Food, Glorious Food

A Cursed Fear of Food

You can tell a great deal about a culture from what it fears. The ancient Greeks feared excelling or achieving things that would attract the envious attention of the gods, who would then strike them down, in order to teach them a “lesson.” When things were going well, they would say, "Watch it, the gods may notice and then hell will break out."

Other cultures have been fearfully racked with various superstitions such as bad luck or evil charms, as when a black cat crosses one's path, or one walks under ladders. Still other cultures have such a defined ethical sense that they fear retribution for every wrong deed. Thus, Job's comforters: they reasoned that since Job had suffered retribution he must have done something wrong.

Generally, a society that lives in cultural fear is one which is far away from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. It should come as no surprise, then, that as modern culture increasingly militates against the Christ, fear would rise.

Fear of what, you ask. Of just about everything. Of course most modern Unbelievers no longer believe in superstitious idols, such as Zeus or Athena. Their unbelief is of an equally superstitious, but secular, materialistic kind: their god is man's autonomous Reason, knowing all, conquering all, determining all. So, guess what—suddenly, man's fear of man burgeons.

We have commented often on the current phobia of man-caused global warming—that is allegedly threatening the very existence of humanity. A short reading of climate blogs serves quickly to demonstrate that many people are experiencing an acute gnawing fear at the prospect of what they believe is a certain calamity to come.

But fear is not restricted to this in modern Athens. The NZ Herald's Canvas magazine recently carried an article on the growing phobia over food. People are afraid of food. Food is the staff of life: but now it is feared and hated. Surely the Scriptures speak truly when they say: “Those who hate Me, love death.” They imagine or conjure up eating disorders such as bulimia or anorexia; they are pathologically fearful about what they are eating; they live in the prison of constant dieting; healthy eating has become a monstrous tyrant.

Sarah Lang, in the Canvas article, comments: “Another dietary disturbance, coined 'orthorexia', denotes an unhealthy fixation on 'healthy' eating that can lead to social isolation, malnourishment and extreme weight loss.” A growing number of women describe being so fixated on the fear of food and of having an other-than-acceptable body shape that they confess to being unable to think about anything else except food, their bodies, and their particular eating regimes.

Another manifestation of the same phobic narcissism is food intolerance. People on every hand are now declaring themselves to be intolerant of foods, such as wheat or gluten. Intolerances are a hard thing to “get a handle on”, but internationally, best estimates are that genuine food intolerance affects about 5% of the population—but about 25% of people think they have a particular food intolerance.

Lang writes: “Among our modern-day concern with what we eat, have intolerances become a badge of honour? Nearly 40 per cent of 1500 British people polled in a survey by Yorktest thought it trendy to be (food) intolerant and many blamed celebrities. Of the 12 million who claimed to be intolerant, less than a quarter had had their condition formally diagnosed.” The proverb says, as a man thinks, so he is. Tell yourself (fearfully) that you are intolerant to foods, and you will end up finding that the thing you feared has come upon you.

Contrast this phobia over food in Athens with life under the Covenant. In the Scriptures, food and eating and drinking together repeatedly and constantly symbolised the essence of the Covenant relationship between God and His people. When the Lord established formal public worship amongst His people, it centred around rejoicing in the presence of God through eating together: the Lord rejoicing with us, and we with Him.

The activity to express this deepest of joys was feasting—eating and drinking in abundance. As Israel went up to Jerusalem three times a year during the great central feasts, they were commanded to save up so that they could spend up large at the feast. At the feast they were to “spend the money for whatever your heart desires, for oxen, or sheep, or wine, or strong drink, or whatever your heart desires; and there you shall eat in the presence of the Lord your God and rejoice, you and your household.” (Deuteronomy 14: 26)

When the Lord redeemed His people out of Egypt the deliverance was unto a land “flowing with milk and honey”—that is, a land abundant in food. The quantity and richness of the food was a proof or evidence of God's salvation, redemption, and love for His people. Not to eat richly and abundantly at the great religious feasts was to imply that God had not blessed and had not provided for His people. It would be an insult of ingratitude to Him.

Similarly, in the New Covenant, despite the fact that Jesus came bearing its curse—and therefore lived a life of deprivation and poverty, poorer than the foxes of the earth and the bird of the air—the Kingdom He established, and over which He now reigns, is one of richness, blessing and feasting. His desire and command is that He come amongst His people and eat with them. (Revelation 3: 20)

As one theologian said, with respect to redemption and the Kingdom: “It's all about food”—sitting down, eating and drinking together, rejoicing together, and enjoying the presence of one another and of our Lord.

Behind all this, of course, is the fact that when a people are in Christ, all nature, all creation, all circumstances of life are a manifestation of God's personal and abiding love to each one of us. Fear has no place in such a world. As it says, God has not given to us a Spirit of fear, but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind. (II Timothy 1:7)

Athenian culture is betrayed by what it fears. It increasingly fears the very staff of life itself. Jerusalem's culture is manifested through what it does not fear. Its banquet halls are bright with songs of triumphant joy.