We value our freedom to do any number of things in the modern age. We can often choose what, with whom, and where we do our preferred activities. But, how often do we give thought to the benefits or drawbacks of our choices?
A lot of Paul’s discussion of freedom in the epistles connects to food and drink. People either give or take offense by being inclusive or exclusive at communal meals, or by eating foods that bother others. In response, Paul contends:
“‘All things are lawful for me,’ but not all things are helpful. ‘All things are lawful for me,’ but I will not be enslaved by anything. ‘Food is meant for the stomach and the stomach for food’-and God will destroy both one and the other. The body is not meant for sexual immorality, but for the Lord, and the Lord for the body.” (1 Corinthians 6: 12-13)
The Vitruvian Man represents an idealized geometric proportion for the human body that everyone’s body deviates from, just as we do not live up to Paul’s ideal use of the body.
So, when Paul says, “The body is for the Lord and the Lord for the body,” and “I will not be enslaved by anything,” what standard is he setting for me? For us?
To answer this, I want to consider my recent experience with indulgence in food, and see if there are insights to be gained.
Indulgence and Effort
I’d just finished a week of grading papers for up to four hours each available evening. The semester had wrapped up–for better or worse–and I wanted to congratulate myself on my efforts, which I felt were better than previous years.
My thoughts turned to indulgence: what should I buy myself? What experience should I seek out to fill the deficit left by a few weeks of austerity in the area of free time and even sleep?!
I ended up getting together with my brother and eating a large dinner out. I don’t think it was wrong to feast after a period of comparative restraint.
Yet, I noticed the desire for something more didn’t go away.
I thought about the leftover cake from my wife’s birthday, still waiting at home: red velvet. One of her–and my–favorites.
And there was ice cream in the freezer. Suddenly, I’d moved from a celebratory indulgence to flirting with excess.
Several days later, I had had a hard day with the kids, and I thought that “cake would make me feel better.”
The thought bothered me. It smacked of a preoccupation with, if not dependency on, food to see me through. Food was no longer just energy or pleasing to the taste, it was also a mood elevator.
In light of these experiences, where do I draw the line on eating for enjoyment without falling into legalism?
Eating to God’s Glory
When I was a kid, I had a homework desk in my room. On that desk, my mom had placed a plaque etched with the second part of 1 Corinthians 10:31: “So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God.”
I wrestled with that concept and still do: have I done whatever I am doing to the glory of God?
How does one “eat [pizza, for example] to the glory of God?” It seems almost too specific a question to be helpful.
Instead, let’s consider the context of the idea: people were offended by eating certain foods that had been offered to idols. Paul admonishes others to avoid giving offense.
That seems easy enough. For instance, when an acquaintance told me he wouldn’t eat halal food (prepared in line with Koranic restrictions on food preparation), I responded that I had, without pangs of conscience, done so and found it delicious. He was shocked, and I made a note not to eat it in the company of the group of people we mutually belonged to.
To me, halal preparation meant nothing. It was just food; to him, it was paying honor to another religion’s god.
But, there is more to food consumption than simply not giving offense; there is the purpose of eating to begin with.
“I Have Food…You Do Not Know About”
In John 4:34, Jesus tell his disciples: “My food is to do the will of him who sent me and to accomplish his work.”
Jesus has just spoken with the woman at the well and amazed her so that she goes to tell others about Him. His disciples tell Jesus to eat, but are surprised by His response: “I have food to eat that you do not know about” (v. 32).
Is Jesus talking about literal energy derived from living in God’s will, here? Perhaps. More likely, on my reading, He has a sense of fulfillment and energy stemming from living with a purpose.
A pithy summary of this interpretation might be Nietzsche’s: “Whoever has his ‘why’ for life can tolerate almost any ‘how.'”
This quote–not coincidentally–comes from Nietzsche’s Twilight of the Idols, in which he tests all the things we substitute for meaning in our lives and finds them wanting.
Perhaps food is one of those things. We rightly focus on the dangers of eating disorders and the deleterious messages about body size and appearance that may contribute to those conditions. But this can go both ways: we also fat shame or mock people who do not eat or drink as much as we feel an occasion warrants. Both attitudes might indicate a potentially undue focus on food.
Food as an Idol
There are so many ways I personally idolize food: I think of myself as better for eating leaner foods, for spending less on dinners out, for avoiding junk foods. Or, even the variety of foods I and my kids eat can be a source of pride.
My mantra has sometimes consciously, even verbally been: “I don’t eat like so-and-so. I don’t understand why they can’t just eat like me.” I’ve gone well beyond physical sustenance into attaching personal significance to food.
And the problem is that every idol will eventually disappoint. When I take that selfie and I’m not as thin as I want, I may get mad at myself and double down on eating a certain way: the idol must be appeased.
When my kids only eat macaroni and cheese and breaded chicken, I secretly feel a sense of failure and try to cook more enticing foods. I subscribe to fruit and veggie boxes, buy new foods, and search out new recipes. What pressure does that put on them, even when I’m not expressing discontent?
A More Excellent Way
These things aren’t wrong in themselves, but I constantly have to check my attitude for why I’m dieting, exercising, cooking, or eating.
The author of Ecclesiastes has some insights about a proper attitude toward food:
“And I commend joy, for man has no good thing under the sun but to eat and drink and be joyful, for this will go with him in his toil through the days of his life that God has given him under the sun.” (Ecclesiastes 8:15)
It seems that the author of Ecclesiastes views food and drink as a manifestation of joy, but not as a substitute for toil. We can work hard and experience joy, but not in isolation: the two come paired together.
Whether we make toil or indulgence, we miss the larger picture of joy: the sense of purpose that goes with us beyond the moments of celebration or hard work.
We can bring joy to others and ourselves through food, if handled with wisdom and love. Then, we are less likely to be enslaved by food.
