How low can entertainment go? There's just no telling.

Marlon Wayans set the tone at the last MTV Video Music Awards by dropping his pants in the first five minutes. Aerosmith's Steven Tyler got bleeped out when he started talking about a sex act. Macy Gray -- presenting Best Pop Video to 'N Sync with LL Cool J -- ignored whatever was on her TelePrompTer and started talking about a private body part. And profanity was heard from the stage so frequently that you'd have thought the show was scripted by a rap group (Austin Scaggs, "Oops! ... The VMAs Again," Rolling Stone, October 12, 2000, 23).

Welcome to the filthy, raunchy, violent and hate-filled world of pop culture. As the chart-busting superstar Eagles used to sing, "You can check out any time you like, but you can't ever leave."

Entertainment Weekly magazine has run a cover story on the filth coming out of Hollywood, asking the question: "Has showbiz finally gone too far?" Disgusting lyrics. Privates on parade. Anything, absolutely ANYTHING, for a laugh. And sometimes it looks as though we don't even care.

The only taboo that seems to exist any more is a taboo against taboos -- and this is not a healthy state of affairs. In a surprisingly thoughtful essay, Entertainment Weekly points out that because we are so anxious to avoid boredom these days, we are UNNECESSARILY tolerant of raunch. The notion of indecency has become obsolete, and in our hunger for stimulation we snatch up tickets to outrageous flicks such as Scary Movie, South Park, and Me, Myself & Irene.

Of course, not everyone is outraged. Maybe some of you saw Nutty Professor II and thought that Granny Klump and Buddy Love were hilarious. Maybe you get a kick out of Howard Stern and Jerry Springer. There are plenty of folks who see nothing wrong with the current state of entertainment. (Lisa Schwarzbaum, "Lewd Awakening," Entertainment Weekly, August 11, 2000, 20ff).

There's just no accounting for taste. These days, if it excites the senses, it's going to hit the screen.

But what about content?

Shouldn't we be accounting for CONTENT? Taste isn't everything, you see. You've also got to have nutrition.

Put aside for a second the idea that standards of decency have slipped. Ignore the fact that what was shocking yesterday is ho hum today. Forget that flavors are always going to be changing, and that pleasure-seeking people are always going to be looking for new sensory stimulation. Hey, I'll admit it: I sometimes linger for a while on Jerry Springer or Howard Stern when I am channel-surfing late at night. I don't recommend it, but I do it.

Given the fact that exposure to this sort of stuff is going to be part of our diet, let's talk about what's really good for us. Let's talk nutrition.

When Jesus appeared to the disciples by the Sea of Tiberias, he didn't arrive in a limo and make a bold and flashy celebrity appearance. In fact, his closest friends didn't even recognize him when he stood on the beach just after daybreak. But he knew that his fishing buddies had endured a long and frustrating night on the lake, failing to catch even a single fish, and so he called out to them, "Cast the net to the right side of the boat, and you will find some" (John 21:6).

"Yeah, right," they probably thought, scratching their heads as they looked at the stranger. "As if."

But they followed his guidance, and suddenly their net was so full of fish that they couldn't haul it in. Wrestling the catch to shore, they discovered that they had snagged 153 large fish.

Nutritious.

In addition, Jesus was waiting for them, hunched over a charcoal fire, cooking fish and bread. "Come and have breakfast," he invited them, scattering any doubt that he was the Resurrected Lord. Jesus took the bread and gave it to them, and did the same with the fish (vv. 9-13).

Jesus could have put on a show, but he didn't. He could have rocked them and shocked them and showed them that he was the death-defeating King of the World, but he took another tack.

He fed them.

Pop culture today is full of empty calories: Filth, violence, and gratuitous sex that excite the senses but leaves us feeling famished -- if not downright sick to our stomachs. The culture of Christ, on the other hand, is packed with nutrition: Purity, peace, and sacrificial love that fill our hearts and nourish our bodies, minds and spirits.

It's the difference between junk food and home cooking. Chips and candy versus bread and fish. The lyrics of Eminem, "My words are like a dagger with a jagged edge / That'll stab you in the head," over against the invitation of Jesus, "Come and have breakfast."

Which would you rather feast on?

When life looks bleak, as it did to the disciples on the Sea of Tiberias, it is so much better to be fed by Christ than to scrounge for sustenance among the CDs, TV shows, videos and movies of contemporary culture. Sure, you might find a tasty snack here and there -- for who doesn't get a sugar rush from a catchy tune or a clever joke? -- but for deep and lasting nutrition, there's nothing like the spiritual food being offered by our Resurrected Lord.

Our culture's empty calories simply don't provide the nourishment you need when you are sitting by the bedside of a sick child in the hospital. When you are grieving the loss of a much loved spouse. When you are facing the drudgery of another day at a dead-end job. At times like these, you need nutrition. You need the One who comes with bread and fish.

The question is: Are we eating as we should? Parents who give their children a steady diet of junk food for breakfast run the risk of having their kids yanked by Social Services -- yet we seem to be unconcerned about the empty calories that enter our minds and hearts every day. How much junk are we tolerating? For ourselves? For our children? For our family? For our church?

The speed punk band Sugar Ray is nothing but a "rush of empty calories," laments Kieran Grant in the Toronto Sun. Reviewing one of their concerts, he labels their music "a letdown, all heavy-handed shell around a lightweight filling, with almost nothing underneath the staccato beats and chugging guitar riffs except attitude and goofy antics." Is this the kind of stuff we want to live on? (Kieran Grant, "A Sugar Ray rush of empty calories," Toronto Sun, February 10, 1998)

Clearly, it's time to get back to bread and fish, and away from pop-cultural calories that do not satisfy. Bread is anything which unites us with our Risen Lord Jesus, linking us in a broken-bread bond that began with the Last Supper and continues to the present day. Fish is that which reminds us of the power of our Lord to miraculously provide, as he did in the feeding of the multitude and in the amazing catch of the disciples on the lake. Bread and fish remind us that Christ is always with us, and that he has power to meet our deepest needs.

Now THAT'S nutrition. No question about it.

But Jesus comes to us with more than a desire to fill us and to feed us. He also appears in order to issue a challenge: "Feed my sheep" (v. 17). Jesus wants us to do more than feast on his bread and fish -- he wants us to see our mission as a "feeding" mission. He calls us to do whatever we can to link people with him, and to help them to experience his miraculous power.

Our challenge is to take Christ's "faith food" and present it to a world that knows only empty calories. We do this through the posting of church events on our Internet website. We do this through a bread ministry that takes nourishing gifts to people who visit us in worship. We do this through quality music and Christian education for adults and children. We do this through participation in the variety of mission programs that were featured in this morning's Signs and Wonders presentation.

Jesus feeds us with the bread of life and then says, "Follow me." As we walk this path together, we are challenged to provide life-giving nutrition to a starving world. Amen.