Praise The Lord And Pass The Bean Burrito

In 12 hours or so from now, I, much like Christ, will retreat into the wilderness. For forty some days I will harbor my body and soul from all temptation, cleansing myself before I begin my ministry. Much like Noah I will traverse the flooded Earth for forty days and forty nights doing God’s work. But alas, unlike Noah, my ark will be animal free, because animals are my temptation.

Beginning tomorrow and continuing until Easter Sunday, I will be eschewing meat. (For those of you who went to school down south, “eschewing meat”, means to shun or avoid meat, not to blow it out my nose.) That’s right folks; in a bold move of penitence, I am not going to eat beef, pork, chicken, or any other beast or fowl. My abstinence of meat eating will become the sustenance that feeds my pangs of contrition. (Hey, that was pretty good.) As my body rids itself of the lust inducing zoological contaminates, my soul will become pliable and ready to be molded in the image of our Maker. So let it be written, so let it be done.

Much as Moses led the Jews from bondage, my willpower and belief in the Almighty will set me free from the yoke of lust and oral sensation perpetuated by the smell of bacon frying or the beautiful, yet unholy sight of a hot, juicy Wendy’s Double with mayo, mustard, pickles, tomato, and cheese. It will not be easy. I will be tempted. Satan will attack me in the form of Dave Thomas holding a Bacon Junior Cheeseburger saying in his affable grandfatherly manner, “Eat Me Matt, you know you want to.” But I will remain steadfast, and say unto the malignant meat marketer, “I rebuke you Dave. I rebuke you Satan and your juicy goodness. In the name of the Father, the Son, and Alyssa Milano, I cast you back into the nether regions.”

Your meat is no good here Satan. Beans, rice, grilled cheese, and an occasional visit to Mrs. Paul, patron Saint of Fishsticks, are my calling. Lure and tempt me as you will, but I am shielded by the grace of God, and a bowl of Black Beans with sour cream on top. As the Easter Triduum draws nigh hit me with your best shot…fill my dreams with visions of rare prime rib, turn my bed into a charbroil grill that smells of sausage patties and ribeye steak, you can even leave a can of SPAM…you heard me right SPAM, the Matt-Man’s manna, in my mailbox. Your attempts to cruci-fry me will be unsuccessful.

And when this sojourn is over my ministry shall begin. With capillaries wide open, and my bowels feeling firm from the fiber, Christ Almighty and I are going to storm the Trinity Broadcasting Network offices and replace the thieving meat eaters with faithful vegetarians. Paul and Jan Crouch will be replaced by Captain and Tennille. Paula White gone, say hello to Tippi Hedren. Benny Hinn…sorry pal, but Elvis Costello is getting’ your jet. And lastly, Pastor Rod “I Eat Meat Not” Parsley, give Alec Baldwin a hearty handshake. And the congregation said, “Amen.”

My work of faith complete I will then retire to live out my remaining days sitting next to the Lord eating bratwurst and White Castle Hamburgers. If one follows God, heaven is a good place indeed.

Cheers…

And Now…The Gospel According to Alyssa Milano:

“I turned vegetarian after 9/11. A friend of mine came back from New York and said that he couldn't stand the smell of burnt flesh. It immediately reminded me of a barbecue.”

--Alyssa Milano