While on our snowmobile trip, we ate at a delightful little diner named Shirley’s. The wait staff was the friendliest I’ve seen anywhere. In spite of eleven feet of snow and sub zero temps, their smiles and attitudes warmed the restaurant. Shirley even brought warm samples of her fresh baked specialty breads around for us to try.
It was in this restaurant that I saw the sign above. They meant it as clever and fun, but there was a time when it carried serious tones.
My question is, who gets to decide what qualifies as a hippie? For the most part, it is cultural. We were in a small rural town called, Mancelona. As we pulled up to the diner, the row of heavy duty pickups looked like a car lot. They were all diesel and all running to keep them warm. Inside were men who made a living working in this cold, but knew how to do it expertly.
We stood out. Our vehicle, clothes and even manner of speech were different. Not terribly so, but just enough.
It’s that cultural difference that brings out a prejudice against others. Their skin color is not the same as ours, their hair type is not the same as ours, their accent is different. They are different and so they are bad.
There is an authority that gets to determine right from wrong. It does so on the basis of sin and right and not appearance alone. That authority is the Bible.
Our opinion is clouded and limited by geography, custom, culture and what we know.
Galatians 3:28: There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor female: for ye are all one in Christ Jesus.
Joel Stiff's Adventure 