Analysis – Gluttony & Lust

Gluttony

For most of my life, I have spent my summertime Wednesday mornings playing board games with my grandparents and other senior citizens at their church. Every Wednesday, we’ll play various games until around noon, at which time everyone will pull tables together to form a large buffet laden with foods prepared by the people playing games. My grandparents always contributed a few dishes and my grandpa would spend most of the morning in the church kitchen, hand-making dozens and dozens of rolls for lunchtime.

I remember the Wednesday mornings vividly. My grandparents enjoyed my company and the food was generally good. One Wednesday sticks out in my mind for a different reason than others; I always saw one man contribute a single can of peaches to the buffet. However, when he went through the line, he would pile his plate with as much food as he could manage. I would watch him make multiple trips through the line, each time getting as much food as the previous trip. This particular Wednesday, my grandpa must have seen me watching the man because he pointed at the man and said “That’s what you call a glutton.”

Judgmental or not, my grandpa was correct. Gluttony, according to DeYoung, is a habit that gets worn into a person’s character. This man unfailingly showed up, dropped off his can of peaches and then eagerly waited for his turn in line. DeYoung notes that the amount of food eaten isn’t necessarily the issue. Instead, the issue is whether or not eating has become a ‘pleasure fix’ that dominates a person’s life (DeYoung 141). I cannot say for certain whether or not eating dominated this man’s life, but from reflecting on the matter, I know that he rarely spoke with other people, especially during lunch, and I remember that he often went off to sit by himself during the event. Did he attend the event to satisfy his craving for food? I cannot definitively say, but his interactions with others hint that his could be the case.

If it is the case, I pity the man. The entire point of the event was fellowship with other senior citizens. It was a social event for people that would otherwise have little social interaction. This man ignored that entire aspect of the event; he chose to distance himself from others and spend his time shoveling down extraordinary amounts of food. This is the vice; choosing the pleasure gained from food over more important things, like friends and fellowship. I can’t imagine that the food offered long-term satisfaction – after all, he was there every week seeking more – and I wonder if he could have found satisfaction in the company of other people if he had focused on them instead of food. Again, the issue is not the amount of food he consumed, but how he allowed the pleasure from eating to overshadow more worthwhile pursuits and prevent him from socializing with other people: food simply became more important to him than people.

Lust

DeYoung opens the chapter on lust by examining why sex seems to be an uncomfortable subject in both the religious and secular world. Both sides send mixed messages when speaking of love or sex. God created humans with the capability to engage and take pleasure in sexual activity, but the church utterly condemns anything related to the topic and generally leaves adolescents confused and ill-prepared to combat the vice of lust. Conversely, secular culture seems to think that sex is primarily for pleasure, but people that regularly engage in sexual activities are shamed if their ‘dirty little secrets’ are exposed. Neither side seems to openly offer a complete view of the subject and that leaves people feeling insecure, uncomfortable and unprepared for the difficulties posed by lust.

Lust parallels gluttony, but the focus is on a different subject. The glutton becomes unable to appreciate or be satisfied by food and the lustful person becomes unable to appreciate sex in the way that God intended. The lustful person only gets a shallow, corrupt view of sex from sources like one-night stands or pornography. Instead of the intimate, devoted union that God intended for lovers to share, the lustful person just picks their clothes up off the floor in the morning and walks home.

It is interesting to think that acting on lust is a vice of weakness, not a sin of intention. This is how Aquinas views lust; he thinks that people act on lust when they are caught in the moment and unable to stop themselves (DeYoung 162). However, this seems like a bit of a cop-out. Sure, I agree that people can get caught in the moment, but this view doesn’t account for the overwhelming numbers of people that regularly act on their desires and have made lust a casual habit. Habitual occurrence certainly seems like intention, doesn’t it? Perhaps it started by giving into weakness, but then became a habit? Obviously, the answer depends entirely on the individual, but I think that it is hard to attribute lust entirely to weakness.

Lust is poorly handled by the church. Years of Sunday school have informed me that sex is bad and a major “no-no.” Abstinence is the only option until marriage and – to use a bit of hyperbole – any other sort of sexual action will land you in Hell. Such an absolute and unforgiving stance seems incredibly severe and doesn’t seem to account for God’s infinite grace. How small are we, as Christians, making God if we claim that He cannot forgive a particular sin? Further, consider the message that this sends to young people in the church. Imagine being a teenager that fell into temptation and already feels guilty about their actions, then hearing how absolutely terrible lust is, how much God condemns pre-marital relations and how people that engage in such actions have their hearts and minds in the wrong place. It could be extremely disheartening and drive people away from church forever, all because they were made to believe that they had committed some unforgiveable sin. Why preach the fire-and-brimstone message instead of the loving nature of God? Lust – and acting on lust – is a sin, but God can forgive any sin and I think the church loses sight of that fact more often than not.