Mama Jackson

Lots of folks may scorn the idea of Mama Jackson's candy bag. It's not spiritual. It's not health food. It promotes at least one of the deadly sins (greed). When the kids are thinking of the candy bag, they aren't focused on singing or dancing or speaking in tongues or something.

But you know, when the kids grow up and return to the church, that candy bag is one of their fondest memories.

Years ago, when I was still involved in youth ministry, I remember an article in Group magazine, a professional magazine for youth group leaders. Someone wanted to find out why Church A had poor attendance at their youth groups while Church B was doing extremely well. Charismatic leaders? Great music? Thoughtful programs? So they asked the kids and got a simple answer.

Pizza.

And every time I tell someone from outside the church how rarely we eat together and try to describe our BYOF (Bring Your Own Food) church picnics, I receive the same puzzled look. My mother gave me the look this morning. I might have been describing a ceremonial bloodletting from the look on her face.

Anyhow, as I've been getting into cooking more and more—getting good with breads and cookies—one question has crossed my mind: When will I ever have a chance to do this kind of baking for someone else? I don't have an answer. And I get pretty tired of eating from the same batch of brownies for a week.

I've strayed from my point. I was intending to end this with a suggestion that the church begin thinking of food in the same light as music. Put the same amount of effort and money into congregational eating as we have in congregational singing, and appoint a Food Czar. And my nomination would be Mama Jackson.