I’m a lifelong Baptist and I’ve always been in church. Both my grandfathers served as pastors at various points in their lives, and my dad still ministers at a Baptist church in upstate South Carolina. Consequently, my understanding of the faith and practice of Christianity didn’t come with much in the way of liturgy. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing or something of which I’m resentful — it’s just a fact.
Perhaps the most unfamiliar thing I’m going to have to get used to now that I’m a Pennsylvanian is the concept of burning trash. I never really thought about trash men and the weekly garbage pick-up system before. It just wasn’t a thing that crossed my mind that often, if at all. But now that I’m living in a location that doesn’t have access to such a benefit, I am obligated to live out whatever latent pyromaniacal tendencies might exist in my subconscious.
The rich young ruler’s inquiry to the Lord Jesus in Mark 10:17–22 (along with Matt. 19:16–22; Luke 10:25–28) remains increasingly prescient for us today. I would say that it’s most likely the hottest burning question on everyone’s tongue, even if it’s not explicitly admitted; that question being, “How do I secure a spot in heaven?”
I like you probably, have an uncontrollable aversion to any food product that is past its expiration date. Even if it’s only by a few hours. I don’t care what food or drink you give me, if it’s anywhere close to being over that “best by” date, to me it’s an offering straight from the devil’s kitchen that’ll surely torment my bowels.