Fed, but Not Enough

I had lunch at church today. Dale Reeves and Allison Rambo did a fine job offering training to small group (a.k.a. "Tribes") leaders at our church, and lunch was a part of the deal. (Side note, how great to have folks responsible for and helping adult discipleship/education/classes/small groups now!) They had box lunches from Honeybaked Ham, one of my favorite lunch spots (their cafe is just down the street from my office location), and I tried the chicken salad sandwich. Never had it before--it was great!

Dale had extra lunches on hand, and he was passing them out after the meeting. I brought two more
home, and Evelyn and I will have 'em for supper tomorrow night. So that means the church will have fed me TWICE this week! Sweet! And this in appreciation for doing a task I was already committed to.

But here's the thing. The church isn't feeding me all week. I spent about $100 at the grocery store yesterday, and Evelyn will probably hit Kroger's for some midweek fill-ins later. Not only that, but I also have money in my pocket for at least a couple lunches out this week. I'm making plans, investing resources, and looking forward to some fine meals Evelyn and I will provide for ourselves. After the church offered me a couple of box lunches, I figure the rest of my "three squares" are on my plate to provide.

Pretty obvious, right? Eating is my responsibility, not anyone else's. Preschoolers and invalids may depend on someone else to keep them fed, but I'm very pleased I'm not in either category. I feed myself. If I looked at my wife and said, "I'm not being fed," she'd probably tell me to pick up my fork or get off my duff and open the refrigerator.

Occasionally I don't eat enough for dinner, so I supplement with a bedtime snack. Sometimes I end up at a restaurant that doesn't please me and I decide not to go back. There's nothing wrong with deciding the dispenser of the food is not satisfying me. When that happens, I choose another menu. But I don't blame the cook. When it comes to being fed, I'm my own dietician.

Actually, there's nothing new about this. Maybe 20 or 30 years ago a preacher friend of mine was reflecting on the accusation he'd heard from some disgruntled church members. Their beef? "I'm not being fed."

Unfortunately, the complaint doesn't go away. But neither has the response. "If you're not being fed, go get something to eat!"

This is especially appropriate when the complainers are not new Christians, starving for truth, but experienced believers with a finely developed appetite for what they do and don't like. I'm thinking of so many people I've encountered in the Two Thirds World eating little or the the same something day after day. I imagine them standing with a sack of White Castles in their hand, taking a bite of the oniony  bullets, making a face, and saying to their benefactor: "I'm not being fed." I don't think so. Hungry people relish whatever's put before them.

I have lots of concerns about my spiritual diet. I don't know the Bible as well as I wish I did. I don't read as much of it each week as I think I ought. I pray, but I want to pray more. I study, but each lesson reminds me how much I still need to learn. I eat, but not enough.

And I know whatever the church serves for an hour on  Sunday cannot be anything more than an appetizer or, if done really well, a cooking lesson.

I'm grateful for the lunch the church served today. Delighted for the leftovers to enjoy tomorrow. But the church did not feed me enough this week. And it never will. And it never should.