Tag Archives: 1 Thessalonians

Controlling the Belt Buckle

It is God’s will that you should be sanctified: that you should avoid sexual immorality; that each of you should learn to control your own body in a way that is holy and honorable, not in passionate lust like the pagans, who do not know God. –1 Thessalonians 4:3-5

Recently, as I looked around a group of godly men, most of them my age or a few years older, I noticed something that nearly all had in common: bellies bulging out over their belts. I say that fully conscious that my own profile on that evening looked pretty similar to theirs.

What makes men of a certain age put on weight? You don’t expect a sixty-year-old to have ripped abs, but is there really some reason why we should all look as if we’re a pregnant woman who hasn’t just started to show?

In my case, the explanation is quite simple. Over the last couple of years, I haven’t controlled my body very well. Lest you hear that and recall the verse quoted above, let me hasten to say that my lack of control isn’t in the sexual arena. No, my lack of control involves the amount of food that goes into my mouth and the amount of physical exertion that consumes that food.

It didn’t take me a long span of life to learn that food tastes good. Lots of food tastes good, and it doesn’t stop tasting good when you’ve eaten a bit of it. The fifth piece of pizza is almost exactly as rewarding as the first.

Gluttony–just like sexual immorality–is a sin. My body requires stewardship just as surely as my bank account, regardless of whether that stewardship deals with my sexuality or my fitness. Bad behavior in either area can ruin me for effective Christian ministry.

“Control your own body,” Paul insists, as if it were an easy thing. But of course he knew that it wasn’t an easy thing. It’s not an easy thing to hit the gym in the morning. It’s not an easy thing to stop at one or two pieces of pizza. And it’s not easy to keep your mind from thinking sexually impure things. But actually that’s where the key lies.

Unless I am completely wrong, I will probably never stop looking at at least some workouts as something to be dreaded. I will probably never cease to long for more and richer food. And I will probably never stop being tempted in that other carnal area. Still connected to that “body of death” of mine, I’m subject to temptations.

In 1 Thessalonians, Paul does not say that his readers had to escape all temptation. Instead, he urges them to control their bodies and not act upon the temptation. With God’s help and my own efforts, I have mastered my sexual desire. I’ve seen the same combination of forces master my physical shape. Now, wearing a larger size of pants, has God stopped helping? Of course not.

“Learn to control your own body,” Paul insists. Did he suggest it was easy or automatic? Apparently not since it had to be learned. I may not be able to control the physiques of my brothers, but I can, with some effort, make a change to my own.

Who Am I Pleasing?

As for other matters, brothers and sisters, we instructed you how to live in order to please God, as in fact you are living. Now we ask you and urge you in the Lord Jesus to do this more and more. For you know what instructions we gave you by the authority of the Lord Jesus.–1 Thessalonians 4:1-2

With a four-hour gap between obligations at school yesterday, I headed off campus and visited one of the few indoor malls remaining in the Kansas City area. My purpose for the visit lay in getting some exercise without heading to the gym. Yes, I am old. I’ve turned into a mall walker. But as I strode around both levels of the Oak Park Mall, I witnessed a string of things that should have come as no surprise. That retail pseudo-utopia rests on the notion that we as humans ought to live to please ourselves.

I’ll admit that Auntie Anne’s Pretzel’s smelled awfully good and would, I’m sure, have tasted just as transcendent. The burgers and pizza in the food court spoke to me as well, but I’d eaten lunch at school.

If I counted correctly, there were three shops dedicated to lingerie in this place. To keep my mind where it belonged, I mostly ignored those, resisting the temptation–and that temptation never seems to die–to ogle the images of Victoria’s Secret models.

Nordstrom’s, through which I entered and exited the place, sports all manner of exceptionally nice clothes. A person could drop thousands of dollars in the widely spaced displays of the store, coming away with a gorgeous wardrobe and the credit-card bill to prove it.

Elsewhere, I walked past any number of stores selling overpriced athletic shoes–designed more for appearance than function–and a huge selection of ball caps, so that no one need face the indignity of wearing only a single K.C. Royals hat.

They had a store that offered some service for eyebrows, which I didn’t entirely understand, and a more comprehensible one doing nails. Massage chairs waited for my money in a number of places, and, should I want to drop a serious chunk of change, jewelers held down important spots.

What struck me in that mall is that there really wasn’t much of anything that seemed particularly useful. Clothes, of course, are useful, but the bulk of the clothing in this place struck me as long on price and short on quality or practicality or both.

But how on earth will our consumer-oriented economy continue to expand if we don’t buy new phones every year or dress them up with the perfect case? After all, you only live once. Grab the brass ring and all that. Make yourself happy, because nobody else is going to do it.

As he begins to draw the first letter to the Thessalonians to a close, Paul utters words that are positively un-American. We are supposed to live not to make ourselves happy but to live in such a way that pleases God. Crazy, eh?

Virtually everything at the mall revolves around making ourselves happy. Some of the things can be justified, but most of it is simple self-indulgence. Am I reading into Paul–and I don’t think I am–to suggest that if we live a life aimed at pleasing God, He is likely to give us a life that pleases us. Maybe we won’t get a nice, butter-soaked pretzel, but we’ll get something truly good.