On gluttony and sin in America

I found an interesting article online today about obesity in America, wherein the author points out that Gluttony is one of the seven deadly sins and the rapidly growing rate of obesity in the United States is strong evidence that it is one of our worst temptations. Furthermore, as the "temple of the Holy Spirit," the author argues that we are called to take care of our physical selves by staying healthy, even if that means finding time to work out or eat somewhere besides fast food. All of this seems very logical to me.

Unfortunately, the article drew a very strong reaction. As it was posted in a blog, readers are able to publicly comment on it, and the tone of the comments I read is surprising. One jeering poster calls the blog "the most right wing evangelical bigoted publication in the history of journalism" (presumably partially for the fact that the article was posted there in the first place) and asks the blogger (but not, interestingly enough, the author of the article) "who will go to hell the quickest, the overeater, the Catholic, the Jew, or the homo?" Others defensively and angrily remind her of Jesus' scriptural admonishment not to judge. I was appalled at responses to what seemed to me a non-judgmental, logical, and morally sound argument. In fact, I think such responses bring up a myriad of additional issues on contemporary American sinfulness and religious perception.

From the tone of the blog itself (and the comments that follow), the blogger is probably some kind of Evangelical Christian--perhaps Southern Baptist, perhaps another organized sect, perhaps simply non-denominational. I don't know if she thinks Jews, homosexuals, or Catholics are going to hell, but I'll give her the benefit of the doubt and assume she doesn't condemn others arbitrarily. That, however, is undeniably a problem in the American Christian community. I don't know why certain conservative (and often high-profile) Christian sects are so eager to condemn everyone else to hell, but it is presumptuous (only God really knows the content of our hearts), it is insulting, it is hypocritical (they are surely as sinful and needful of Grace as those they condemn), and it is almost absurdly opposite to the recorded scriptural actions of Jesus. Instead of condemning them, Jesus reached out to sinners with authority and compassion in order to inspire them to be better people (c.f. the woman accused of adultery, John 8:11), and prevented his followers from punishing those who rejected his message (e.g. Luke 9:51-56). In fact, the only people Jesus condemned were those who condemned others, calling them "hypocrites" and "whited sepulchers" (Matthew 23).

The claim that Christians should "judge not, lest [we] be judged" (Matthew 7:1), while scripturally accurate, is also scripturally incomplete--a classic case of taking a bible verse out of context. Jesus follows this statement by declaring "in the same way you judge others, you will be judged...How can you say to your brother, 'let me remove that splinter from your eye,' while the wooden beam is in your eye? You hypocrite, remove the wooden beam from your eye first; then you will see clearly to remove the splinter from your brother's eye" (italics mine). It is very clear that Jesus does not forbid us to remove the metaphorical splinter from our brothers' eyes. In fact, He actually instructs us how to do so: by attending to our own failings first. Besides, it makes practical sense that our understanding of our own sinfulness should inform our judgment of others. Indeed, admonishing the sinner is considered by the Church to be one of the corporeal acts of mercy, since as a community of faith it is important that we thus help our fellow Christians on the journey. Certainly one of the best ways we learn about our own flaws is hearing them from family, friends, and even complete strangers (who all have a different and perhaps more accurate picture of us than we ourselves do). To lash out at well-meant judgment by throwing a bible verse in the offender's face or is prideful, juvenile and petty. If we are serious about our spiritual health, we will accept God's rebukes no matter how they come to us.

So I maintain that the article on gluttony was necessary and worthwhile. The evidence of my own eyes and that of numerous studies shows that we Americans are indeed gluttons. In the southern states, where obesity is most rampant, there is a lifestyle culture flourishing that centers around hearty American breakfasts, lots of fried food, and red meat dinners. Worse, to justify this appallingly unhealthy menu, the culture implies that such fare is "all-American" and therefore right. But the phenomenon is not limited to the south: fast food restaurants inundate every town and freeway stop in this country, peddling tasty french fries and mayonnaise-heavy sandwiches. Lately various national agencies have talked about legally blaming fast food companies for our country's obesity problem, but I find this ridiculous--it is nothing more or less than a denial of our own accountability in this matter. Walking into any restaurant does not obligate you to buy any of their food, least of all the unhealthy food. And I know that you can find healthy food most places you go. At McDonald's, for example, they offer grilled-chicken sandwiches and "snack wraps" right alongside their double cheeseburgers and fried chicken fingers. Similar options can be found at most other fast-food places. What I find damning, then, about our collective eating habits is our lack of temperance.

It is clear that we are not "forced" into our situation--instead, we have apparently decided, as a nation, that getting obese is either all right or unavoidable. What spiritual discipline could do for us! There are many ways to avoid unhealthiness. We could circumvent the fast-food restaurants altogether by buying healthy food at the supermarket and making our own lunches. Or we could actually drive past the fast food restaurants around us and find somewhere generally healthier to eat. Failing either of those options, we could simply forgo the fries and burgers at our local fast-food joint and eat whatever's healthiest on the menu. But any of these options requires sacrifice: sacrifice of time, sacrificing our hunger a little longer, and sacrificing our desire for the better-tasting fried food. All of this is a kind of fasting--a spiritual discipline modeled by John the Baptist (who subsisted on locusts and wild honey, c.f. Mark 1:6), designed to bring us closer to God.

Yet gluttony is a sin even if our external bodies are healthy. Having the metabolism to eat whatever you want is not, in the eyes of the Church, a license to do so. And if you work out several hours a day so you "don't have to worry about what you eat," you are simply augmenting the original gluttony with a new kind, excessive exercise (which is probably accompanied by the sin of vanity). Spending an inordinate amount of time or money on finding organic or vegan food in an attempt to eat healthy is also a type of gluttony. Essentially, whenever we excessively preoccupy ourselves with food, we commit this deadly sin.

Food is one of our most basic pleasures, and I believe we are meant to enjoy it. Jesus Christ Himself dined often in the scriptures at the houses of Pharisees and tax collectors, who probably had the best food available in Roman Judea. And though scripture tells us extremely little about the manner of his eating, from the phrase "recline at table" (Luke 7:36) implies a certain leisure and luxury. Yet scripture is also filled with occasions where Jesus fasts (e.g. Matthew 4:2) or goes off by himself to pray (e.g. Mark 7:46). The point is well-taken: Jesus balances his pleasures (like food and company) with physical and spiritual fasting--alone, perhaps in the wilderness, presumably in some discomfort. By following His lead and occasionally retreating "into the wilderness" or "off to the mountain" ourselves--by sacrificing some pleasure or another (like food)--not only allows us to "tame" that desire and prevent it from turning into gluttony, but also brings us closer spiritually to God--which is, for Christians, the entire point of our earthly lives.