" Remember the good things which God has deposited in your hearts during this trip. When you return, remember: always be humble enough to hunger for God- don't be a spiritual anorexic. And when you are filled, share your joy and love with others to avoid gorging yourselves- don't be a spiritual bulimic, wasting all that you've been fed with."
What an apt metaphor, I thought. All the more so for me as I understood what he meant on a dimension few others would know.
Hunger- the common denominator of humanity. Food- the common commodity for fellowship. Fullness- the common goal of our feasting, throughout our lifespan.
All through our lives, we hunger and eat. We become full, and yet, hunger again later, after which we eat. More than we could care to admit, we spend a large portion of our lives at the table of feasting, dreaming, preparing and consuming food in an endless cycle, one day after the next.
But not everyone approaches the feasting Table in the same way.
At the table of feasting, he who is gluttonous ravages through the courses like a savage man and yet, is never filled- his appetite is insatiable; while she who is anorexic looks at the spread before her, famished, and yet finds herself unable to eat- she has lost her appetite.
The table is lavishly set before them, with turkey and ham, capers and salmon, foie gras, fudge cake and fig pudding... Both have come to the table of feasting, which should be filled with gourmet food, fine wine and merry music, mirth, dance and good conversation, but the meal ruins them both, at once, as while one becomes acutely aware of his shameful, insatiable lusts, the other discovers her indifference to life and her pitiful resignation.
Who are we, gluttons or gaunt. And does it matter anyway, since most of us eat or starve ourselves ill anyway.
One feasts, but still hungers, lusts for more. One pines, yearns, but never quite understands how to have her fill.
It made me think- There is a God-shaped hunger within all of us, gnawing us to the bone, everyday. Just like daily meals, life itself provides us with daily reminders multiple times a day of our aches and longings within. At the buffet table, we stuff ourselves with work, fill our days with appointments and emails and text messages, satisfy our yearnings with short-term relationships... or watch the world go by as we stand at the peripheries, dead because we no longer know how to live. Even some of us with religious pursuits, who see God as nothing more than a stern headmaster or harsh parent, come to the table with frightening voracity- not for Him, but for food that never quite fills.
Both extremes scare me- he who works, clubs, drinks, lusts, and hedonises with a vengeance, and she who reads, fasts, philosophises, thinks and ponders too much. Both attempt to search out the meaning of life. Both just want a taste of what it means to be fulfilled. Yet, both come to the table of feasting, and leave, hungry, still.
What is it that we want. What is it that we can and cannot have.
I remember how it was like when I had Anorexia. Had, not have. My body was always hungry, but I never confessed it. I willed it away, and hunger had no voice. I was so hungry I was filled with it, to the point of losing my appetite- for food and for life. I was full all the time, not with nourishment but pride, control and hurt.
Are there areas of our lives we need nourishment and love in, but we reject the goodwill of others because it takes humility to receive, humility to admit Hunger?
Until we acknowledge this hole within us and admit our helplessness, seek it out, we will forever be unfulfilled before the banquet table of Life. Many have argued how some people with no particular faith or belief in life live perfectly fulfilled existences- they argue it is proof to live without God, that He does not exist beyond our imagination. I once asked a friend why it seemed possible, why it was so ironic that my God-shaped hole, my discovery of my helplessness and weaknesses became grossly apparent only after I discovered God in my life.
"Ah," she said. " It is not God who is responsible for suddenly burning a hole within you. Rather, it is your new life in Him, your transformation, which has merely made you more aware of His importance in your life. You had the same, if not bigger holes in the past, but you merely filled them continuously with work, and friends and hobbies and volunteer activities, that's all. These things aren't wrong, but only God fills that deeper hole within us which nothing else can fill." The deeper hole of questions- about life's purposes, our existence, our eternal dwelling.
This weekend was the first time I had my favourite Indian food with daddy in Little India, since Recovery. Tongue-bashing spices and wholesome chappatis, paper-thin dosas and rich, gooey curries, deepfried cauliflower and tangy sauces, savoured amidst thumping Bhangra music in the background, with the smell of Nepal in the air. I had my fill, and it was good. A good meal consists of hunger being filled. Tis one of the greatest, simplest pleasures on earth- to have hunger filled.
That one moment of fulfillment, when the hunger crosses its threshold and breaks into satisfaction is a glorious moment to behold and savour. Yet, becoming hungry again and having this entire cycle of hunger, nourishment and fulfillment all over, again and again, is one of the reasons we go on living.
And so perhaps, while being full is God's Mercy upon us- that of witholding what we deserve- the eternal damnation of hunger and famine, our inevitable hunger which follows may then be His Grace- that of giving us what we do not deserve.
Living further from Ed has been immensely liberating. My hunger comes to me and I listen attentively to it, feeding my body what is needed, no less, and not too much more lest it become surfeit. Similarly, do we listen to what our hearts truly long for and feed it true nourishment? Do we suppress it like emotional and spiritual anorexics, hardening ourselves with god-bashing theories and cool indifference, or have we become so used to ignoring our hunger pangs that we binge on trash- entertainment, thrill-seeking fun, incessant work?
At the feasting table of Life, do we find ourselves nourished or starved, built up or destroyed?
I come now to a Banquet and find my tummy a little rumbly, but I am relieved, thankful. For while I have the privilege of knowing hunger, I never actually go hungry, for I am filled quickly. God dines with me and serves me what I long for. I haven't had a drink for a long time, so I ask for a cup of water to quench my thirst, but I have not actually gone thirsty. It is hunger without starvation, thirst without dehydration- so I may have His grace of knowing fulfillment, and yet never actually falling ill.
So I find myself hungry now for something different, something worthwhile, and I spend more and more time at the Table. My meal is done, but I enjoy His company and so linger on. Like my own daddy, he lets me order what I crave, foots the bill, and never ever rushes me. We enjoy our quality time together, and I am nourished indefinitely by His presence.
Tis one of the greatest, simplest luxuries of life. To have hunger, and to have it filled.
Over and over, this cycle is God's divine Grace unto us. But we must first be humble enough to admit Hunger before we may be filled.
Hunger, the right kind of hunger, filled by the right kind of nourishment brings continual fulfillment. I find myself at the Feasting Table, feasting on food that truly satisfies and I am happy.
Thank you God for my food on my plate today. It makes me so happy. And now, I finally understand why the prayer some people say before meals is called...
... Grace.
"I am the bread of life.
He who comes to me will never go hungry, and he who believes in me will never be thirsty."
-John 6:48
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