Friday, January 22, 2016

all I wanted was a hamburger









New Jersey-home of beaches known as “the shore,” and a turnpike where they can monitor you from entering to exiting, seeing just how fast you covered the distance, and offering you a ticket at the end.  But what Jersey has to offer is great food, all types of ethnic food, from Texas Weiners to Italian, Greek, and Pakastani.  But the basic food, the ones we grew up on are still the best, and in Jersey it is White Diamond.  Sold through small pre-fab shiny aluminum buildings madepopular in the 1930’s, they have a few stools for customers, and mostly take out.  A place frequented many times after parties, concerts, and open 24 hours to fill your hunger mood, the munchies, and cure your constipation.  Usually a one or two man operation, you order how many, and you get a real burger, no preformed patty here, the hard core ones still grab a hunk of meat from an open bag in the cooler, drop it on the grill, mash it with a spatula, and cook it quick on both sides.  A bit of onions, then some ketchup and served on a hard roll that is sliced by hand-and no two are ever alike.  All prepared by a man who in between orders sweeps up, has a cigarette, and cooks-all with no gloves or hand washings in between.  And somehow it all works.  A certain flavor not found anywhere else, and popularized on SNL in their “cheeseboiger, cheeseboiger” skit.  Served on a tiny paper plate, fries optional, but not necessary, and a Coke.  No diet here...and on one trip back I almost committed the burger blunder of my life.  An upsetting of the hamburger universe in Jersey.....
The stand in Westfield is lodged between Buicks on the dealer’s lot.  No parking unless you want to get chased by a lot boy, or towed as the signs warn, you park where you can.  This day I found a space with limited dangers and took it.  Going in I knew what I wanted, or thought, but the grease stained menu with many letters missing caught my attention while waiting my turn.  They had a California burger, and now being a true citizen, says so on my tax return, I asked “what is a California burger?”  “It has lettuce and tomato on it,” came the answer, and every head on the six stools turned to look at me.  “They really eat them like that out there?”  I asked.  “Yeah, you want one?” and with every eye glued on me, I answered, “No, how can anyone eat a burger like that?”  And every head turned back to eating, the talking in between bites resumed, and the hamburger universe continued without interruption.  All I wanted was a hamburger, I ate two, and smelled like the place for days, and had never revealed my zip code or area of residence.  I can only imagine the outrage, the jokes, and the prejudice if I had mentioned I live on the West Coast, where we have beaches.  And ate burgers with lettuce and tomato!
California food to me is homogenized.  Where else can you order a burger and be asked “sprouts or without?”  Where it comes as a designer burger, on a white plate, and a sprig of parsley and an orange slice.  Where the fries are served in a cup, and there is more plate than burger on the plate.  Add avocado, sprouts, certain in season veggies, and you end up with a burger that looks like a half a sissy.  And cost as much as a steak dinner, using beef never touched by human hands.  Patties premade at the packing plant....no way was I going to fess up to that in the wilds of Jersey, no way.  Maybe the jokes are right about us being like granola, we are the land of fruits and nuts, and when you take them out, you are left with the flakes.  And if I wanted some sissy burger I would have asked for it, but al I wanted was a hamburger.  Taken with a dose of fries.
The story goes of two Baptists meeting at a convention.  They meet and find they are both from the same state, same county, and there the commonality ends.  One is from a different branch than the other, and the two don’t get along.  One believes full emersion for baptism, one only sprinkles.  One allows women to serve, the other doesn’t.  One has stricter rules than the other, and the list goes on.  They address themselves as “Brother,” but nothing could be farther from the truth.  And I have stumbled into their churches while traveling, or when moving to a new town.  Many times greeted in love, until they find out you believe in healing, you pray out loud, your wife wears pants, and your old pastor isn’t referred to as Reverend.  Suddenly the house of God is separated, and you feel like everyone is looking at you, wishing you to leave.  A place we entered because we thought it was a church where people worshipped God and his son Jesus, only to find a religious quagmire of sin and deceit.  All I wanted was to fellowship, and worship, but they had given up the ship.  Imagine if they knew I was from California?  You mean they really worship like that out there?  Singing songs, hands raised, in blue jeans and shorts?  They carry Bibles, take notes, and actually fellowship with each other?  And they call each other Brother and mean it?
A lesson in why many don’t go to church and why refuse when invited.  Jesus went out among the people, they met in homes, and tabernacles.  They worshipped, sang songs, prayed, and were fed by the spirit.  The first church adhering to the apostles creed, for they had been with Jesus, and no New Testament was available yet.  They lived like Proverbs 12:15, where they listened to the apostles and others teaching the true gospel, and didn’t think their way was the only way.  It was then, and should be now, all about Jesus.  Yet many have become so legalistic that if Jesus did show up he would not be welcomed.  He ideas would be considered radical.  And they were, and are.  Consider one woman met who was caught in adultery.  The religious were about to stone her, but not the man.  I thought adultery took at least two.  But Jesus intervened, writing in the dirt, and the crowd of accusers disbursed.  His words to her simple, “neither do I condemn you, leave and sin no more.”  Her life was changed in that meeting, no record is offered if she did sin again, but knowing humans for 61 years I bet she did, but her heart was changed.  She had learned the price of sin, and its consequences.  But more importantly she learned about forgiveness, and had met Jesus.  That small exchange of words would be repeated in scripture for time eternal.  Go now and leave your life of sin.  Seven words of hope and direction....how simple yet so deep.  Forgiveness.
Do we go and sin no more after being saved?  Or is your church, friends, family, or workplace keeping score?  God has forgotten your sin, you should too.  In one case Jesus told the lame man to stand, take his blanket and get on with life.  Here he tells the woman to leave your sin behind.  For he who the son sets free is free indeed.  Yet we return to religion, getting fed a meal of sprouts and avocados, lettuce and tomato, when all we want is just a hamburger.  All we want is Jesus, without the trimmings.  He will add what we need...we don’t need to or should we order our God from a menu.  We want the real thing...and rest assured, every head will turn when you follow Jesus like that.  But just as sure as he tells us every knee will bow, and every tongue confess he is Lord, we make the choice.  And in religion like at White Diamond, the basic food of life is still the best.  Just give me Jesus, he’ll add everything else on I need.
Only Jesus saves, everything else is just religion.  Keep the main thing the main thing, a supersized love and forgiveness without asking.  All the trimmings without all the religion.  From burgers to fries, to God and religion, you can mess up a good thing with Jesus if you stray.  “You mean he really forgives you and loves you as you are?”  And all I wanted was just a hamburger.  Adultery whether in food, religion, or sex is forgivable.  Go and sin no more.  With love and forgiveness included.  Now can he take your order?
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com