Lessons From Chocolate Deprivation

I have learned that I can actually live without M&Ms. This is no small matter given my intense devotion to chocolate, and believe me, it was not initially my idea to wander down this path of discovery. The truth is, my doctor has been on my case for years now about cholesterol, triglycerides, and the like, but I typically chose to alleviate the pain of his guilt-ridden warnings with more M&Ms. A few months ago, however, the conviction stuck and I decided that I needed to make better choices and live a healthier lifestyle. So, as a part of this new and improved approach to life, I cut M&Ms as a regular part of my diet. And guess what - I didn't die.

Actually, when I do have M&Ms now (only occasionally and in moderation), I seem to enjoy them more. Before, they were a daily compulsion that I had to fill and I ate them thoughtlessly rather than gratefully. It seems my sacrifice has resulted in a new sense of appreciation.

So I guess a little self-denial can be a good thing.

In a consumer-minded culture like ours, self-denial is not generally valued. We are driven to have more, use more, eat more, and buy more. We are part of a society that has everything, but values little; that wants it all, but is grateful for none. Even as the followers of Jesus we can find ourselves caught up in the same cycle of addiction to earthly things. Perhaps it would benefit us to rediscover the spiritual discipline of self-denial.

Clement of Alexandria (c. 150-c. 215) claimed that the body has the potential to be either the temple of the soul or the tomb of the soul. The difference between the two lies with the word attachment. When I am attached to something, I must have it; and when I must have it, it controls me. Those who are controlled and driven by temporal things lose their focus and attention on the things of the Spirit. The result, necessarily, is the loss of spiritual vitality and passion. Spiritually speaking, we become walking tombs.

Clement, along with many witnesses in the history of the Church, believed that self-denial helps us to break our attachments to worldly possessions, activities, and pleasures. Times of fasting remind us that we do not have to have these things and we do not live for them. Periods of voluntary sacrifice refocus our hearts and minds on the priorities of the Kingdom and draw our attention back to the voice of the Spirit. And when we return to the things we have given up for a while, we are able to receive them with true joy and gratitude as the gift of God, rather than a thoughtless compulsion. Breaking our attachments brings freedom, and rather than a tomb, we become a temple.

What would happen to our level of spiritual passion and focus if we practiced, consistently and deliberately, the discipline of self-denial? What if we gave up, just for a time, something that has the potential to control us and assume a higher priority than it should? There is no shortage of possible suspects: food, work, shopping, TV, sports, internet - the list is endless in our culture. It's not that we need to give them up forever, or that they are necessarily bad in and of themselves; we just have this tendency to become consumed, losing our sense of priority and spiritual focus. A little time without them helps to keep us free from unhealthy attachments.

Clement once said, "We ought to behave as strangers and pilgrims. . . as people who are not passionately attached to the created world but use it with all gratitude and with a sense of exaltation beyond it." I think Paul expressed it this way: "And even though 'I am allowed to do anything,' I must not become a slave to anything." (I Cor. 6:12, NLT)

Not even to M&Ms.