A. J. Jacobs is an American journalist and guinea pig who write books based on plunge experiences. Once he joined Mensa and read all thirty-two volumes of the Encyclopedia Britannica to see what it would be like to be “The Know-It-All: One Man’s Humble Quest to Become the Smartest Person in the World (2004). In another plunge experience he decided only to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth about everything in life. That project had the title I Think You’re Fat (2007), which kind of says it all about how that project went. In another plunge experience, he decided to outsource everything in his life to India, including reading bed-time stories to his kids and arguing with his wife. That project bore the title My Outsourced Life (2005). To understand dating, he became a single woman (The Guinea Pig Diaries [2009]). He may be the funniest non-fiction author writing today.
But AJ Jacobs is now most famous for his The Year of Living Biblically: One Man’s Humble Quest to Follow the Bible as Literally as Possible (2007), which “chronicles his experiment to live for one year according to all the moral codes expressed in the Bible, including stoning adulterers, blowing a shofar at the beginning of every month, and refraining from trimming the corners of his facial hair (which, he followed by not trimming his facial hair at all).” You will soon be seeing this at the movies, as Paramount has picked up the screenplay rights.
One of the witticisms of Jacobs in this book has never left me after I read it. He mentioned that part of his challenge in living as a Jew, not just following the 10 Commandments but keeping all 613 Commandments (248 Positive Commandments, 365 Negative Commandments) is that his relationship to the Jewish faith was “about the same as that of Olive Garden to an Italian restaurant.”
When I read that it stopped me flat: how many people are Christian in about the same way that Olive Garden is an Italian restaurant? How many churches are Christian in about the same way that Olive Garden is an Italian restaurant, or Taco Bell is a Mexican restaurant, or Colonel Sanders is a southern cooking restaurant?
Now wait: full disclosure. There are times when nothing suits like a Taco Bell, KFC, or OG.
When you are driving down the road, late at night, alone, isolated — where do you stop for a cup of coffee or a late night snack? Do you risk stopping at a no-name, scruffy-looking establishment? Or do you wait until you can find a McDonalds, Burger King, Denny’s, Dunkin Donuts or Tim Horton’s? Do you look for franchise familiarity, a place with a known face?
I don’t know about you, but my car gravitates to the familiar, the predictable, especially after midnight on the interstate.
Let’s tell the truth: we love franchises. America is a big country, with lots of roadways. So if we are far from home we look for a familiar name. We hone in on it. It’s “home” — at least for a quick comfort stop.
This is both a good and a bad thing. For those of us who love a Big Mac, the new Kentucky Grilled Chicken, or will take anything off the Taco Bell late night menu, it is a good thing. For others, who get blue-highway print-outs of all the local “Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives” along their route, who only stop at places where the paint is peeling and the cars out front have bumper stickers for the local high school teams, the concept of a “franchise” meal is obscene.
Which are you? Any ideas of “Where would Jesus eat?”
In Tom Perrotta’s novel Little Children (New York: St Martin’s Griffin, 2004), Kathy, a documentary film-maker, gets an idea for a new project from the dinnertime small talk of an advertising executive. He is desperately trying to talk a bunch of white, southern businessmen into NOT naming a new Chinese food franchise “Charlie Chopsticks.” Kathy thinks:
The creation of a nationwide chain of Chinese restaurants by a bunch of clueless white guys seemed like just the sort of vehicle she was looking for, a way to shine an amusing light on what was actually a troubling phenomenon: the voracious march of American business, its insatiable need to devour everything in its path — other people’s history, their cuisine, their ethnic identities and cultural traditions — and then spit it back out as bland commodities for sale to middle America. (p.167)
In our lectionary reading this morning, John and the other disciples first bickered over who was the greatest among themselves. Then they tried to shut down the healing work of one who stood outside their closed ranks. They were being outside-in disciples. They wanted to look good on the outside, play the part of one of Jesus’ chosen Twelve, look and act like they were true followers. But they were not really authentic. The disciples wanted to be franchise followers — playing a role for their own benefit and missing the genuine beating heart of discipleship. Genuine discipleship is an Inside-Out transformation that calls us to live kingdom lives everyday. That is authentic discipleship, a follower of Christ.
So what is the difference between a franchise faith and an authentic faith? What is the difference between being a franchise Christian and an authentic Christian? What is the difference between franchise followship and authentic followship? Here are five things for us to think about this week:
1) Franchise followship is built on convenience. Authentic followship is built on conviction. The franchise model of faith fits a culture of convenience. It is built on easy-in, easy-out, fast-food, free-parking convenience. Everything is predictable; there are no surprises. You’re headed back home in less than an hour and fifteen minutes.
