Destination Discipline

I have a lot of questions for the universe.

Why do good friends betray confidences?

Road rage: why do people get so angry they will murder a stranger?

Is there apt justice for the wrongs done in this world?

Why does nature inspire awe one moment and terror the next?

Why is love so powerful?

Why do some things live and grow while others die?

Why do evil people escape consequences while innocent people are indicted and sent to prison?

Why are stars so beautiful?

The questions I ask the universe are the gnawing hunger pains of my soul. And, frankly, they demand an answer.

I recently stood in my front yard and stared at the sky as the sun was setting. I was trying to figure out which planet was the really bright one. It popped up first in the Western sky as the sun was going down. So, I did a little research and decided it was probably Venus.

Venus is about 25 million miles from earth, but it doesn’t feel that far away to me. It feels close. I can see a glimmer of it because the sun has scattered its rays through time to reach me here on earth.

The consistency of Venus stimulates my emotions to awe, but the truth of Venus existence is an objective fact. I can see it. We have Hubble Telescope images recorded of it. Its steady re-emergence on the horizon each evening reassures my faltering heart that there is order in the universe. That order inspires within me another kind of wonder that leads me to ask questions about truth.

Truth is absolutely essential to life. Without truth we cannot know what is. Truth is not subjective, it is objective. So, when I say the bible is God’s word breathed out for mankind to know the truth about reality, humanity and God’s relationship to both, I am stating an objective fact. Much the same as when I say Venus is a planet.

My experience of reading the bible is important. Many people criticize the bible but they’ve never actually read it. The Bible has an answer to all the questions I raise up to the universe. So, then the question for me becomes, is everything the Bible says true? And is the text reliable enough to be the template for my life?

Many people have invested their lives researching the truth and authority of the holy scriptures. This is not a blog about that. You can research that more here and here. My question is, if I know it’s true, how does it change the way I live now—today?

Living in submission to the authority of Holy Scripture

Now maybe you are thinking, how does conforming to a bunch of stuffy old rules inoculate me against the hungers of my soul?

I’ll start with the question, “Why is love so powerful?”

And I’ll counter with another, “Is life worth living without it?”

Imagine life without the love of a mother, a father, a brother, or a sister? Imagine all our relatives were emotionless automatons. No hugs. No affection. I really can’t imagine it. Even with all the ways people have loved me poorly, I can’t imagine life without love. And that doesn’t even begin to address the euphoria of romantic love and the joys of making a commitment to another human being to share one’s life with. What a delightful experience.

The bible says we were created to love. Love God. Love our fellow humans. Love the animals he created and the planet. We were made to love and enjoy these things, and in so doing bring God glory. Glory, because the things he made are so wonderful. But we violated that love. We chose instead to glorify ourselves. We thought we knew better than He—the creator of the universe. And its been downhill since then.

God created Venus and God created me. Which is more complex? God created me with a soul and the capacity for love. I live in submission to the authority of scripture when I live my life in such a way that I wholly love him back. When I love God, I won’t murder, or hold grudges or steal or lie or denigrate my parents.

The Bible says this is impossible because of sin. Sin corrupts everything.

Sin?! Are you sane?

Come on, Margaret. Is sin really a problem? I mean, is it even a thing? What’s the big deal? I don’t want to talk about sin because I don’t really think I’m a sinner. Or if I am, I’m not a really terrible one. You know, like my neighbor down the street who doesn’t cut his grass or clean up after his dog. That guy is the worst!

Opposition to the idea of sin is rife in our culture. We used to make light of it, now we simply pretend it doesn’t exist. We have entered an age where anything goes. Therefore, when I hold up the Bible as a guidebook for how to live life, people think I have a screw loose.

But I would like to suggest our world is an increasingly dark place because of sin. Lawlessness abounds. Murders. Tornadoes. Child sex trafficking. Tax fraud. The Bible says these things are the result of sin. And because God is just, there must be punishment for it.

If the Bible is true, I am a sinner. We all are. Whether we like it or not.

The truth about Truth

The reason I am so willing to live in submission to the authority of scripture is because of the great love God has for me. His great provision for sin is His Son, Jesus—who came to earth, lived a sinless life and was then punished FOR my sin on the cross. More importantly, God then raised him from death to life. The real-life testimonies of his disciples tell the stories about his life on earth and their accounts of his resurrection. He asks only that we believe He was who He said He was, ask for His forgiveness for our sin, and then take up our cross and follow Him. That means we must be willing to walk in the same way He walked—in the way of love. It’s much more difficult than it appears but it is wholly worth it. I would say it is the most satisfying experience in my life; obedience to the One who loves me is wonderful.

