31 Flavors of Christianity
When the Church Becomes a Spiritual Ice Cream Shop
The Ice Cream Shop That Divides Us
Imagine Christianity as an ice cream shop with 31 flavors. In wealthy nations, believers browse endless options: Reformed Rocky Road, Charismatic Cherry, Contemporary Vanilla, Liturgical Lavender. Everyone picks their favorite and judges those choosing differently.
But here's what's strange: even where there's no Baskin-Robbins for hundreds of miles, even where believers meet secretly in homes, even where following Jesus means losing everything—we STILL divide ourselves into flavors:
- Pentecostal Passion Fruit vs Catholic Coconut
- Evangelical Mango vs Orthodox Original
- City Church Chocolate vs Village Church Vanilla
- Prosperity Pistachio vs Suffering Strawberry
Whether you're in an American megachurch or an Indian house church, a Filipino cathedral or an African prayer mountain—we've all learned to treat the Body of Christ like an ice cream shop where only our flavor is the "real" one.
The Message
The early Church had no flavors—just one bitter cup they all had to drink: the cup of suffering with Christ. They didn't get to choose their favorite style. They got to choose death or denial.
Today, even under persecution, we've somehow created our own spiritual Baskin-Robbins. And we're so busy arguing about which flavor is "pure" that we forget we're supposed to be one Body.
The Scriptures That Confront Us All
1 Corinthians 1:12–13 – "Each one of you says, 'I follow Paul,' or 'I follow Apollos'... Is Christ divided?"
John 17:21 – "That they may all be one... that the world may believe that you have sent me."
2 Timothy 4:3 – "People will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own passions..."
1. How Every Culture Creates Its Own "Flavors"
In the West: They divide over musical instruments, sermon length, and coffee quality
In Africa: Division over prosperity teaching vs suffering theology, traditional vs modern worship
In Asia: Historic churches vs new movements, registered vs underground
In Latin America: Catholic traditions vs Evangelical fervor vs Pentecostal power
In the Middle East: Ancient liturgy vs contemporary expression, cultural Christianity vs convert passion
Every culture creates its own "31 flavors"—and then fights over which ones are legitimate.
Even where choosing Christ costs everything, we find ways to say other believers aren't choosing Him the "right" way.
2. When You Can't Afford Ice Cream But Still Judge Flavors
Here's the irony that should humble us all:
In places where Christians are persecuted, believers still divide over "flavors" they can't even afford to taste. The underground church judges the registered church for "compromise." The registered church judges the underground church for "rebellion."
In places of poverty, where there's barely bread for communion, churches still split over prosperity gospel vs poverty theology.
In places where Christians are 2% of the population, that 2% divides into 20 denominations.
We're like people arguing over ice cream flavors during a famine.
3. What If We're All Just Tasting Different Parts of the Same Christ?
Every faithful tradition holds real sweetness:
Pentecostal Fire Flavor: Bold faith that expects miracles because God is alive
Catholic Ancient Recipe: 2000 years of depth, martyrs, mystics, and faithfulness
Orthodox Original: Liturgy that survived empires and keeps heaven close
Evangelical Urgent Orange: Every soul matters, every moment counts
Charismatic Celebration: Joy is warfare, worship is weapon
Underground Secret Sauce: Faith that costs everything tastes different
African Prophetic Punch: Dreams, visions, and warfare prayer that shakes kingdoms
Asian Endurance Vanilla: Patient suffering that outlasts persecution
What if—stay with me—what if Jesus created a Body with different parts on purpose?
What if your flavor isn't THE flavor, but just YOUR flavor in His grand design?
4. The Real Tragedy of Our Ice Cream Wars
While we fight over flavors:
- Hindu extremists burn churches (they don't check which denomination first)
- Islamic fundamentalists kill believers (they don't care if you're Pentecostal or Catholic)
- Secular governments restrict faith (they ban all flavors equally)
- The lost die without Christ (they can't taste any flavor if we won't share)
The persecutors already see us as one. Why can't we?
5. What Happens When Flavors Learn to Melt Together
Imagine:
- The Catholic priest hides the Pentecostal pastor's family when persecution comes
- The wealthy city church shares its building with the poor village fellowship
- The quiet liturgical believers learn to pray like the all-night prayer warriors
- The emotional worshippers learn to treasure the ancient creeds
- The theologians honor the simple faith of the uneducated saints
- The prosperity preachers and suffering servants realize they need each other's truth
Not mixing into one bland vanilla—but serving together from the same shop.
⛔️ Not All Flavors Are Ice Cream
Let's be clear: Some things claiming to be flavors aren't even ice cream.
To be in the shop, you must confess:
- Jesus is the eternal Son of God (not just teacher or prophet)
- Born of virgin, crucified for sins, physically risen
- The ONLY way to the Father
- Lord of all, returning to judge
If someone's serving something else—Buddhism Banana, New Age Nugget, Prosperity-Without-Repentance, Universalist Unity—that's not a flavor of Christianity. That's a different shop entirely.
"No one comes to the Father except through Me." — John 14:6
We can love all people. We can't accept all paths.
6. From Ice Cream Judges to Cross Carriers
What if we stopped arguing about flavors and asked better questions:
Instead of: "Why don't they worship like us?"
Ask: "How can we worship together when persecution comes?"
Instead of: "Their theology is shallow/rigid/wrong"
Ask: "What has Jesus taught them that we need to learn?"
Instead of: "We're the pure remnant"
Ask: "How can we serve the whole Body?"
A Word to the Global Church
To those in persecution: Your unity isn't about preference—it's about survival. Show us what it means to need each other.
To those in poverty: You share actual bread while others debate theology. Show us what it means to be family.
To those as minorities: Your witness depends on your love. Show us what unity costs.
To those in comfort: Your 31 flavors are a luxury. Learn from those who have only Christ.
The Bottom Line
The Gospel isn't ice cream. It's bread and wine—broken body, shed blood.
You don't shop for a cross. You carry it.
You don't choose your suffering. You embrace it.
You don't pick your brothers. You love them.
Maybe if we stopped treating church like Baskin-Robbins and started treating it like the Last Supper—one table, one bread, one cup, all of us knowing someone's about to betray, someone's about to deny, everyone's about to scatter, but Jesus praying we'd be one anyway—maybe then the world would believe.