest of the world.  A light is supposed to shine from inside us so brightly that those who are outside of our realm will press their squinched little noses against the windows of our lives.  We are supposed to tackle situations, conversations and confrontations in a way that is just plain different from our secular counterparts.  We are SUPPOSED to HAVE what they WANT.

I think it is high time for a little tough love.  I could be gentle and say that we as Christians have put on a little around the middle.  I could laugh and tell the story of how my kids say I’m fluffy not fat.  The cold hard truth is, the Church has become alarmingly large.  I’m not talking about the number of bottoms in the pews; I’m talking about the resizing of the pews to accommodate the bottoms.  It’s sad, it’s unhealthy, and I guess we have forgotten, it’s sinful.

Who in their right mind is going to want to sign on to the Christian life when the representatives look like death?  Is this the Lord’s Army?  I think we have become a lot less Samson and the ass’s jawbone, and a little more peel me a grape.  With creaking bones, Type II Diabetes, heart disease, and outfits with more material than a circus tent, I would say there is a deep need for a spiritual boot camp in the American church.  I specify the American church because it seems to be the leader in the lard lamentation department.  How much less time would we be praying for the healing of God’s people, and spend more time praying for His workers on the mission field, if, we just put the fork down?

If you are super ticked at me, great!  I am super ticked at myself.  My pastor tells us that even the most poor Americans are wealthy compared to some 90 percent of the world.  We have access to health information, workout regimens and healthy foods.  So?  What’s the problem?  Is this what we are doing to advance God’s kingdom?  Starbucking and scone-ing our way through life?  How pompous and ridiculous we look with our crumbs all over our shirts.

Pastors of churches need to be calling out their congregations.  If the people get up and walk out at least they got some exercise that day.  We can’t afford to let the church become like the doctor’s office.  We live in a society that won’t let a physician tell the patient they are too fat.  WHAT???  Sad to say, if the patient doesn’t like it, they can go find another doctor who will just load them up on meds.  Alive and miserable.  The church cannot be the same way.  We were not called to be alive and miserable.

I’m not talking about the health and wealth gospel either.  I’m talking about lost people.  People who need to hear the gospel.  This world gets more jaded every day and they don’t want to see me coming with my bible and my muffin tops.  I’m not talking about looking like a super model either.  I want to look like I have been set free.  Free and light to travel this earth and meet beautiful people.  I don’t want the flesh to hold me.  I want to tame it.

The taming of the flesh is not just a neat idea; it’s a necessity for the believer.  We are to put our flesh to death every day.  How can I squeeze into my fat pants every day and feel like I have tamed my flesh?  There is a disconnect, a mental block, a wall made of double fudge brownies.  The time has come to break it down.

Maybe it’s gotta start with me bringing carrot sticks to the church pot luck.  Good grief, we’ve got cobblers, pies, crumbles, cakes, cookies, and crisps served up to believers like it’s okay.  You may cry “EVERYTHING IN MODERATION!!!”  Is there any moderation for poison?  How can I do my very best for God’s kingdom when I have my fingers stuck in the giant moderation pie?  It simply doesn’t work.

I am putting out the call.  It’s time to stop wallowing in our Honey Buns.  Time to wake up and get moving.

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