The Heart Has Its Reasons for Enjoying the Super Bowl

The heart has its reasons which reason knows nothing of. – Blaise Pascal

It is Super Bowl Sunday. I am a fan of football. Perhaps a bigger fan of the enjoyable hoopla involved, starting with the food. I find a good party to be invigorating, if not cathartic. But perhaps that’s just my justifying a favored idiocy. Maybe loving football is crazy.

I realize that my love of football isn’t “rational.” But it seems to me that holding just about any aspect of life to a ruler of cold logic sucks the life out of it. For good and bad. Couldn’t the origin of biological life itself be seen as a bit of a quirk, a happenstance detour from the straight and narrow?

Yes, when there are problems to confront, full-strength rationality can be one heck of a tool. In many situations, an indispensable tool. But to apply it to all of life . . . maybe that’s crazy.

As for the Pascal quote, I might revise it this way:

The unconscious has its reasons of which the conscious is largely unaware and has little comprehension.

Whatever you do today, I hope you enjoy it.

Do not love the world or anything in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. (1 John 2:15)

While Christians are supposed to keep their eyes on the prize to come, I have my eyes on lunch. Continuing with last Sunday’s theme of the sacred mundane, I present to you part II of my personal Bible: The Culinary Commandments.

Maybe the following commandments ought to be discussed in Sunday school sessions across the land, in addition to the customary 10. You know, teach the controversy.  Why not let children hear alternatives so they can choose for themselves?

—

The Lord of my stomach spake the Commandments (which had been scribbled upon the most holy index card and attached to the fridge with a kitty-cat magnet).  The kitchen echoed with these words:

Thou shalt put no other Lords before me, not even the Lord of thy intellect, and especially not the Lord of thy privates.

Thou shalt not make graven images in thy mashed potatoes, nor shall thy wrestle naked in thy coleslaw.

Thou shalt surely kill thy fish and fowl and swine and steer and cook these before eating of them. Raw flesh is food of foreigners and trendy infidels. Thou must save thyself from the temptation to sample a bite.

Thou shalt not steal the plumpest shrimp from the platter before thine dinner guests arrive. Thou shalt nibble on the ugly little ones.

Thou shalt not lie about thine Thanksgiving pumpkin pie being made from “scratch.” If thou has taken up thy can opener, thou must pay homage to Del Monte.

Thou shalt not commit an adulteration of thy pancake batter. If it ain’t broke, thou shalt not go throwing chocolate chips in there.

Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s grilled sirloin, though the savory smoke wafts into thine open window, and thou full knowest that thou is having tunafish casserole for dinner.

Now the Lord fell silent. He pulled a package from the freezer, put it in the microwave, and set it on “defrost.” The Lord continued . . . .

Remember thy napkin, and keep it in thy lap, and not just when dining with Grandma, who hath an eagle eye.

Honor thy father’s and thy mother’s recipes. Thou shalt never banish the blessed, original ingredients and in their stead use the lesser, “low-fat” kind. Nor shalt thou ever attempt to sneak soycheese, soyburgers, or soydogs into thine unsuspecting family’s supper.

Thou shalt not bear false witness about the milk. Thou shall check the expiration date and lift it to thy nose and thy mouth. For if thy wife drinks of it, and becomes ill and perishes, she will nevermore be in the mood to be fruitful.

And finally, the Lord said, For six days shalt thou toil at thy sink and at thy stove. But on the seventh day, thou may use thy cell phone to cry out for pizza. And though that prayer will be answered, thou shalt be charged for it.

Amen.

If you delve into specifics, people today ‘hunger’ for a god for reasons that poorly overlap with more ancient reasons.  At least in areas of the world with amply stocked supermarkets and respected borders.  Today we enjoy relative peace and little hunger.  Years ago — not so much.  And so hundreds of verses in the Old Testament speak of a god as one who not only could vanquish the enemy, but also alleviate hunger.  In fact, the Biblical drama all began in the Garden of Eden.

In a time of uncertainty, what individual wouldn’t welcome a leader who satisfied real hunger?

At twilight you will eat meat, and in the morning you will be filled with bread. Then you will know that I am the LORD your God. (Genesis 16:12)

The actions of gods in all religions reflect human concerns.  As with all animals, for the human primate food ranks at the top of concerns, followed by reproduction and others.  No, these issues are not transcendental, but fundamental.

