Eating to Live
Reflecting on the universal relevance of Christ
California buckwheat (Eriogonum fasciculatum) on a recent walk in the South Hills Preserve in Loma Linda.
I was listening to a hunting/culinary podcast recently and the host shared that when he was younger and on a first date, he would often ask his date “What is your favorite meal with chicken?” If his date’s reply included any sort of boneless, skinless chicken, the host would plan on that date being his last with the person, as “They obviously hated food if their go-to was boneless, skinless chicken. In their world, they ate to live whereas I live to eat.”
Uninformed cook that I am, the intensity of the host’s response caught me off guard. I puzzled over the disparity between his philosophy of life and that of the Haitian child whom Paul Farmer recounts in his biography Mountains Beyond Mountains who cries during a lumbar puncture, not because of pain but because she is hungry.
The “buoyancy” of a personal philosophy amidst a life’s storms has been on my mind lately. I recently finished a very difficult rotation, the same rotation that led to my leave of absence last year after losing weight, nightly insomnia and daily vomiting. Thankfully I “weathered the storm” much better this year but was haunted by the memories of last year and again had to remind myself to eat, drink water and take bathroom breaks. Amidst all this I was acutely aware of the powerlessness of typical distractions or interests to carry me through the day. Though brutal, the month reminded me of my utter dependence on Christ which seemed the only way to get through another day.
When I am comfortable, I tend to extend the term “essential” to things that are not and even prioritize those things over those few things that truly are essential. I see this most often with my faith. When my life is easy, I tend to reflect the host of that podcast, prioritizing values which truly are not priorities. Suffering (however minor mine is in the grand scheme of things) turns my eyes toward Christ because it reveals the relative ineffectiveness of other loves (for example hobbies or a dark roasted coffee) in getting my soul through the day.
A system of belief must perform equally well in adversity as in comfort to be worth having. And actually, I get the sense that we should focus our attention on those beliefs or loves that are most relevant amidst pain and suffering. I love Jesus and believe his message for many reasons, but one of them is the special relevance he has for those who suffer. I am reminded specifically of Christ’s Beatitudes from the gospel of Matthew 5:2-12 (English Standard Version).
1Seeing the crowds, he went up on the mountain, and when he sat down, his disciples came to him.
2 And he opened his mouth and taught them, saying:
3 “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
4 “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.
5 “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.
6 “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.
7 “Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.
8 “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.
9 “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God.
10 “Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
11 “Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account.
12 Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you.
Looking at verse 3, the word “poor” comes from the Greek πτωχός (ptōchos) which literally means “reduced to beggary” or “forced to crouch.” From the STEP Study Bible: “‘The poor in spirit’ are not lacking in spirit, but have the positive moral quality of humility, realizing they have nothing to offer God but are in need of his free gifts.” Jesus is speaking to the impoverished and downcast and here states that contrary to intuition, those who are aware of their brokenness are one step closer to him.
The Christianity of Jesus is not convenient faith for the comfortable but a salve for the broken, a theological orientation and understanding of life that is equally true in hardship as in fortune. In fact, Christianity is best understood when we are painfully aware of our own spiritual poverty. At times I wonder if Christianity is a bit like that boneless, skinless chicken in that it appeals primarily to those aware of their need. Perhaps it has less appeal for the epicurean for whom food is not primarily a means of sustenance but an appeal to a “refined palate.” Jesus never advertised the Kingdom as a sophisticated dish for the well-fed but as meat and potatoes for the starving.
Central to Christ’s message is the idea that each of us is starving. Christ says the same to the person who truly does prefer the richness of bone-in chicken with skin intact and the emaciated: Each of you needs nourishment and this has nothing to do with physical needs. You are spiritually starving and I alone can offer you the bread of life.
In the Beatitudes Jesus does not offer immediate relief to the suffering of the afflicted (though he does elsewhere.) Instead, it is almost as if he acknowledges the suffering, encourages the sufferer to acknowledge it as well and then elevates the sufferer from their position as a beggar to one highly esteemed in the Kingdom of God. I will not pretend to understand this. Why is suffering a part of life or used by God for good? Wouldn’t it just be better to completely remove suffering from the world? Jesus does not offer any easy answers.
I do wonder though if the Beatitudes are not just about a person’s standing in the Kingdom of God but also God’s response to our suffering. I leave that passage with the sense that somehow God is even closer to me when I am in pain. The account of Jesus’ life leaves me with that impression as well. In the form of Jesus, God opted to join humanity and partake in all its suffering and ultimately die for the sake of humanity. I can see the suffering of Jesus most clearly at the end of his life when he is hanging on the cross as reported in the gospel of Matthew:
Matthew 27:45-50, ESV
45Now from the sixth hour there was darkness over all the land until the ninth hour. 46And about the ninth hour Jesus cried out with a loud voice, saying, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” that is, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” 47And some of the bystanders, hearing it, said, “This man is calling Elijah.” 48And one of them at once ran and took a sponge, filled it with sour wine, and put it on a reed and gave it to him to drink. 49But the others said, “Wait, let us see whether Elijah will come to save him.” 50And Jesus cried out again with a loud voice and yielded up his spirit.
Jesus felt abandoned by God in his hour of greatest suffering. Yet he came to earth to die and then rise again, volunteering to shoulder the suffering of the world alongside each of us.
When I come to Jesus through prayer, I sense that he is the only refuge from my suffering. And even Jesus provides no easy answer. Yet he is with me even in the darkness and when I feel my soul has nothing more to give. There have been times when I felt myself little more than a huddled figure in the dark corner of a prison cell, dressed in rags. Yet when I cried out to God, I could make out a figure making his way toward me holding a single lighted candle. When Christ reached my cell, he did not always open the door for me. But he walked into the cell and sat on the cold, wet stone next to me, sharing the light and warmth of that candle and giving me a little bread and water. Though I may remain in that cell, I am not alone.
I am so thankful my October is over. But I also thank God for months like October because they bring Christ to the fore like little else can. I would like to end with a quote from Gulag Archipelago by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn which I actually ran across in Beyond the Second Mountain by David Brooks. Gulag Archipelago is definitely on my reading list.
Bless you prison, bless you for being in my life. For there, lying upon the rotting prison straw, I came to realize that the object of life is not prosperity as we are made to believe, but the maturity of the human soul.
Jesus I Have my Doubts by Jon Foreman of Switchfoot has been an anthem during my darkest times. The link will take you to a YouTube video of the song.
