Our church's Advent meditations on hunger will inevitably turn toward the topic of gluttony.
I hope the discussion of this deadly sin includes more depth and nuance than simply asserting that some people starve because other people eat too much.
And I hope it's clear that not all overweight people are gluttons, and not all gluttons are fat.
If all that were true, then I would have, in my many years of living with extra weight, have been singularly responsible for the starvation of people who could have consumed all my excess calories, if only I'd said "no, thank you" to them.
That kind of guilt-focused thinking doesn't feed the hungry, and it rarely changes behavior.
Nor does it address the perception that is a day-to-day reality for the majority of people in this nation who carry excess weight. Large people tend to be perceived, even by health-care professionals who should know better, as waddling, indulgent, undisciplined images of their own greed and gluttony.
And many who see themselves as "in shape" -- especially those for whom it's an ongoing battle to stay that way -- can't conceive of the possibility that they, too, may be gluttons.
Huh?
Too many of us think of gluttony as excessive eating, and nothing more.
But C.S. Lewis, in his book "The Screwtape Letters," tells readers that gluttony can take many forms, all of which boil down to enslaving ourselves to our digestive systems, and making our tastes in food and drink into false gods.
Chowing down on a whole bag of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups at one sitting (something I used to do) is one way of being a glutton.
But Lewis -- in the diabolical voice of the demon Screwtape, addressing his "junior tempter" nephew Wormwood -- says the "gluttony of delicacy" can be even more soul-damaging than the gluttony of excess. He cites as an example a woman who always insists on "a cup of tea, weak but not too weak, and the teeniest, weeniest bit of really crisp toast." She thinks she's not a glutton because (A) the amounts she seeks to consume are small and (B) after all, she likes what she likes, and what's wrong with that? What's wrong with it is, satisfying her dietary quirks creates strife and discord.
Screwtape also sees gluttony in people who are food snobs (or wine snobs, or cigar snobs), who are prideful in their indulgences, and for whom the failure to satisfy their specific appetites results in uncharitable thoughts and actions.
Gluttony, then, is anything that turns our gullets, or any of our senses, into idols on whose altars we sacrifice the values of charity, justice, kindness or peace.
What this means, to me, is that I have to watch and pray over my own soul. Any pride I might feel in my new-found fitness, any excessive conscientiousness about the calorie content what I consume, even any discipline I might impose on myself to maintain my exercise regimen -- all of these could be gateways to gluttony, if they cause me to make satisfying my body more important than loving my neighbor and thereby loving God.
So how can we respond to a meditation on gluttony with something other than useless guilt?
I have some ideas.
I hope the discussion of this deadly sin includes more depth and nuance than simply asserting that some people starve because other people eat too much.
And I hope it's clear that not all overweight people are gluttons, and not all gluttons are fat.
If all that were true, then I would have, in my many years of living with extra weight, have been singularly responsible for the starvation of people who could have consumed all my excess calories, if only I'd said "no, thank you" to them.
That kind of guilt-focused thinking doesn't feed the hungry, and it rarely changes behavior.
Nor does it address the perception that is a day-to-day reality for the majority of people in this nation who carry excess weight. Large people tend to be perceived, even by health-care professionals who should know better, as waddling, indulgent, undisciplined images of their own greed and gluttony.
And many who see themselves as "in shape" -- especially those for whom it's an ongoing battle to stay that way -- can't conceive of the possibility that they, too, may be gluttons.
Huh?
Too many of us think of gluttony as excessive eating, and nothing more.
But C.S. Lewis, in his book "The Screwtape Letters," tells readers that gluttony can take many forms, all of which boil down to enslaving ourselves to our digestive systems, and making our tastes in food and drink into false gods.
Chowing down on a whole bag of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups at one sitting (something I used to do) is one way of being a glutton.
But Lewis -- in the diabolical voice of the demon Screwtape, addressing his "junior tempter" nephew Wormwood -- says the "gluttony of delicacy" can be even more soul-damaging than the gluttony of excess. He cites as an example a woman who always insists on "a cup of tea, weak but not too weak, and the teeniest, weeniest bit of really crisp toast." She thinks she's not a glutton because (A) the amounts she seeks to consume are small and (B) after all, she likes what she likes, and what's wrong with that? What's wrong with it is, satisfying her dietary quirks creates strife and discord.
Screwtape also sees gluttony in people who are food snobs (or wine snobs, or cigar snobs), who are prideful in their indulgences, and for whom the failure to satisfy their specific appetites results in uncharitable thoughts and actions.
Gluttony, then, is anything that turns our gullets, or any of our senses, into idols on whose altars we sacrifice the values of charity, justice, kindness or peace.
What this means, to me, is that I have to watch and pray over my own soul. Any pride I might feel in my new-found fitness, any excessive conscientiousness about the calorie content what I consume, even any discipline I might impose on myself to maintain my exercise regimen -- all of these could be gateways to gluttony, if they cause me to make satisfying my body more important than loving my neighbor and thereby loving God.
So how can we respond to a meditation on gluttony with something other than useless guilt?
I have some ideas.
- Try to change the thoughts and behaviors that, for you, give rise to gluttony, whatever they may be. That might mean trying not to use "the holidays" as an excuse for excessive consumption of anything that is not good fuel for the body.
- Aim for moderation, not austerity. Allow yourself to enjoy what you eat and drink, but keep an eye on portions.
- When you give to your food pantry -- and not just between Thanksgiving and Christmas -- consider donating food that is nutritious and not just empty calories. Better yet, give cash, which the pantry operators can use to acquire what the guests need most, often including perishable but vital foods like fresh meat, eggs, dairy, fruits and vegetables.
- Forgive yourself for your own gluttony, and don't be too quick to perceive gluttony in others.
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