How would Jesus tip?
I’m on vacation and admittedly not at all in the mood for actually writing about the things I have on the list to write about. So today I’m mooching off of my other favorite blog (besides Suicide Food). Richard Beck, in a post generally about Christian witness, just posted a little blurb about the experience of waiting tables on Sunday afternoons, i.e., for the Church crowd.
The single most damaging phenomenon to the witness of Christianity in America today is the collective behavior of the Sunday morning lunch crowd. Never has a more well-dressed, entitled, dismissive, haughty or cheap collection of Christians been seen on the face of the earth.
I exaggerate of course. But I hope you see my point.
Having spent a few good years as a waitress I can say this is an axiom of restaurant life. Much like having nightmares about the table you forgot to get the ketchup to, I thought the dread of having to work the Sunday lunch shift was relegated to the secrets only servers know about the human condition, but, alas, there you have it. He must have spent some time in the front of the house or knows a lot of people who have. When I’m President, I think I’ll make it a rule that nobody gets to vote until they’ve had to clean public bathrooms for a week and spent time as a server in a restaurant.
