We are living in perilous times. The few weeks between Thanksgiving and New Year’s Day are filled with danger. More fires occur in homes during this period than at any other time of the year. More people travel on the highways, increasing the accident totals proportionately. And more people gain unneeded weight during this season than any other. The average American finds not only his cup running over but also his cookie jar, candy dish, and dinner plate.
The image of the jolly fat man is slowly changing as more people become aware of the dangers and disadvantages of obesity. Dieting has blossomed into a big business, and the list of diet foods and diet books grows longer every day. Health clubs and beauty spas have bulging memberships. One cigarette company now promotes a brand for women that is “slimmer than the fat cigarettes men smoke.” We’ve come a long way, friends.
But the problem of gluttony is still very real for some 40 million Americans, many of whom occupy a pew or a pulpit every Sunday. I heard one minister say, patting his protruding middle, that he was proud of his “chicken graveyard.” He was joking when he should have been repenting.
A recent study by the Metropolitan Life Insurance Company showed that the male who is 20 per cent overweight has a 43 per cent greater chance of developing heart disease and a 53 per cent greater chance of having cerebral hemorrhages, and is 133 per cent more susceptible to contracting diabetes. In other words, a person who habitually overeats is digging his grave with a spoon. This should be of vital interest to every woman upon whose menu planning the family diet depends. Mrs. Dale Carnegie, in How to Help Your Husband Get Ahead, said:
Want to know how to kill your husband—and get away with it? Don’t bother with cyanide, blunt instruments or revolvers—just feed him a steady diet of rich pastries and heavy starches until he is at least 15 to 25 per cent overweight! Then sit back and think what a good-looking widow you’ll make—because it won’t be long now.
According to the experts, between 70 and 80 per cent more men than women die in their early fifties.
Many of us never know what little will power we have until we try dieting. Diets are never fun. Most people who become casualties in the war against fat simply lack sufficiently strong motivation.
Guideposts magazine recently published an account of how one person found a key to a meaningful reducing program. Mary Bowers MacKorell was told by her doctor to take off several pounds. She quickly went through the syndrome of diet plans, dietetic foods, and calorie counting, but she couldn’t seem to find the necessary will power. One day she received in the mail a pamphlet appealing for money to help feed needy children. On the cover was a picture of a dark-skinned boy whose scrawny chest and limbs made him look like a tiny skeleton. The sight of this starving child was a kind of spiritual shock treatment, she says. It started her thinking about how she could take off her unneeded pounds and at the same time help to put some desperately needed pounds on the body of a starving child.
At last I had a spiritual motivation for reducing. Under God’s guidance I formed a practical plan and carried it through. For a period of ten days I ate only two meals each day, skipping lunch. Each day at the lunch hour I sipped a sugar-free drink and looked at the picture of the starving boy. I prayed God to bless him and let my extra weight be transferred to him or someone like him. For each lunch omitted I placed in a box one dollar saved.
The result was exactly as I had hoped. My experiment began on August 10 and ended August 19. In that ten-day period I had not only saved $110 but lost exactly five pounds.
This jubilant girl made two important discoveries: There is a way of escape from gluttony, as from every other temptation (1 Cor. 10:13); and one’s own problems are often solved by helping others.
What higher motivation could one have than that of serving God by helping someone in need? Unfortunately, after all is said and done, more is said than done. An anonymous writer has vividly described the “Be-ye-warmed-and-filled” philosophy:
I was hungry
and you formed a humanities club
and discussed my hunger.
Thank you.
I was imprisoned
and you crept off quietly
to your chapel in the cellar
and prayed for my release.
I was naked
and in your mind
you debated the morality of my
appearance.
I was sick
and you knelt and thanked God for
your health.
I was homeless
and you preached to me
of the spiritual shelter of the
love of God.
I was lonely
and you left me alone
to pray for me.
You seem so holy;
so close to God;
But I’m still very hungry,
and lonely,
and cold.
The Mosaic law declared that the fat of the sacrificed animals belonged to the Lord and was to be burned as an offering to him (Lev. 3:16). Perhaps the overweight Christian could reverently let his body be a “living sacrifice” to God (Rom. 12:1) by “burning off” extra pounds through dieting or fasting. Once he determines he is going to lose weight and realizes that the Lord will help him, the next step is to decide how his “Fasting Fund” will be used. Worthy outlets abound. Some people might like to help feed or clothe hungry families, in their own community or far away. Others may choose to support an orphan child in another land (this can be done for as little as $10 per month). Others may prefer to give spiritual food to persons whose souls are undernourished; a check to the American Bible Society or the mission work of a congregation will help meet this need.
You can lose weight. And you can help others. We think of a philanthropist as someone who contributes great sums of money to worthy causes; yet the word itself is derived from two Greek words, philos, “loving,” and anthropos, “man.” Each of us can be a philanthropist—a “loving man.” Each of us can give of himself to help others.
Stanley Paregien is associate minister of the Mayfair Church of Christ in Oklahoma City. He recieved the M.A. degree from the University of New Mexico and is working toward a Ph.D. in speech at the University of Oklahoma.
