I've mentioned it here before, but I suspect that there are many readers who don't know that I am a proud alumnus of Weight Watchers. When I was a sophomore in high school, I think I tipped the scale at around 210 lbs. At 5'7" or 5'8" I did try to convince myself that I was big-boned or husky. Ultimately, however, I was able to recognize that, plainly and simply, I was fat.
This led me to join Weight Watchers. Each week I would attend meetings, I'd pay a $10.00 fee, and I would get weighed. As a group we would laud those who had lost certain increments of weight (every 5 or 10lbs) and our leader would give us advice about healthy eating and exercise. Our leader - Juan - was a successful attorney who had himself struggled for years before joining Weight Watchers. His way of expressing his gratitude was to act as a guide and resource for others who wished to lose weight.
I remember how nervous I was each week. I really did try to watch what I ate, skipping candy bars and ice cream and sipping water rather than soda. Instead of three helpings at dinner, I learned to be satisfied with one. Instead of watching television, I'd go for a walk each night. When I grew listless or bored, I'd practice music rather than bake brownies.
As I look back upon it, I realize that I could not have lost weight on my own. I needed the support of a community, the wisdom and resources of others who had gone before me and who had experienced success and failure. I needed that weekly accountability, I needed the weekly grind of losing 1 or .5 lbs. I needed people around me who could celebrate with me when I moved from a size 36" to a 34" waist; I needed the encouragement I found there to lose almost sixty pounds in six months. I needed to know that I was not alone.
On some level, I'd love to see the Jesuit Weight Loss program called 'Faith Watchers' that would couple weight loss and spiritual practice. This might be a few years in the offing. But if the Jesuits can carve out an Irish music niche on YouTube, I suspect anything is possible!
I think the model of Weight Watchers resonates well with and offers a challenge to our own Christian praxis. As sinners, we do realize that we cannot heal ourselves, that we cannot craft our own salvation. This insight highlights a still small voice calling us forward, calling us into relationship with the Holy Other who is and has been waiting for us. It is a call that invites us as broken and sinful. It is a call that proffers healing and rest. It is a call issued to all who will listen and who will respond. It is a call, consequently, to community.
But do we support each other? Do we know those who sit each week with us at Mass? My family pretty well sat in the same pew each week but I don't know that I ever knew very many of those who sat around us. I spent several months with "Mary" and I know her entire narrative of weight loss; I spent years praying with members of my parish community and I still don't know their names!
I think Weight Watchers operates out of three moments that Christians should take note of:
1. The recognition that one is fat. (I am a sinner)
2. The recognition that one cannot lose weight alone. (I need outside help)
3. The entrance of a community called together for a common purpose.
The analogy limps at points, but my point is this: Weight Watchers is successful because it is community of persons who are journeying together toward a common goal. They support one another, they challenge one another, they aide one another. The weekly "confession" of the scale keeps us honest - it acknowledges our failings and our successes. The periods of plateaus that frustrate us parallel the spiritual aridity that plagues so many of us. The failure of those around us recall our own failing and lead us deeper into solidarity; the success of others inspires us to re-double our own efforts.
If Weight Watchers is successful, it is because it isn't a crash-course diet. It trains you to see eating and health and fitness as an integrated whole. It calls you to moderation and to balance. So, too, does the spiritual life! If the Weight Watcher imagination trains you to see your lifestyle anew, then the Catholic imagination does much the same. Balance and moderation (ascetism), failure and success (Paschal Mystery), aridity (Dark Night), and the day-to-day discipline of prayer (the work of dieting) all contribute to the way you see the world, the way you see yourself, and the way you come to know God.
I mention this because I think that our Christian communities have much to learn from the success of programs such as Weight Watchers. Joined together as pilgrims in search of Living Water (not Living Soda) we are called upon to be our "Brother's Keeper" and support and challenge our fellow journeyers. We are fed on the Eucharist, a table set with bread and wine that become the Body and Blood of Christ who invites, challenges, encourages, and nourishes us.
I'd love to write more on this, but I have to go and buy several wheels of Brie cheese. I'm making Baked Brie (three types) for our social gathering this evening. Delicious Brie, slathered in preserves and baked in puff pastry served with fresh bread...how many Weight Watchers points do you think that is???
8 comments:
Fr. Ryan, I am also a WW alumnus, and do need to go back!
I definitely agree with you that WW is a good model for Christian unity, particularly in the US. Actually I think that ANY collective group with a common purpose is a good model, as we tend to be much to individualistic in the US. I think a lot of the current crisis in the RC Church has to do with a general dissatisfaction that people feel because they are in the whole "what-does-the-Church-do-for-ME" mentality.
Love your blog!
This was great, Ryan. I think this has a lot to do with why I've been enjoying RCIA so much - it's less about the particular topics we cover, and more about the weekly faith-sharing (including the "am I praying the right way? is it OK?") that we do as a group, as we move together into being received by the Church.
