I recently read a series of articles about saturated fats (the kind found in red meats and dairy products).
The studies’ authors dispute the popular conviction that such fats cause heart disease, suggesting that sugars and carbohydrates are more blameworthy. So… bacon and eggs might be a healthier breakfast than sweetened oatmeal porridge? Don’t tell my husband.
After my October visit to the cardiologist, I had been doing a lot of reading on the topics of diet, nutrition and disease. Naturally, I sought out ‘reliable’ sources, but nevertheless continued to encounter contradictory advice.
My scepticism threshold having been breached, I foreswore my food paranoia and decided to quit reading research articles. I’m going back to great-grandpa’s advice: everything in moderation.
Science (or what passes for it these days) isn’t just big business; it’s become, ironically, a quasi religion – with nearly the same number of denominations.
Post-modern man regards all things scientific with a level of reverence that approaches superstition and idolatry.
We parody cavemen venerating fire or large stones, but react in much the same way to the latest climate change report or study on trans-fats.
No matter which theory you espouse, you can find some science to support it. Next week, a new study will purport to disprove what you hold dear, but no matter: our faith in Doctor A or Clinical Trial Team B stands firm.
Now when I see the phrase “Research shows…”, I take it with a grain of salt (a single grain won’t cause hypertension; besides, Jesus endorses the stuff).
Every month or so, research reveals a new food theory or culprit that is sure to kill us, or a new food saviour that will prevent/cure our ailments and make us thin and happy forever.
Until we die, which we all will. Only God knows when, and (all things being equal) what we eat probably won’t have much effect upon that day and hour. (How much we eat, yes, but that’s another kettle of fish, with or without Omega 3.)
Of course, we must strive for good health, but pursuing it to the point of obsession is a form of idolatry. Many of us pay more attention to our daily calorie count or fat gram intake than we do to our nightly examination of conscience.
We put more emphasis on colon cleansing than we do on getting to confession on a regular basis. When we fast, it’s to flush out toxins, not to purge our souls of disordered appetites.
Many think eating meat is immoral; gossip or fornication, not so much. As it says in the Holy Scriptures, “Zeal for my diet consumes me”. Oh wait…
In the west, food obsession has spawned quasi-political movements and numerous multi-million dollar industries.
Much is at stake when theories are advanced: bragging/publishing rights, fame and money.
Whose research will be funded by the government (or industry)? Who will appear on the cover of Time magazine? Who (O Holy Grail) will be invited to appear on Oprah?
As for the rest of us (consumers or consumed?), it’s not just the ‘unbelievers’ who are running after these things. Christians (including religious and clergy) suffer the same rates of obesity as the general population.
I know few women (myself included) who have not spent the majority of their adult lives inordinately preoccupied with losing weight. I won’t even touch the time we devote to food and cooking blogs and television shows.
I’ve known otherwise pious souls who get very defensive of, or evangelistic about, their favourite diets or food theories – some even use terms like ‘mission’ or ‘crusade’ to describe their fervour for spreading the word.
When I write about food or dieting and mention the G-word (gluttony), I upset people, even Christian folk, which should give us food for thought. It’s the Deadly Sin in search of a downgrade.
I know all about the various big food conspiracies. (They even control the government, which is why you can’t trust recommendations from Health Ministry Food Guides.)
I concur that the State should stay out of my pantry, not because of lobbies, but because government mismanages practically everything else.
A century ago, bureaucrats did not tell the citizenry what to eat, and there was far less disease and obesity.
Coincidentally (or not), there was also more commonsense, prayer, physical exercise, homegrown food, and a general belief that overindulgence was as bad for you as over-dependence on so-called experts.
It turns out there is a conspiracy to enslave mankind; its name is “Legion”.
Food obsession surely pleases the Father of Lies, for it keeps us gazing at our grocery carts, televisions, dinner plates and waistlines, and takes our focus away from others (especially the hungry) and away from our souls and eternal salvation.
Perhaps we should fear sin more than particular foods (all of which the Lord declared clean).
Perhaps Jesus isn’t merely the Saviour of mankind; maybe he’s also a trustworthy diet and lifestyle guru – which, alas, might give him more credibility among many post-modern western Catholics.
Let us read the Signs of the Times. We have a greater than Atkins here.