consuming dead things
warning about pursuing the putrid
A few nights ago, this fellow got hold of something that had expired. I don’t mean “expired” in the sour milk sense — it was a critter (of some sort) that had given up the ghost. Banu and I attempted in vain to encourage / force his relinquishing of the said dearly departed.
His swallowing of the foul thing, which to him must have been quite tasty, was the sign of our defeat. Still, all was not lost. Banu made an evening call to his vet, apologizing for the intrusion. He offered some steps to follow and then suggested what would end our dog’s nighttime snack. We provided Ronan with sips of hydrogen peroxide. And this required no force. He liked drinking it!
Soon, Ronan’s belly began visibly churning, and he upchucked the contents of his stomach. Of course, dead things have a distinct and quite unpleasant aroma. Doggie breath has a bad reputation according to human noses, but this… Yikes!
That raises a question for me: how often do we consume dead things? (Vegetarians and vegans might point to consumers of meat and say, “You do it all the time!”) I’ll lay aside that topic for another day. I’m talking about imitating Ronan, though not in a literal sense.
Do the scriptures say anything about this? Here are “tidbits” from Old and New Testaments:
“I am the Lord your God, who brought you up out of the land of Egypt. Open your mouth wide and I will fill it… I would feed you with the finest of the wheat, and with honey from the rock I would satisfy you” (Psalm 81:10, 16). “Do not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you” (John 6:27).
Don’t eat what is dying, what will poison you.
What death do we bring inside ourselves? What rancid repast do we seek to provide nutrition? If we are what we eat, do we eat the things that make for life? Or rather, do we consume that which sucks joy, light, and life? Do we enjoy feeding death to each other? Do we bathe in the cesspool of cynicism? Do we shower in shaming? Beyond that, what morbid addictions enslave us after we get a little taste? Are we in fact addicted to death? (Am I stuck in a question-asking time loop?)
Some might remember when Pepsi Cola asked us to “take the Pepsi challenge.” It was a blind taste test with Coke. There was a display at the grocery store near our house in Tennessee, and the woman behind the table asked me if I wanted to take the challenge.
I tried both sodas, and I picked the one I liked better. The woman was visibly dejected. “Oh, you picked Coke.” I was a bad boy; I made the wrong choice! But apparently I could still repent, because she offered the rest of the cup to me. That is, the rest of the Pepsi. Maybe she figured that she could help me see the light!
It seemed she wanted me to become addicted: though not that Pepsi equals death!
If we are indeed addicted to death, some qualities might be present. Perhaps we obey orders from on high, or within ourselves, to take pleasure in the misfortune of others. (You know who those “others” are.) We fall into the realm of “being hated and hating one another” (Titus 3:3).
However, when we bring life into ourselves — when we choose life — we bring life to those around us. Life can’t be restrained. Joy seeks out joy.
Let’s take our dog’s choice in menu as an object lesson. Don’t consume dead things.
