Well, I heard something frighteningly funny today, and I must share it. Of course, I will need to serve up a side order of my less than structured thoughts on the whole Christ thing while I'm at it. But, I can't give up the tale, so here goes.
Today I found myself in one of those conversations where you get there and wish you hadn't, can't get out no matter which foot you put your weight on, see no option other than complete mental meltdown in the face of agonizing small-mindedness. That type. Anyway, it was with someone who is in truth quite dear. She is also a size zero, and she and her husband are health freaks. Not only disciplined, but zealous. We begin by talking about a brand of peanut butter that they have tried, and it is "better for you" and has more protein, more fiber, more vitamins (no, I will not tell you what brand!). It goes on till we are talking about all types of healthy foods and how one can lose weight by drinking a glass of vinegar every night. I guess there will be little enamel left on your choppers, but you'll be skinny, so the world is aglow! I am not a small girl. And so, of course, I realize that she is trying to softly, gently, lead me onto the path of righteous eating. (I did not at this point know to what degree that was her intent.) She pointed out that when sweets were in attendance in the kitchen area or on someone's desk..she would avoid them, or allow herself just one piece. And this went on, I say for an hour! (how much I wished for the magic cape, the abyss in the ground, the threat of fire)
Finally I said this to her...which was big of me (because I don't usually defend myself...but when we are talking about avoiding cake, I get serious)...that my journey at this point is about self-acceptance. And part of that is body acceptance. And I feel that is the best shot for me. I think I was quite eloquent about it, and I felt that I let her down easily (but I can be foolish, naive, and hopeful).
Her response was this..."well, just let me make one recommendation...a book that I am reading and it is so inspirational." Oh!, I say, a book...well, I do enjoy a good read...what, pray tell, is the title. She replies (and I feel I have to give this one some space)...
"What would Jesus Eat?"
I did not smirk, I did not smile, I did not fall down in a pile. I acted in grace. I stonewalled my face. And I quietly said...."wow".
My friend and I later discussed my conversation with our co-worker and we decided that Jesus, who I can imagine would be the biggest hippie to ever walk this earth...washing feet, kissing prostitutes, walking on water, hanging out with poor crippled people, would have chosen the Meditteranean diet. And he would have drank wine. The olives would be his concubine. Pasta steaming close by and marinara that would make sidewalks weep. Sweets brought from tiny bakeries specializing in unique flavors, gelato and tiny cappuccinos. This is the feast we imagine, captured in the tell all book.
Sadly, it is not the book my co-worker is reading. And hopefully she will forget her recommendation, because truthfully if it gets put in front of me, I just might throw it at somebody.