Hot dogs . . .
Does it get any more American than hot dogs? Mom, apple pie, baseball and hot dogs — the essence of the good ol’ U.S. of A.
Mom, apple pie and baseball are what they are. Hot dogs, on the other hand, are usually not what they pretend to be.
It’s the subject of many urban legends, the object of many grade-schoolers’ double dares: do hot dogs contain pig snouts and chicken feathers, or are they really made from high-quality meat?
According to the National Hot Dog and Sausage Council: “All hot dogs are cured and cooked sausages that consist of mainly pork, beef, chicken and turkey or a combination of meat and poultry. Meats used in hot dogs come from the muscle of the animal and looks much like what you buy in the grocer’s case. Other ingredients include water, curing agents and spices, such as garlic, salt, sugar, ground mustard, nutmeg, coriander and white pepper.”
However, there are a couple of caveats. The “combination” of meats includes things like iver, kidneys and hearts. The U.S. Department of Agriculture requires that they be disclosed on the ingredient label as “with variety meats” or “with meat by-products.” But, they can still be in there.
Further, watch out for statements like “made with mechanically separated meats (MSM).” Mechanically separated meat is “a paste-like and batter-like meat product produced by forcing bones, with attached edible meat, under high pressure through a sieve or similar device to separate the bone from the edible meat tissue,” according to the U.S. Food Safety and Inspection Service (FSIS).
Although the FSIS maintains that MSM are safe to eat, mechanically separated beef is no longer allowed in hot dogs or other processed meats (as of 2004) because of fears of mad cow disease. Hot dogs can contain no more than 20 percent mechanically separated pork, and any amount of mechanically separated chicken or turkey.
It dawned on me the other day, that my faith was forever of the pig snouts and chicken feathers variety. That is, it wasn’t “high-quality.” For decades I was content to go through the motions of real faith, while in actuality I had a “made with mechanically separated meats” type of faith. It looked good, smelled good, even tasted good when nicely warmed and placed on a bun. But it was a “meat by-product” faith, not a “high-quality” faith.
So what? Who cares?
A pastor friend of mine whose wife just left him for another man cares. A lady dying of lung cancer who is concerned that her husband is floundering in his faith and is afraid he might lose it entirely when she dies cares. A “little ol’ lady” in Illinois who has never met me but was on the verge of committing suicide and called my number in desperation cares. A friend whose wife is “suddenly” killing herself with crack and alcohol, has abandoned her family, leaving dad to explain to the kids why their mother refuses to see them and now looks like a concentration camp survivor cares.
Why do they care? Because my faith is no longer as composed of pig snouts and chicken feathers as it used to be and has enabled me to share myself and my trust in the Lord of the Universe with them. I became their port in the storm. Remember, I’m a nobody. I am unable to do anything to help anyone. But, because of the “high-quality meat” type of faith that has become the expression of who I’m becoming, the Giver of Peace has been able to bring calm in the face of turmoil through me.
I am humbled . . .