In the same way, the tongue is a small part of the body, but it boasts of great things. The tongue also is a fire, a world of wickedness among the parts of the body. It pollutes the whole person, sets the course of his life on fire, and is itself set on fire by hell.
James 3:6
Solving my personal issues with weight and food has come down to getting radically honest with myself about why I choose to eat. If you recall from my last post on the flesh, I became a Loki-esque expert at sneaking food. But of course in the end, I realized that the only person I have ever really fooled is myself. Talk is cheap. It is also deadly in some instances. As a counsellor I have learned to track two things in people: what they say and what they do. Knowing what my clients say gives me good insight into how they think, and importantly, the stories they tell themselves. I also observe their actions over time. Do those line up? Is there a discrepancy? Sometimes, I have found that clients act in an entirely different way than their narrative would suggest. It is not that they consciously aim to deceive me. I believe that in most cases they simply cannot tolerate a world where the unthinkable is true, so their tongues speak a new world into existence that they can tolerate.
I once received running advice from a man who weighs 500 pounds. He spoke to me in an all-knowing way as he explained what I needed to do. I have known him for 25 years, and all of that time he has struggled at that size. He often speaks with authority about diets and exercise. I don’t doubt that he has an encyclopedic knowledge on the topics of diet and fitness. What he lacks, however, is self-knowledge. Whenever we interact, his tongue spins a narrative that his body is screaming against. In fact, I have often said that a morbidly obese body is a visual depiction of screaming, crisis-stricken soul. The body often speaks a message that refutes the boasting of the tongue.
I hope that you do not hear judgment in my voice. On each point, I can truthfully declare that I am “the worst of sinners”. The gift of these insights have come at a high cost: the price paid is my own guilty experience. I am (at least somewhat) aware of the great boasts my tongue makes that have absolutely no corresponding actions to back those words up.
This brings us to why I eat the way I do. The way I eat ignores the tongue. Everything I eat gets weighed and measured. Everything. If you do not see me weigh it before I eat it, be afraid for me (there are some exceptions- an egg is an egg, a piece of fruit is just that- I don’t typically weigh those). In light of the call of the flesh, my entire success hangs on a dedication to absolute honesty. And I do not rely on my tongue to ensure that I am objective.
This morning I packed my lunch for the day. I measured exactly 6 ounces of veggies. Not 6.1 or 5.9 ounces. Six ounces. Why? Because I know that if I had measured 5.9 ounces, when tempted later in the day my flesh will tell me “Sean, you actually have a little extra room in your allotted portion of food for today. You should eat that ______.” Does it really matter to my weight loss success if I consume an extra 0.1 ounce of a carrot? Not at all and completely yes. The calories do not matter, but the lie will completely unravel me. Maybe not today, but over time my tongue will sink the ship.
It works the other way too. Even a slight “mistake” or indulgence where I go over my pre-prescribed amount of food immediately floods my mind with new deceptive temptations. “I’ve already thrown it out today. I might as well just eat what I want for the rest of the day and start again tomorrow.” Lie!
This is also why I currently do not exercise (yet). Is exercise a good and even crucial practice? Absolutely. No doubt about it. Yet if I am optimized for preventing self-deception, then exercise introduces an ambiguous element into the system. “So how many calories did we really burn, anyway? We ran for 30 minutes, I am sure we can eat that bagel.” I know from experience that the pull of the flesh is so strong in me that my tongue will find a reason to make an exception to my very black and white food plan. So for now, exercise is out.
Deviating from my deliberately planned system of eating turns me into Gollum almost instantly. Except instead of my mind being twisted and obsessed by a magic ring, it is twisted and obsessed by hyper-palatable foods. Do I wish it was different? Of course. I often echo the words of Paul “Why did you make me as I am?” (Romans 9). Yet I am reminded of God’s response: Am I not the Potter? Do I not have the right to form you as I choose? And He is always right. He has allowed me to struggle this way- perhaps to the end of my life- for His divine purpose.
Here is the beauty in adopting a simple, all-or-nothing food plan and optimizing for total truth: it brings a transcendent sense of peace. It is a burden lifted to surrender to a simple way of eating. It feels good to eat with integrity, to honour self-promises, and to lay down the burden of constant rumination about food.
James goes on to say that rather than being subject to our tongues we should demonstrate wisdom and understanding through good and humble conduct. Our actions speak far louder than our tongue ever could. And the good news is this: when we do that we can have true peace.
Peacemakers who sow in peace reap the fruit of righteousness.
James 3:18