I was getting ready for work recently one morning, and my wife asked what I wanted for breakfast. She then asked if I needed something to go or if I had time to sit down and eat. Seeing as I’m one of those people that habitually run late (shameful, I know), I’m pretty sure she already knew the answer, but politely ran it by me anyway. “To go, for sure!” I said. “Egg sandwich okay then?” she followed. “Sounds good” I replied.
Didn’t think any further about it as I rushed out door with a neatly wrapped sandwich in one hand and work stuff in the other. I kissed the wife and the baby, and then I was off. I drive a car with a manual transmission (stick rules btw) so I normally wait until I hit the main road if I’m eating on the fly. Rural area, long straight drags… it’s just easier that way.
So, I began to unwrap my still warm sandwich. The bread was a golden brown color with a touch of burnt crispness along the edges. At first bite, I realized that this was no ordinary egg sandwich… but perhaps the “perfect” egg sandwich? That little ball of cholesterol had been perfectly cooked and seasoned with just the right amount of salt and pepper. And then there’s the cheese… Oh the cheese. I don’t know if it was an oversight or not (and I really don’t care), but it seemed as if there were TWO pieces of the dairy delight melted together for the collective cause. I attacked the innocent meal voraciously like it was my last. Bite after bite of cheesy, buttery, eggs-y goodness. It so moved me, that at one point, I audibly shouted with a mouth half full, “This touches my soul!” Out loud. In the car. By myself. It happened. Wondering if I had been possessed by the chicken spirit, or if I had just developed an alternate personality, or if I was just inexplicably impressed by the savor of the sandwich; I began thinking about what I had just involuntarily exclaimed.
Here in the south, the food is good. If there is a vast collection of really, REALLY good food, you might call it, “soul food.” I doubt you could designate or limit exactly which dishes classify as soul food, but one thing is certain. Soul food isn’t prepared with health in mind. Fat free? No way. Sugar free? Negative. Gluten free? You better just go on home. This type of food is prepared with two goals in mind: One, to fill you up, two, to taste really good. That’s about it. Sit down for a Sunday lunch with some soul food and be prepared to use that other belt loop.
But you know, as tasty as the best food may be, and as comforting as it may seem, the harsh reality is, food doesn’t truthfully touch the soul. I mean, while incredible pleasure is gained from culinary creations, that pleasure is, at last, temporary. That’s what keeps us going back for more, and more and more. We can’t ever seem to get completely “filled up”. When we go out to eat, it basically takes an act of Congress to decide which restaurant we’re going to patronize. Why? Because we don’t want to miss out on that meal that is going to make us happy for the time being. It’s almost as if it’s a drug with a permanent hold on us (topic for another day). Don’t get me wrong, food is absolutely necessary for life and for living, and I believe we are totally in bounds to enjoy it, but like many other things, I think we put all too much stock in the comfort it provides.
“Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God”
Sound familiar? Those are the words of the Son of God Himself in response to one of the devil’s temptations in the wilderness.
“Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God”