Donuts, Chicken, and Our Polarized Culture

 You may have heard of the controversy about Chick-Fil-A's DEI (Diversity, Equity, Inclusiveness) policy. It seems to me that some conservative Christians have been too quick on the trigger in reacting to something that they think should generate outrage. Here is an article from a blogger that I like. Dennison, as he often does, says in essence, "Let's cool our jets."

I had a personal experience that reminds me of the chicken-sandwich-kerfluffle. One of my grandpa things is to do a donut run whenever I'm visiting with my grandkids. Most of my grandchildren are grownup, and the one who isn't thinks she is. Still, they seem to enjoy Grandpa going out before breakfast and bringing home some pastry. I know for sure that Grandpa enjoys it a lot.

On my last donut run, I went to a local donut shop that I've come to like. Most of the business there is drive-through, but an enjoyable part of the experience for me is going in, smelling the smell of fresh donuts, and, perhaps, interacting with another early-morning pastry fetcher. On this trip I had a pleasant 30-second encounter with a youngish guy who properly "sir"ed me, as his elder. He held the door for me and I for him, as he exited with sweet treats and coffee. Across generational and racial pseudo-boundaries we agreed on the good early morning aroma. 

I was waited on by a very nice young lady. She got my order right, pleasantly helped me get the right mix in my box of a dozen, and handled the credit card transaction flawlessly. She put a wad of napkins in the box and thanked me with a smile. We found no hair stuck to any of the pastries. If I were a donut shop operator I'd want an employee just like this young lady.

Thus far, I've only described the donut server based on the things that really matter. Everything else about this woman was totally "un-me." It was almost like she was wearing a t-shirt that said, "Please be offended at me." Her outfit included a spiked collar suspending a pair of handcuffs. Her hair was turquoise blue. Her tattoos included facial markings that clearly had a feline look. There is more. In another context, if I knew this woman well enough to engage her in conversation, I'd probably inquire about her appearance and what lay beneath it. Everything about her looked like she is looking for love/acceptance/meaning/satisfaction in all the wrong places. There was a bit of an ache in my heart for her and others like her.

The fact is, though, my 90-second encounter with the donut server was about donuts. She handled that transaction flawlessly.

• Do I want this woman--probably a college student with initiative enough to get up early and go to work--to have a job, or do I want her to be a burden to her neighbors?
• Beneath all of what I regard as her utterly outlandish get-up is this woman a bearer of God's image?
• Is she someone to whom I should show kindness and treat with the same love that Christ showed for her and me--in equal amounts?
• Did she do exactly what she should do for a grandpa out on an excursion to please his grandkids?
• Can I really say that "I have it all together?"

My questions force me and perhaps push you toward a position that part of me doesn't like. As I answer each question I very much want to add a "yeah but."

Some businesses chose to require a strict appearance code for their employees. Others allow rednecks to wear their John Deere caps, retired execs to don a white shirt and tie, and let gray-haired women look aged versions of June Cleaver. The donut shop I visited, obviously, pushes that freedom of choice to the max.

The bottom line has to count for something.

We enjoyed our donuts.