One of the glories of
summer finally reached my plate: fresh corn on the cob. Steaming from the pot and gleaming gold, it
was beautiful to watch the butter melt into the crevices between the kernels,
and the salt crystals sparkle before they too disappeared into all that fresh
tasty goodness. Of course it required a sheet
of paper towels to eat, as no napkin could absorb all the grease and corn shrapnel
from my hands and face. Joy!
Then I felt
guilty. I was trying to have a simple,
light, healthy supper; you know: fresh vegetables and all that. The corn had caught my eye while I was
shopping and seemed to fit right in to the plan. But then all that butter! Salt even.
What happened to healthy?
Perhaps you’ve had
the same experience. Summer brings with
its glories many pitfalls: cookouts with
their mountains of meat; vacations when we let ourselves depart from our
disciplines; ice cream because how could you not; and the best thing God ever
inspired us to do with all this ripe summer fruit, pie. We wind up rubbing our bellies and scratching
our heads, wondering how could we let ourselves DO that? In fact, I would not be surprised if the most
recent time you felt guilty, it was because of something you ate.
Doesn’t that strike you
as odd? Why is it so common for us to
associate guilt with food? I cannot imagine that our forebears would
have recognized the association we make so often and so readily. Eating always has been a necessity, and only very
rarely and for very few did it involve any luxury. One ate what one could lay hold of, and thereby
survived. But things have changed.
In our time and under
some circumstances, overindulgence is nearly impossible to avoid, but excess is
only one there is another dimension. “Forbidden fruit” has been supplanted by
forbidden fat, or carbs, or gluten, or…whatever our dietary bugbear happens to
be. All of these accrue to the general
goal of health, and our responsibility to maintain it. There can also be a focus on our appearance;
perhaps a goal less lofty, but not without credit.
New dimensions have
accrued to the modern ‘food conscience” that go beyond avoiding gluttony and
staying healthy. Fair trade, locally
sourced, sustainable, organic, free range, hormone free, and other labels
advocate that these food choices would be “better.” Moreover, some vegetarians, pescatarians, vegans,
and other –tarians are not satisfied merely to constrain their own eating, but also
expect others willingly to provide for them at the common table or festive
occasions according to their constraints.
I doubt there is anyone in the parish who has not yet at least once had
to solve the logistical challenges this poses.
Far from being abashed by this imposition, some even proselytize, with a
conviction that such eating habits and restrictions obtain moral elevation, even
obligation.
How far man has come
from hunting, gathering, and subsisting!
But is it all progress, and if so, in what? At one time it was simple to see that if one
ate more, then another must settle for less; now the social implications of
food are much more complex, and continue to be revealed. Similarly, discerning what is healthful is
more complicated as food production and distribution become more
developed. While the costs of food
particularity are well disguised in our time and place, it is nevertheless clear
that a healthy diet is a mark of affluence, and obesity a common mark of
poverty.
Advertisers,
celebrities, our own dinner guests, and even strangers in public places feel
free to admonish us about what we should and should not eat, and why. There
is clearly a moral dimension to food, beyond simple self-discipline in pursuit
of health and avoidance of excess. But why
has this one moral question become so prominent, and so public?
Could guilt over salty
buttered corn possibly be a distraction from something more pressing?
Monsignor Smith