Bread.  What a fantastic commodity.  It staves off hunger and provides the necessary energy to stand up and do what needs doing.  To be daily provided with bread—what fortune!  It is no surprise that the word bread appears in the Bible 250 times (New International Version).  Of course, there are other terms that appear throughout the Bible and reflect this basic need.  For example, famine appears 94 times, and crop(s) 60 times.  Not to mention the many verses about a god as the provider of rain (such as Psalms 65:9).

As telling is the how the “promised land” granted to a god’s children is described.

Go up to the land flowing with milk and honey. (Genesis 33:2-3

But it doesn’t stop there.

And because of the abundance of the milk they give, he will have curds to eat. All who remain in the land will eat curds and honey. (Isaiah 7:22)

You will have plenty to eat, until you are full, and you will praise the name of the LORD your God, who has worked wonders for you. (Joel 2:26)

Plenty to eat.  And honey no less!  If hunger were a real occurrence in our lives, and there was a possibility of starvation, I imagine that the thought of being granted abundant food would just about make you fall to your knees.  In thanks . . . to what?  The government?  As social animals, our instincts favor the thanking of an agent, even one of the imaginary sort.

In the New Testament, written during a more modern time–one of trade and markets–there is less talk of a god as the provider of food.  Still, it appears in a number of places.  Such as the “Lord’s Prayer.”

Our Father in heaven,
hallowed be your name.
Your kingdom come,
your will be done,
on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread,
and forgive us our debts,
as we also have forgiven our debtors.
And lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil. (Matthew 6:9-13)

Notice that in the prayer first comes praise, then an appeal.  Chimp primates will “ask” (beg) for food from others with an extended hand, palm up.  With this prayer, are humans asking for food by pressing their palms together?

I also discern in the prayer a sort of inverse hierarchy of needs.  First comes food, sex/procreation is skipped, then we get to social needs.  Help me get along better with others, for belonging to a social group is a real resource.

But back to the New testament.  Jesus performs a number of food and hunger-related miracles.  Okay, there was the water into wine thing.  But you can’t use food stamps on wine, for good reason.  So scratch that one.  But there are least two beloved stories of him feeding many with food for a few.  The fish and loaves thing.

Taking the five loaves and the two fish and looking up to heaven, he gave thanks and broke the loaves. Then he gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the people. They all ate and were satisfied, and the disciples picked up twelve basketfuls of broken pieces that were left over. (Matthew 14:19-20)

Elsewhere, Jesus helps men catch an abundance of fish–a miraculous amount following hours of failed attempts by the experienced fishermen.  And at the last supper, Jesus informs his followers that their high spiritual act will be to honor him by eating his body and drinking his blood.  Weird?  Not really.  First, there are the numerous religious precedents that this idea is based upon.  It didn’t come out of nowhere.  Second, we have this mundane verity: Religion and food are intertwined because religion is a human invention, fully reflecting the concerns of an intelligent species of primate.

[cartoon thanks to atheistcartoons.com]

[click image to enlarge; cartoon thanks to xkcd.com]

[cartoon thanks to treelobsters.com]

I remember watching an episode of Penn and Teller’s HBO series “Bullshit!” and reacting to something Penn Jillette said with an enthusiastic “huzzah!”

What had he said? That more people should read the Bible. Because we need more atheists.

Which made sense to me. The first time I read the whole dang thing through as an adult I was amazed by what was in it. And further amazed that people could consider it a holy book.

But I’m not your average reader. In fact, there is no such animal as an average reader. As new research suggests. In, How you read the Bible is tied to fellow worshippers’ education, Baylor researcher finds, I read:

Regardless of a person’s educational background, he or she is less likely to approach the Bible in a literal word-for-word fashion when surrounded by a greater number of church members who went to college, according to a Baylor University sociology researcher.

Oh. So blunt familiarity with the Bible may not help liberate folk. Notice that the finding was not about the individual’s education level, but that of their peers. Social environments matter.

For me this reinforces the idea that atheists and humanists need to speak up more. Why? We are members of many social groups. And a social group can influence the thinking of others, even if it is ever so subtly.