1 John 5:20- “And we know that the Son of God has come and has given us understanding, so that we may know him who is true; and we are in him who is true, in his Son Jesus Christ. He is the true God and eternal life.”

So, there you have it; that is the truth that sets us free from soul hunger. Today, if you are raising questions to the universe, instead, focus your questions to God. Open your ears, your heart and your soul. You may just find yourself supremely satisfied.

Inoculation at any cost?

So how do we inoculate against the deep hunger of our souls?

Inoculation presupposes we have a disease we are trying to build an immunity towards.

Which begs the question…is soul hunger a disease?

When I think about physical hunger and the sensations it produces, I wish there was a permanent cure. I wish this because hunger has become to me a curse of sorts. The reason for this is my abuse of the mechanism by which my body is nourished. The physical symptoms of hunger include shakiness, dizziness, pain in the stomach, lethargy, and foggy brain. Physical hunger by itself is not a bad thing. Hunger is a road sign that tells us how to refuel. If hunger persists too long, however, it is fatal.

What are the symptoms of soul hunger? And is it as deadly?

Symptoms could include, dissatisfaction with one’s place in life, a longing to be someone else, stress, anxiety, a longing for something intangible, an “itch” one can’t scratch, or a longing for meaning and purpose. These symptoms manifest in myriads of dark ways: depression, suicide, addiction, envy, job hopping, theft, gambling, etc. While some of us resist the darker impulses and simmer quietly with unnamed dissatisfactions, the deeper problem—need I say disease—remains. We cry out for immunity with impunity. (or is that just me?)

What is the inoculation for the hungers of soul?

Mindfulness?

A friend stopped me in the cafeteria at work to tell me she was finding peace via mindfulness through meditation. She spends 10 minutes each morning quieting her mind and then repeating positive affirmations. This helps her to be more intentional every day. This idea of “mindfulness” is gaining traction in American culture but is not new. It stems from Buddhist teaching. Is Buddhism an effective form of inoculation?

Consumerism?

If my Facebook feed is any indication of the preoccupation of our culture with acquiring goods, the philosophy of consumerism is prospering. We want bigger and shinier stuff, more extravagant vacations, and to live in better zip codes. If we can’t afford these things, we get a credit card. If our credit cards get cancelled, we steal from our neighbor. And while most of us won’t admit we have a stealing problem, everybody has things stolen from them. That is why we lock the doors of our houses when we leave. Consumerism is based on the idea that the acquisition of things will make us happy. Is consumerism an effective inoculation?

Escapism?

Why bother about the disease when you can simply pretend it doesn’t exist? Movies and television provide the perfect means of distracting us from our sickness. But they aren’t the only modes of fantasy. There are more methods of escapism than I can list but here are a few: personal athleticism, sports, war reenactment, and fashion obsession. Basically, anything that distracts one from reality. Will escapism inoculate me?

Religion

Religion purports to give us a set of rules to keep that make us “good”. These rules include the “Golden Rule”, the ten commandments, or a creed or set of words to recite. I feel like I’m overgeneralizing here, but the main idea of this type of religion is that if one does good things as deemed by their sect of choice, they can earn their way into God’s favor and—by default—Heaven. This works-based philosophy encourages adherents to be as good as they possibly can be, so they tip the scales in their favor and make God or a set of gods happy. Is religion an effective inoculation?

Conclusion

All of these approaches to soul hunger are dependent on the self. The self looks within the self for hope. That doesn’t feel very safe to me. It doesn’t feel good because when I look inside myself, no matter how much I try to be good or try to clear my mind, I know I am still rotten and wretched at hungry at heart. I may pretend otherwise but I know the truth.

Obviously, I am not a philosopher. I am a mere layman who is trying to point out that soul hunger does indeed exist and cannot be fixed by looking inside me. I also believe this is a disease we are all trying to find strategies to deal with or overcome.

Truth

I would like to propose Truth as the inoculation we seek. Why is truth important? Because lies are abominable.

What person would marry someone knowing that person was lying about their intention to be a faithful spouse?

What bank would give us a loan if they knew we had no intention of paying it back?

What company would hire us to work for them if they knew we only intended to loaf around?

What contractor would we hire who has a history of defrauding his clients?

