A friend of mine was recently accused of “double-dipping”–a faux pas that has been known to incite blind rage and leave a bad taste in your friend’s mouth. When I think about double-dipping I cannot help but think of the scene from Seinfeld when George Costanza committed the ultimate party foul, transgressing against all of the breathing guests at a wake.
Those of your who need a refresher please see World of Seinfeld.
My friend was not accused of soiling the French onion dip. She was not responsible for tainting the community salsa bowl with her saliva. My friend was accused of double-dipping because she was setting about doing kingdom work in 2 separate congregations of believers. I am far from blind rage over this, but hearing news of this accusation left a bad taste in my mouth.
It could be that I display disapproval for this label because I believe that it is theologically flawed. Or perhaps, I just want to defend my friend from the wrath of the accuser’s bruised ego. What definitely upsets me is that the accused is such a wonderful person to call a friend. If it were not for her “double-dipping” we might not even know each other’s names. And if I were to dive into my own dipping habits it would be revealed that I have double-dipped my chips, left behind broken pieces, stuck my fingers in and stirred, and unashamedly licked the bowl. [Truly chief among these transgressions would be the “stirring” of the dip—my mother once threatened to kick me over this—where water and cream has separated it shall not blend together again.]
To cope with the accusations of double-dipping we engaged in somewhat accidental and completely unapologetic quadruple-dipping. We worshiped, we studied, we discussed, we broke bread. From church to home, from kingdom hall to tribal commune…we dipped. We stepped out of our comfort zone to walk in grace and love. I believe that you should be able to step out of familiar territory and still feel peace. I also believe that if you are hungry, you should eat.
I have spoken for years about doing a #sermoncrawl. No alcohol involved–just a conscious attempt to remove inhibitions and experience something new. I set out to do just that one Sunday and it turned out that the first stop on my #sermoncrawl was the right stop. I think my friend and I would prefer to be called #sermoncrashers instead of double-dippers. [I don’t expect that #sermoncrashers will be trending anytime soon, but if you would like a suggestion–I have a few. (Side note: throughout all our dipping–we did not forsake the gatherings at our own church–we just added more.)]
In the confident words of George Costanza, “You dip the way you want to dip … [takes a bite of the chip] I’ll dip the way I want to dip.”
What wisdom and knowledge has come from this quadruple-dipping experience?
A prayer, a poem, a mission?
The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places.
Give me the endurance to harvest up to the boundaries You have provided.
Surround me with people whose boundaries overlap with mine.
Do not let fear restrain praise within my mouth.
Let me look across the table with love and thankfulness.
Allow me share in the joys and sorrows of my friends as we lift our prayers and songs to you.
Omniscient Lord, use me for your will to be done. Lord, I pray, that when You move, I move.
“For the eyes of the LORD run to and fro throughout the whole earth, to show Himself strong on behalf of them whose heart is perfect toward Him.” 2 Chronicles 16:9
“Be wise, my son, and make my heart glad, That I may reply to him who reproaches me.” Proverbs 27:11
Give us wisdom and love as we do your kingdom work.