Today in the leader’s meeting at church we were discussing/semi-joking about worshipping God through the health of our bodies, and that our bodies are a temple of the Holy Spirit (1 Cor 6:19). We’re generally overweight in our culture and in our church, and could stand to lose some myself. I also spoke how food and health were well-talked about in the early church and church fathers. Gluttony used to be a sin. Then I said this:
“It’s easier to read the Bible and pray and do things than it is turn away from a chocolate chip cookie.”
I said that.
I actually said that.
It then struck me later the thought that my body isn’t my own. It doesn’t belong to me anymore. When I surrendered to Christ, my body became his as well. Not to live any longer in sensuality but in sensitivity (Eph 4:19). My problem at the root is that I haven’t really surrendered. Yes, surrendered. Because I’m still treating my body as if it were mine.
When an enemy lifts the white flag of surrender and the troops move in to receive that surrender, the VERY FIRST THING that is done is that enemy is thoroughly examined for any guns or explosives. I once had a patient who did body checks and she said in war they do things very thoroughly. But it’s necessary. To make sure that there is nothing left. Why?
Because partial surrender is the same as no surrender.
Think about it. Would you accept surrender from someone who gives up everything but wants to keep their hand gun? Or “just one grenade”? Nope. Partial surrender is no surrender.
The only surrender is full surrender.
My body doesn’t belong to me anymore. I gave it to Christ when I gave my life to him.
But none of this does any good if I don’t act on it.
Oh Jesus, help me.