The other day my husband and I were teasing each other about things we hold dear that the other can do without. Coconut is one of my husband’s favorite flavors; I reject even the slightest hint of it. He fondly remembers 80s rock ‘n roll; I prefer folk (please don’t hold that against me, I just like songs that tell a story!). I recall Young Frankenstein as a funny movie; he shrugs his shoulder over whatever small snippet he even cares to remember.
The appeal of modern art escapes both of us, yet we know that venue offers some of the most expensive items on our planet. And I can’t even count the number of comedians who must make a living at humor that doesn’t work for us. But we do have several we both love (Jim Gaffigan and Brian Regan come to mind.)
Another example is in reading taste. One of my favorite books is Peace Like A River by Leif Enger. Over the years, I’ve recommended this book to many people. To my surprise, after a close friend of mine checked it out she confessed she couldn’t get past the first few chapters. She tried, she said, but just couldn’t get into it. Tried! Oh, my! It didn’t take any effort for me to love it from cover to cover. Each and every word is like a lesson in the most elegant use of our language.
Isn’t it curious that whether it’s our taste buds or our funny bone, different things appeal to different people? Even among compatible people raised in the same culture! Let’s not even start on the varieties of tastes from around the world.
Of course there is no right or wrong in matters of taste. It’s simply proof of the variety God gifted to us. We might shake our head when we hear about some popular trend that holds no interest for us. But it should be a reminder that we were created by a God of endless variety!
