students of jesus

There’s a unique genius required to celebrate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. It is a marvel of the modern world; we should stand in amazement. The bounty of the nation lies before you at a cost of 28 cents. Georgia peanuts. California grapes. Kansas-wheat-turned-flour. To assemble a PB&J from scratch and you would have to drive 5,000 miles.

Pity the fool who cannot see the goodness of God between two slices of bread.

There’s an old joke in religious circles where a guy goes to the grocery store and buys a week’s worth of food. He brings it home and says grace over it all before putting it in the pantry. That way he doesn’t have to waste time thanking God before every meal. He is closer to the kingdom than you might expect. Why not thank God for the food as you wheel the grocery cart to your car? Or, as you unload the bounty of a dozen plastic bags why not praise him for each trip back-and-forth between the car and your kitchen? Our grocery list is a modern hymnal, but we grouse over finding room in the frig. In the words of Louis CK, “Everything’s amazing, nobody’s happy.”

The great philosophers tell us we must examine our life. Very well—why not start with the wonder of humble groceries? If the unexamined life is not worth living, the unthankful life misses the point. G.K. Chesterton reminds us to start simply: “Poets have been mysteriously silent on the subject of cheese.” Because readers of Students of Jesus are an advanced group, we can start with three ingredients at once. Peanut butter. Jelly. Bread.