You’re on the horns of a dilemma: A member of your family loves restaurants that serve all-natural-no-preservatives or meatfat, fleshless-food.
It’s not a matter of faith, just a matter of taste. She doesn’t mind bland tasting things soaked in soy, battered in bristle flour, tasting like wet cardboard and tempe.
As a loving husband, (oops… I gave myself away!), you live with your wife in an understanding way, take her to the no-kill zone, and offer to share a plate of gluten-free product with steamed veggies.
That’s not dilemma, that’s love.
The problem lies with all those idols decorating the establishment: the multi-headed thing with wings, the big, framed, all-knowing eye , and that lady with eight arms and thirty-two breasts sitting atop the coffee carafe. What’s a Christian to do? You know that an idol is nothing, still, those ugly pieces of wood and stone and metal and plastic bug the heck out of you because other people believe they have some sort of power.
And while you are chewing on the baby broccoli, you’re forced to stare into that big, framed, all-knowing eye… while trying not to stare at that idol-lady with the eight arms and—oh, nevermind!
Here’s what you do. Take an attractive Gospel tract, like a Million-dollar bill or something, and place it strategically on the idol. When the all-natural-cotton-baggy-pants set gives a holy acknowledgement to the lifeless thing, they will—out of intense curiosity—grab that tract, possibly read and obey the message, and turn to the one true God who gave them life and breath and everything else!
Or, they’ll just crumple it up and throw it away. Oh! But what fun!!!