Gourmet Village

Pour three cups of divine love into a large mixing bowl.

With a wire whisk, slowly add the following ingredients, in random order:
eight packages of postmodern confusion, five points of Calvinistic legalism, a generous sprinkling of existential angst, and a quarter pound of various addictions.

Add three peeled phobias, two tablespoons of condensed neurosis, and a shake of schizophrenia.

Stir in all the compassion available, until the mixture is well covered.

Add excessive pizza, impressionistic art form, improvisional rock-and-roll, mangled seventeenth century hymns, and a generous supply of unrelated rhythm instruments in the hands of people without any sense of rhythm.

Amalgamate a dollop of weird, a pound of humor, an assortment of house paint, candle drippings, and movie clips.

Add a pinch of youthful mayhem. Two pinches.

Add additional love. Add twice as much love as you think is necessary to hold the mixture togehter–it will all be necessary.

Stir in a cup of tender mercy and an ounce of finely chopped brutality.

Add a packet of bad history and two of bright hope.

In a separate bowl, combine two parts skepticism with three parts faith, then fold into the mixture with scripture.

Season with passion, temper with inertia.

Deposit the mixture into a community pan.

Baste with contradiction then sprinkle with oxymoron.

Heat unevenly at postmodern temperatures for an arbitrary length of time.

Serves many.

Do not refrigerate.

Scott Coverdale is a member of ‘The Village‘ church, Tucson, Arizona USA