(I’m in Charleston, South Carolina right now for Thanksgiving. I asked everyone’s favorite lady blogger to sit in. If you’re not reading Stacy From Louisville yet you really should. She is fantastical.)
I have it on good authority that Jelly Belly Jelly Beans are God’s favorite gourmet candy. Granted, Skittles have their rightful place in God’s heart, but every now and again, the Trinity throws caution to the wind and goes epicureious.
At roughly $8 a pound they’re pricey. That’s why God doesn’t indulge in them too often. Can’t you imagine God’s dilemma: Build another mega church or eat Jelly Bellies?
What I love so much about Jelly Bellies is that they have all these unusual flavors. For example, there’s not just a “strawberry” jelly bean. Instead, there’s “strawberry daiquiri” or “strawberry jam”. But that’s just the basics. With other flavors like “buttered popcorn”, “jalapeño”, and even “ear wax” and “booger” they’ve cornered the market on flavor and variety.
One untapped market, however, would be the Jelly Bellies of Christendom. What if every aspect of the Christian church could be condensed down into a portable, shiny coated, sugary confection?
Here are a few I came up with…
lackluster grey in color, with human hair attached to resemble the combover, these beans tastes of pocket lint and the Lyon’s Club with a hint of Halls cough drops mixed in for authenticity
hot pink in color and served warm to represent hot flashes and cattiness, the Women’s Ministry jelly bean has a faint metallic after taste from sequin holiday sweaters and over accessorizing
always pastel and triple confection coating make it so super sweet it comes with a pre-measured insulin syringe
Super Sweaty Pastor
usually wrapped in a monogrammed handkerchief, these beans are slightly salty and super sticky from perspiration, taste like licking a Thompson Chain Reference and smell like a locker room
dusty and pocked with mildew this little slice of heaven is harder and harder to find but try to remove them from the Christendom mix and heads are gonna roll
soggy and yellow with brown spots, this bean is made from 100% high fructose corn syrup, these beans have a tendency to start off sweet but will give you a headache before swallowing
saturated in volatile, hormonal, acne baths these pink and blue dudes quite often turn purple and smell like the Jonas Brothers
sharp, burning diesel fuel with vinyl seats aftertaste, discerning pallets will note hints of aspercream or youth group Slurpee puke, depending on who last used it
light blue in color, pop one in your mouth and savor the flavors of stagnant water and hip waders, with hairy notes of the toupee that fell off the last guy who got dunked (I have actually seen this happen and it is spectacular)
orange drink in color and spotted with glittery specks, this hyperactive bean tastes like Elmer’s glue and smells like sweaty loose change collected for missions
strict rules govern how and when this bean may be eaten, tastes like engagement ring and pulpit envy with a peppery, slightly legalistic twang
dry and pasty with a grapey, fermented finish – but for those of you who only have communion once a month, these beans are only found in every 1 out of 4 bags
The First Time Visitor
Oh, wait, we haven’t seen one of these in years. Never mind.
So there you have it. My best stab at reducing Christian culture to jelly bean status. But surely Christendom isn’t limited to my creativity alone. What about you? Surely you can come up with additional flavors to add to the mix.
And speaking of mix, what happens when you combine some of these flavors? For example:
4 Church Nursery Jelly beans + 1 Pastor’s Wife = A mouth full of Nervous Breakdown
But that’s just one example. Let’s make up some more flavors and combinations and see where it all leads. Jelly Bellies of Christendom: Game on!
p.s. Check out more of Stacy from Louisville right here.