Authentic followship means you never know what to expect next. Jesus will take you in directions you do not wish to go, and will put on your plate food that you never knew existed.
2) Franchise followship is built from the outside-in. Authentic followship is built from the inside-out. In other words, Fazoli’s and Olive Garden do not have an Italian heart.
Real deal Italian restaurants are Italian from the inside-out. The decor, the menu, the nuance of region, these all are born from the identity passed from one generation to another by timeless immersion in the state of being Italian. The nuance of a Sicilian heart versus the heart of a Roman is perceptible, and even some of us non-Italians can tell the difference. But Olive Garden is designed from the outside in. It is made to look, and taste, and feel like "Italian"... but no true Italian would be fooled. OG is Italian in one sense only... it is what North Americans expect of the name Italian, and it is designed to prop up the illusion already in the minds of the customer.
Following Jesus is more than “feel” and illusions and appearances. This is an appearance culture almost as much as it is a convenience culture. We like to “appear” the part. But authentic followship is more than “appearing” to follow Christ. It is the transformation of the heart, mind and soul that the gospel promises.
The promise of the gospel is not imitation, but implantation. The promise of the gospel is not that you can imitate Christ. The promise of the gospel is that the spirit of Christ can be so implanted in your life that you begin to share a life together.
Again, it’s not that franchise food is bad food. But franchise food is not authentic ethnic fare. Olive Garden is Italian in the same way Taco Bell is Mexican — because we are told that is what they are. It is an outside-in definition. Their food is good. Familiar. Comfortable. Affordable. Unremarkable. But not really Italian. Not really Mexican. Not authentic. Franchise faith does not have a Jesus heart.
Authentic Italian restaurants are Italian from the soul out.
Authentic Christians are Christian from the soul out.
3) Franchise faith is a funnel. Authentic faith is a fountain. St. Bernard of Clairvaux once said: "If thou hast wisdom, thou shalt prove a fountain-spring and not a channel." In other words, be a fountain, not a funnel. Fountains open up and encourage multiple directions. Funnels constrict and narrow and channel and control.
In our text this morning, Jesus stunned John by dismissing his “our way or the highway” attitude. Instead Jesus proclaimed the plurality of “Whoever is not against us is for us” (v.40) at the same time he proclaimed the particularity of “Whoever is not for me is against me.” Discipleship can have many faces. But it is authentic and real as long as “the name of Christ” stands at its heart.
Instead of seeking self-importance Jesus challenged his disciples to a life of selflessness.
Instead of defining discipleship by the ability to do miraculous acts of healing, Jesus pointed to gestures as simple as giving a cup of cold water.
Instead of closing ranks, Jesus opened the door to others, to all who would work in Christ’s name.
Instead of being a funnel, Jesus told his disciples to be a fountain.
One more thing about fountains: one word originality. Fountains have an original source; funnels are derivative and unoriginal and merely redirect from one location to another. Followship can look different on the outside as long as at its heart there is a genuine love of Christ, our original source. Going to the Scripture is what makes our hearts a wellspring of life, as Christ creates in us a spring.
That is the particularity in the midst of plurality. That is why the truth that “Whoever is not against us is for us” is also “Whoever is not with me is against me” (Matthew 12:30; Luke 11:23). The “us” of followship can take many forms. But the “me” of Jesus is unchanging central heart of faith. There are many ways to Christ, but Christ is the way to the Father.
4) You “buy” a franchise, and then live out the formula. Authentic faith is organic, not purchased, and grown from the ground up.
Owners of franchise eateries did not create their restaurant. They simply bought into the company. That is the ultimate reason why there can be no “franchise Christians.” The faith at the heart of a Jesus follower cannot be “bought into.” It must be lived out of. Besides, the payment has already been made, and not by us.
5) One final reflection on the difference between a franchise faith and an authentic faith. Joe Myers is an author (Search to Belong) as well as a business entrepreneur. He says that the biggest difference between Olive Garden and a real Italian restaurant is a non-difference.
It's amazing to me how expensive this kind of system is to maintain. Olive Garden is not any less expensive than an authentic, boutique great Italian restaurant. It takes Olive Garden the same amount of effort and resources to supply the kind of Italian food they do as it does to supply and maintain a great Italian restaurant.
It also takes the same amount of effort and resources to maintain a “lukewarm” life as an abundant life. So, why do we play with the illusion that somehow the fake is within our budget and not the real deal? Myers’ question is: “Why do I believe the myth that I only have the ‘budget’ for the former?”
Will you be done with “budgeted” this morning. Will you live out of the real abundance and real conviction of the real Jesus? Will you live out of an authentic faith, not a franchise faith? Will you hear Jesus calling you to be an authentic follower of Jesus?