Cupcakes for Lent

Recently I was pondering the rate of obesity in America, and at the same time, this thing called "food insecurity" which basically means an expressed anxiety about when and where the next meal is coming from.  It's not the same, mind you, as say, a famine in the Developing World, but still it's something with which people in America are contending.  In a country that has food stamps for the poor its presence is not something I completely understand, but I'm trying.  Nonetheless, I was thinking about the typical American response to the presence of obesity.  In the school where I taught in Memphis the response was to eliminate all sweets and snacks from schools.  Is it your child's birthday?  Great!  Celebrate with a tray of carrot sticks. Nothing says, "I'm glad you're alive, let's celebrate your life!" like celery and a glass of water.  Prisoners are jealous, I'm sure. 

Seriously, America?  This is the best you can do? 

Well, to be frank, yes.  It's in our DNA (so is greed, for that matter, but that's another post).  We are Puritans.  As part of the direct lineage (well, me, and thousands of others, but that's neither here nor there) of William Brewster I don't have a lot of room to begrudge the Puritans, but alas, their paradigm of starkness and gnosticism leaves a wide legacy in today's world (this is when I cling to other parts of my ancestry -- like the Cherokees and, God help me, the French). 

I wonder, what would it be like to teach children that there is a time and place for feasting... and fasting?  Would they be less insecure about the next cupcake coming their way if they could look on a calendar and see its approach like Christmas?  I don't mind eating carrots today because we're celebrating my best friend's birthday with pizza tomorrow?  I wonder this, because I think that when someone fears not having "the good things in life" again in the foreseeable future, they tend to horde with greed and fear rather than give thanks with gratitude and trust. 

The reason I think about all of this now is because it's Lent  -- more specifically, it's Clean Monday.  So, I therefore, have food on the brain.  If I were more godly, I'd have God on the brain, but I'm thinking about food instead.  Here is what I'm thinking about -- many Orthodox cultures have ways of entering into Clean Week that look nothing like the monastic tradition I was handed upon becoming Orthodox.  Most of those cultures include a small amount of food (usually raw foods like nuts and fruits in the evening) and, at least, something to drink.  What was I handed?  I was told to drink nothing.  And to eat nothing.  From sundown on Sunday until after pre-Sanctified Liturgy on Wednesday.  Why?  Probably because those who handed it to me are Puritans who do not understand that there's a difference between being a monastic and not being a monastic.  So... for years now, after getting raging headaches at work and being too lacking in energy to function, I finally ate something, how did I do it?  Gluttonously.  And with massive amounts of guilt and self-loathing for not being hard-core enough (kudos to you if you smile for three days while submitting to The Three Day Fast -- you get a cookie.  Later.)   After all, that's the American way.  Go hard or go home!

Don't get me wrong.  There are many good things America brings to the Orthodox plate, but Puritanism isn't one of them.  "Economia" is probably one of the most difficult words for American converts to grasp.  We are monastics or we're Hell-bound. 

Lent has begun.  But take heart, cupcakes are coming.