Jeff Adams

“So, what’s the weirdest food you ever had to eat?” That’s one of the FAQ’s when someone finds out what I do and that my passport is about the size of the latest Senate appropriations bill.

Missionaries love to make people think they eat horrible, exotic goop that you have to choke down in order to survive. Since I was once sort of a missionary and still travel the globe in missionary circles, the assumption is that I have to woof down awful food like Asian toad brains or Aardvark butter stew. My first time in South Africa years ago my friends delighted in getting me to eat Monkey Gland Sauce, a condiment that has nothing to do with monkeys and is more like a sweet Worcestershire sauce, so mainstream you can get it on your burgers at McDonald’s.

While in South Africa I did resist the temptation to gnaw on boiled sheep skulls. Seriously! I once walked into a place that served them, had them lining the walls of the joint and the stench was so bad it slapped me in the face the minute I opened the door. “Sir, would you like you skull with or without eyeballs in the sockets?”

Sure, I’ve had to eat some pretty gnarly stuff in my day. I find the best policy is simply to not ask. But, to be honest, most of what I’ve had to eat has been pretty doggone tasty. No, let me be really honest. I like LOVE food! “Bring it to me! Bring it ALL and bring it NOW!”

This can present some real challenges in the area of weight control. I was thinking about this the other day as my wonderful Costa Rican assistant took me to a new Austrian restaurant in town for my birthday. She had never had German/Austrian food before, and I was suddenly translating the menu for her. It dawned on me – I’m perfectly bilingual in Spanish and English, speak enough German to get into trouble, but DANG! I’m totally fluent in like 52 cuisines! Are you beginning to get my problem?

To further complicate this matter, when I travel I do not usually frequent 5 star hotels, Michelin 4 star restaurants and the like. Since I am usually with the locals, I am usually eating with the locals and like the locals. And, usually, that is a very good thing. Sometimes I am staying in a home and eating off the table of a real live family that has decided to kill the fatted calf and make a banquet since the man of God has come to dwell in the family hacienda. This is all pure goodness!

Furthermore, when said family has prepared the very greatest of local culinary delights, there is no way on earth that I am going to gracefully be getting out of sampling the whole spread. Some of the places I go are what are called “shame cultures,” meaning that a person’s honor is the highest value and to suffer shame is life’s worst nightmare. To refuse that dumpling made with a bucket of lard and 5 pounds of butter would be unthinkable. Forget about explaining how you ate late last night and feel bloated. Doesn’t work. Worse, I don’t want the responsibility of knowing that Mrs. Unpronounceable Name is going to spend eternity in Hell because the man of God brought shame to her and her ancestors by refusing that second helping of award-winning seal mush. No! Don’t want THAT on my record!

You’ll find that when you are somewhere in inner Slobbabistan, where you just forgot how to say “thank you, but I’m full,” there is no way you are going to communicate, “I just became a vegetarian last week,” or “is this glutton free?” “Sugar substitute” was not on the handy traveler’s vocabulary list you found on the Internet the night before you left. In some cultures to say “thank you,” means “I’m full,” and “no thanks” means “pile it on!” But, then I forgot which culture that was.

So, I’ve learned to eat, eat well and enjoy it thoroughly. Well … most of it.

Even at home the problem persists. People love to invite us to eat and we love to accept! Except that we rarely get to eat at home, and often have days where we are running from one event at which food is served to another. Just this weekend it cut our souls to the quick to have to refuse some amazing Caribbean food at a wedding anniversary celebration because we were to the point of retching from having gone to so many food events and had more on the agenda.  So much food, so little time!

So, how does the pastor keep from becoming beyond just a bit pudgy? If I let myself go, I think I could balloon up pretty fast. Moving around with a completely erratic schedule, the fad diets are not going to cut it. Try looking up the calorie count and fat % for mondongo (tripe soup) on that handy little calorie counter you just downloaded on your Blackberry.

“Excuse me, would you mind if I stopped preaching for just a few moments? I’m trying to drop a few pounds and the alarm just went off on my cell phone. I need to go right now and eat one of my six meals for the day. It’s important that I be consistent and keep on schedule. I knew you wouldn’t mind!”

By now you see that my options are few. I make the healthy choices when I can (Let’s see. Should I take the fried cheese balls or the yogurt?), and I try to exercise portion control as much as is humanly possible within the confines of the culture context where I am currently stuffing my face.

But, here’s the real tip I’ve learned. I fast. Yep! I really do. Twice a week if I can, and at least one day for sure.

Yes, I hear all of you who have studied the nutrition of diets and how fasting jacks with your metabolism and causes you to get a double chin in less than three weeks. I can promise you that no company making billions off of overweight people is going to let you see any research that would suggest that something as simple as fasting (no special foods, nothing to buy, nothing to carry with you) is going to help you control your weight. Here’s a link for some actual research to demonstrate the benefits of fasting if you are really interested.

Could it really be that something mentioned in the Bible could be beneficial to your health? What would Jesus know about weight control? No, I don’t fast for 40 days, or even 4. Once or twice a week for 24 hours. Period.

Here come the legalists! Watch out!

“You can’t do that! That doesn’t count! Fasting in the Bible is a spiritual activity. If you aren’t on your face praying and suffering and being miserable and all that, how in the world do you think God could be pleased with you?”  (I’m also on a permanent legalism fast).

Go back and reread. I never said this was a spiritual activity. I said I don’t want to get fatter. I really think God is OK with that. And, I’ll tell you what. I’ve even discovered that if I pray while I’m fasting for physical reasons, so far God has not gotten mad at me.

I’m writing this on a flight to Lima. Once there, I am anticipating some good eating. So, this means no food since last night. I’ve learned that I can do this. It’s not all that hard. Well, I must admit that the temptation to start chewing on some of the subscription cards in the magazines in the seat pocket in front of me sometimes gets intense. But, I am sitting in coach and the temptation to eat real food is thereby minimized.

When I do this little fasting regimen, I find that I can eat just about everything in moderation – smaller portions, chew slowly  … You know the drill, don’t you?