I’m eating one of my favorite vegetables as I type. Sometimes I need a divine writing muse of sorts and food routinely volunteers.

Today’s source of inspiration flows from reheated Brussels sprouts grilled with sweet onions. Fashioned last night on the Weber outside. 

My wife doesn’t like the house fumed with the sprouts’ off-putting odor.

The mini-cabbages never find themselves on the world’s favorite vegetables list. No top 10 for them. Not even a top 500. 

Even their name speaks to a limited following. It’s Brussels with an S since the veggie’s fan club originates from that Belgium city. Adding a balsamic and honey glaze might move them into the top 300. Serving a batch resurrected from the frozen variety, well, that’s a nail in the coffin.

God’s Word often tastes like Brussels sprouts for many people.

Especially Jesus and His life story and the central role of crucifixion. It’s offensive on multiple levels.

To elevate a gruesome variety of execution. To present it as God’s gift to mankind. 

To insist the One who died on it was God-in-the-flesh. To claim it’s the only way for man’s disobedience to be resolved. 

To make the cross – an ancient electric chair – the symbol for people to adore. To wear one around your neck.

Well, one can begin to see why it would trip some people up. Cause others to pass it up. Turn their backs. Settle for something else.

Yet once you taste the Good News of Jesus…

Once you appreciate that the brokenness you’re well aware of doesn’t define you…

Once you grasp how letting go of your solutions and your wisdom allows for God’s perfect wisdom and will to guide you…

Then what once appeared disgusting becomes rewarding. What once appeared foolishness becomes incredibly wise. And tastes really, really good.

Even if you don’t like Brussels sprouts.