Ryan, I see the point of your analogy. I'm sure you'd agree that it is seriously flawed when we realize that WW (or any similar group) calculates its success in terms of pounds lost. Jesus, in his body the Church, fortunately doesn't use the standards of this world to calculate success. In fact, He accuses Peter of thinking as the world thinks & not as GOd thinks. He lifts up the lowly.
If your paradigm was adopted, it could easily lead to a "I've lost 50 pounds, so I'm good. You've gained 50 pounds, so you're bad" mentality, given our fallen nature.
You're right in noting the analogical structure of my reflection. But I disagree with there being a serious flaw.
What separates WW from many other diet programs is that it is not *just* about losing weight. I can get liposuction, gastric bypass, or some deranged diet that promises maximum benefit with minimum output. WW's strategy is weight-loss (a good thing) through learning to see food in a new light. It re-trains our gustatory imagination, making us attentive to what we eat and why we eat it. One learns to savor one's meals rather than to scarf it down and take seconds.
You're right - it could lead to competitiveness. But I think that it is present already - "I go to Holy Days of obligation and pray 2 hrs each day, so I am a superior Christian." I think we have this mentality already - and we don't even have great community!
On the flip side, the call of Christ to discipleship does not posture an "I'm okay, you're okay" attitude. It is a challenge to take up one's cross, to follow, to "come and see." A journey must take place, a movement from where one is found and where one is invited to go.
The fallen nature of our humanity points to the reality that, at times, we will fail. We will screw up royally (ten candy bars on a rainy afternoon, a chocolate cake eaten in three days). And this does show up, so long as we're honest with ourselves.
Jesus subverts the logic of the world throughout his life and ministry and through the resurrection. But in subverting it, he offers us a logic of the Kingdom, a culture of the cross.
I believe that the WW finds success in a both/and approach not foreign to the Catholic tradition: it both challenges and shapes our imagination AND calls us to action.
Anyone can join WW, get all the books, and still eat loads of fatty foods. Is he really a WW? Or just one who shows up?
Anyone can show claim to be a Christian, but how is it manifested? Does it shine forth in the day-to-day struggles or is it just a showing up each Sunday and then business as usual?
Basically, I am saying that it is nonsensical to think that being a Christian or a WW means that you have to do nothing. If one's relationship with Christ does not rouse her into action, does not demand something of her, then I question whether it's a relationship with the living God or an idol who allows us to live securely.
One can walk into a funhouse and stare at all sorts of mirrors that make us look any way we want. We can rest in that, complacent, having found the self-image that makes us feel good - even if it is distorted! That's idolatry. The icon Christ captivates our gaze ands stares back at us, calling us into relationship, drawing us to step forward toward him. This gaze shatters our worldly logic, places us into the culture of God's kingdom. The authentically met gaze does not permit us to languish in our muck and mire...it calls us forward. A pierced hand reaches out, beckoning us, inviting us to "come and see" as we walk with the Lord...together.
I think I could go on (I know I could) but I have some things to do. I invite further comments - it's a rich topic!
I would offer one other thing, in regard to the analogical structure:
my experience of WW was so positive precisely because it wasn't competitive. We were welcomed for trying, lauded for succeeding, consoled and encouraged when we failed. There was no economy of "I lost more, so I'm better" - we were all called toward the same goal - a healthy lifestyle - and bound together on this journey, we saw ourselves as companions, not competitors.
"Companions, not competitors"...sounds like you found heaven on earth :)
For clarification, I really did not intend to imply that we have to "do nothing' when we follow Jesus. My intention was simply to point out that what appears to be something in the eyes of the world may indeed be our saving grace. E.g., the professional with a six figure income who can't kick his/her alcoholism may be so humbled by the 'defeat' that he's saved from hell. I'm sure you get my drift.
Ryan - I like the analogy, and your point that we need more of a helping, supportive, personal community. Other Christian churches have that - I'm thinking of Evangelical Protestant churches in particular. 'Community' in the Catholic parishes I've belonged to most often means once-a-month socials in the basement (that are not well-attended, either). If there's a school a the parish, the school community far outweighs the church-community.
One parish priest told me he thought the US church got it wrong when it built all these big churches to serve the growing immigrant communities (which is where the US church really came from). Instead of building all these big churches, it should have built lots of small ones. The sense of community would have been stronger, and he thought the overall church would have been better off. I can appreciate his point.
I have a hard time imagining you at 210 pounds. That aside, having spent many years in AL-ANON, I think your analogy applies to the 12 Step groups, too.
Meanwhile, I'm currently losing weight under a doctor's supervision, because I figured the only way I won't talk myself out of going to the appointment is if (a) I have already paid a lot of money up front and (b) a guy in a white coat will be really mad at me if I don't show up.
That's a sort of fellowship, no?
(Shun the non-believer! Shuuuuuunnnnn! Agree with me or I'll tell your Provincial about Charlie the Unicorn.)
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