Truth matters.

And not just the truth we want to believe, but objective truth.

Because while truth is generally free, pursuing it comes with a cost. Opposition to truth abounds.

So the real question becomes, Am I willing to pursue inoculation at any cost?

Which inevitably leads me back to the beginning. How hungry is my soul?

I am very hungry. The fact is, I am starving to death.

Next time… The truth that sets me free from Soul Hunger

The grackles are fighting over the suet again. They grapple and chatter with a ferocious clamor. There is nothing polite about their greed. Will one wait while another takes a bite? No. They would rather stab each other with their sharp beaks than patiently wait. So they screech and banter, until they break the feeder. Again.

I’ve gotten used to putting things broken things back together but that doesn’t mean I like it. I suppose my aversion to brokenness as a concept drives me to buy things that are more durable. Some years ago I bought a Saddleback leather bag simply for the reason that it had a lifetime warranty. The company promised to fix the bag for free should anything break on it. And they were true to their word. When a piece of metal hardware broke, I shipped it back–at their expense–and they replaced it and mailed it back with sincere apologies. That kind of customer service is rare these days and I cherish it.

A bag is one thing. A car is another. I place entirely too much security on my means of transportation. Maybe this is because my vehicle is one facet of my identity. While some people revel in the newness or the coolness of their machine-on-wheels, I am rather proud of the antiquity of mine. And by antiquity I mean–it ain’t new and it ain’t cool. I drive a 2002 Chevy Malibu. Or, as a friend at work referred to it, a Barbie car. The reason I love it is because it is cheap and reliable. But when it wobbles, or gives off strange odors, or ticks like a clock, I get nervous.

This exposes my vulnerability–my dependency on it. For some reason, when there is a strange smell I jump to the “logical conclusion” that my car is getting ready to explode. My husband tries to reason with me that this will surely not happen, but I’ve seen enough television to know that when a strange smell emits, and when oil starts to leak out of the bottom of the car–fire and a great big boom are only a few seconds away.

Broken things and hunger feel synonymous to me. I disdain the broken-nature of the world we live in and I am frustrated that no matter how much I eat, I get hungry again.

I read an article recently that said there is no such thing as “food addiction”. The psychological dependence on food as a source of comfort would be better described as “disordered eating”. If that is the case, I am the Picasso of hunger. Even if I fill up for a moment, I only want more. Where is my “warranty” against hunger?

But let’s be honest, sometimes I steady myself with a giant plate of green beans and say, “I can eat this until I’m full and then I will be satisfied.” It never happens. Food does not satisfy me. Maybe this is the particular curse I will endure forever; to be physically hungry and to never be filled. I am like the grackle’s fighting over a morsel of food with an insatiable greed.

Where is my hope?

The ten year anniversary of my decision to live a healthy lifestyle looms (May 10th). I have largely maintained my 140 pound weight loss with diet and exercise. It still feels like a miracle. I have pursued healthy habits, built in safety mechanisms, and learned how to exercise to burn off excess calories. But the hunger remains. Maybe the most important thing I have learned is: hunger is necessary to stave off excess fat. But I hate it. It feels wrong.

This brings me full circle to the thought patterns I had when I first began this journey. At 310 pounds I recognized that food did not satisfy the hunger. My drug of choice numbed the pain but did not heal the wound.

I needed to discover what was driving the hunger. I eventually learned the hunger did not start in my stomach but in my soul. The diagnosis was important because without it, I could not search for a cure.

Simone Weil describes the danger of not recognizing this soul hunger.

“The soul knows for certain only that it is hungry. The important thing is that it announces its hunger by crying. A child does not stop crying if we suggest to it that perhaps there is no bread. It goes on crying just the same.

The danger is not lest the soul should doubt whether there is any bread, but lest, by a lie, it should persuade itself that it is not hungry. It can only persuade itself of this by lying, for the reality of its hunger is not a belief, it is a certainty.”

Obesity was the result of the lie I said to my soul; food will satisfy my me. My estimation is that all soul-destroying addiction (cigarettes, alcohol, sex, anorexia, etc.) stems from this lie. To lie to ones self seems particularly heinous, but we all do it. In my estimation, the only way to stop the lie is to recognize our true hunger and look outside ourselves for true soul food.

The grackles are fighting over the suet again. Their brokenness reminds me of my own. Do they know there is a cure? Do I? But is it worth the price?

Next time: Inoculation at any cost