Back in the days before motherhood, those days when I had full function of my mental capacities, the church I attended had the most amazing pastor I think I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. He had ways of doing things that made the mundane mind-blowing. Potlucks? Psh-aw!

It’s a Chili Dump! No, I’m not talking about our bathroom nightmares AFTER eating chili. Ew. I’m talking about everyone bringing their best, most awesome, multi-generational recipes for chili and? Dump it all in one pot. Together. Stirred, heated and served as one original amazing helping of chili. If you like it spicy, bring in your spicy. Tomatoey? Dump it in, Granny. Bean-less? Carne that asada chili right on in here. With green peppers, without. Mostly from a can, completely from scratch. Whatever your schtick, that day, it all worked.

And let me tell you, I wasn’t much of a chili fan before that event. And now that I love me a big ole bowl of the stuff, I can still say, without a doubt, THAT was the best bowl of chili I have ever eaten. Yes, even better than mine. The seasonings were perfect, the heat was perfect, the meat, the beans the…everything. Everyone brought their best, everyone’s was featured, together it was splendid.

So last night, Mom and I met for dinner. It was a specifically scheduled, “I need to talk to you,” dinner which, whether you’re 14 or 46 can be a bit intimidating. Ends up, Mom just needed to bend my ear about something, get a little external perspective…you know the deal. You know full well what your answer is, but you just need that ONE more person to say, “Hey, why don’t you…” and you’re good to go. My “why don’t you…” involved someone else bringing their chili to the pot. Stirring it in, mixing it with the other recipes she already had and hopefully, ending up with a great vat of stick-to-your-rib goodness. I knew this person had a good recipe for chili. Hopefully, others that are involved won’t just dump an entire box of cayenne pepper into it.

And here comes my point. When Mom and I began dinner, we started chatting about Osama Bin Laden’s death. And not only about his death, but the things we’ve witnessed online as a result of it. The things said about it that have completely baffled us. The fact that much of our bafflement has come from people that don’t normally baffle us in these types of national upheavals. Now, I’m not naive enough to think that something as huge as the world’s most wanted terrorist getting killed, by our nation no less, wouldn’t bring out the baffling commentary. But normally, those aren’t the people that come to chili dumps anyway, are they?

“God hates chili.”

“I worked my fingers to the bone to make my OWN chili. I don’t share the recipe; I definitely don’t share the chili.”

“Chili makes everyone gassy and this is a community activity. Let’s be sensible about this and bring 400 trays of Rice Krispie treats.”

“I don’t like my chili spicy. If you put your spicy chili in the same vat as my mild chili, you’ll ruin the integrity of my recipe.”

Fine, keep your chili to yourselves and go play alone. And normally, that’s how it is – the extreme chili makers just go play in their kitchens with other extreme chili makers who cook (and probably look) exactly like them.

Isn’t that boring? So, I’m more of a middle-grounder on many things, and definitely one that says, “Hey, bring that super spicy stuff on over here.” Why? It mellows a bit when mixed with the mild. Her peppers mix with his ground turkey and together they make beautiful food.

But this time, even the middle grounders, those who I consider to have common sense, an open mind, a pliable heart have come out and are spouting all sorts of things that are just as ugly and judgmental as our extreme chili makers of the past.

“I didn’t see Mildred put her chili in here so it didn’t happen, and without solid proof that everyone’s recipe is in here, then this isn’t even worth eating.”

“I think this is all entirely too spicy and fiery, so instead of bringing my best, I’m going to pour 10 gallons of water into this pot and make it completely flavorless. Since it’s too much for ME, no one gets to enjoy it.”

“HE came up with this idea? I mean, it’s a great thing we’re doing, but I’ll be damned if I take part in it b/c HIS name is all over it. He wants credit for everything. Our great people made this chili, not him.”

“What do you mean, there won’t be a chili cook-off? This church deserves to choose whose chili is best before we go mixing it all up together.”

Are you getting my point? Have I hit any nerves? I hope so. I am so frustrated with the dialogue of our nation. Today, yesterday, 3 years ago and before. If all you can add to the conversation is pointless sarcasm (because well-thought-out sarcasm can be divine), bigotry, hatred, judgment!!!!!!, name-calling (oh my goodness, the name calling – what is wrong with us??) and ugliness, then please, please. Don’t come to the chili dump.

Better yet, look at what you’re bringing to the mix. Is it your absolute best? It is a great recipe? Or, is it a big ole vat of water, destroying all the nuances of flavor? Or is it an industrial sized bottle of cayenne overloading the balance with so much fire that no one can taste anything? Or, are you so determined it’s going to be horrible that you’ll just sit there, judging everyone else’s recipes, yet not adding to the pot yourself because this whole activity is so far beneath you?

Come to the chili dump. Really, it’s politics anyway, and doesn’t that give everyone gas?

And now for one more challenge – post your favorite chili recipe here, on my facebook page, wherever. If I get quite a few, I’ll post them. I dare you to try someone else’s recipe.