Martin Luther & Diet Coke
Here's why I like Real Live Preacher - he's a great writer, and he has a great creative knack for putting his finger right where it hurts. Here he talks about Martin Luther & Diet Coke...
I have a recurring daydream that comes to me quite often. I do not understand the significance of it, and if you think you do, I would prefer you keep your thoughts to yourself. I don’t really want to know.Want to read the rest? Of course you do! Click on over to the full post...
This daydream comes mostly when I should be working on a sermon or when I’m in an elevator. In the dream I am showing the 16th century reformer, Martin Luther, the modern world. How he arrived in our century is not a part of my daydream. Nor is there any explanation for why he speaks modern English.
Martin Luther is absolutely astounded by Diet Coke, elevators, and canned soup. And he says that our world smells funny.
I wince as I look at his monk’s robe, which certainly has not been washed in this or perhaps any other century. “You’re a bit ripe yourself, Marty. But what’s an odor or two among brothers in Christ, eh?”
“Well put,” he says with a polite nod.
He is startled by the fizzy pop when I open an ice cold Diet Coke. He lifts the can to his ancient lips, and his eyes open wide. Then he bends forward at the waist, spraying foamy suds all over the floor.
“What in the unholy name of Zwingli is this? It burns like a brew straight from the devil’s arse!”
“Oh, sorry. That’s called carbonation. They have this way of putting bubbles in some of the things we drink. I don’t know why we like it, but we do. I guess it’s a bit of a shock if you’re not used to it.”
He squints at the can, sounding out the letters. “'Diet of Coke.' I am not familiar with this particular council. Is there to be a disputation? Will I be asked to defend myself? You understand I’m a bit nervous after the incident at Worms.”
“Oh yeah, the Diet of Worms. That’s that council meeting where you were excommunicated, right?”
His eyes broke away from mine, and he looked around the room, then back at me. He nodded hesitantly.
“Don’t worry man, Diet Coke is a whole other thing.”
“So…how much longer will you be here?”
“Not much longer. Just a few more minutes and I have to go back.”
“Oh,” I say, sadly. “Okay, how about this? We each get to ask the other two questions about life in his time. I go first.”
Martin Luther nods in agreement.
This is the opportunity of a lifetime, and I don’t want to blow it. But suddenly I can’t think of anything to say. And time is running out. I open my mouth and say the first thing that comes to mind...