We like to say all sins are
“equal” in the eyes of God, that there is no scale of less or worse sins, that
a white lie or a homicide alike would have been enough to require Christ to die
on the cross. We say this in theory, but in practice, we know that a white lie
won’t get you kicked off the church leadership or worship team. And a homicide likely
will.
In practice, there are
some sins that are socially acceptable, even in the Church. There’s one sin in
particular that has pervaded our society and churches so silently we hardly
give it a second thought, and that is the constant hunt for more over what is
enough. Or, in an uglier terminology, what is known as gluttony.
At its simplest, gluttony
is the soul’s addiction to excess. It occurs when taste overrules hunger, when
want outweighs need.
All desire for excess stems from a lack of
satisfaction. I’m not satisfied with my portion—be it the portion on my plate,
in the marriage bed, or in my bank account. Because I’m not satisfied with my
portion, I then seek a greater portion. But because every portion is a finite
part of a finite whole, I am constantly chasing an excess that can never
satisfy.
This is the story of Genesis 3. What was the sin
in the Garden of Eden if not a desire for excess? Adam and Eve were given
beautiful sights and beautiful tastes in the absence of shame, but what made
the garden a paradise was not any of this. It was a paradise because God walked
in the cool of the day with them. And yet, Adam and Eve’s downfall was because
they deemed even this as not enough. They weren’t content with their portion of
paradise, and they reached out—to disastrous consequence—for more.
Like them, we are ravenous beings. We embody
bottomless cravings that constantly paw at the next attractive thing. Our
appetites are as strong as death, Proverbs 27:20 tells us. We are always on the
move for the next thing that can satisfy and slake our restless thirst. This endless
pull is the engine of gluttony. It propels our souls ever toward excess.
And yet, the desire for
“more” is often misdirected. What we need is a
relentless appetite for the divine. We need a holy ravenousness. Our craving
souls can turn and become enthralled by a goodness that is found in the
presence of an all-glorious God. There is only one infinite source of
satisfaction that can satisfy our bottomless cravings.
In pursuit of lesser
portions, our tastes have dulled. We’ve become numb to our real hungers,
filling them with lesser fare. But when we return to the source, we taste anew.
Psalm 34:8 challenges us
to see the difference for ourselves: “Taste and see that the Lord is good.” I
think Paul understood this verse when he told the people at Lystra that God
gives food and gladness so that our hearts would turn from vain things and turn
to the ultimate satisfaction of who God is (Acts 14:15-17).
Consequently, God has ordained that His goodness
can be tasted and seen .First, it means that
every finite pleasure and satisfaction is meant to point us toward the infinite
pleasure and satisfaction of God. My admiration for a sunset, then, need not
stop at that horizon, rather it can curve upward into praise and gratitude.
Second, it means that if our desire for "more" is misplaced, then
certainly it can be redirected to something good as well.
Do we relish the chance
to spend a few more minutes in prayer, hidden away from the world for just one
more taste of the divine? When was the last time we lingered long over the
pages of an open Bible because we just couldn’t stop admiring the honeyed
flavor of an ancient truth? If the Bible is the story of the only infinite
good, why do we spend so much of our lives at lesser tables?
If only we would feast
on an infinite God who offers fullness of life, rather than these lesser tables
with the far milder flavors of money, sex, food and power.
