In his memoir, Walking with Peety, Eric O’Grey recounts how in 2010, he was in a very dark place. At 5 feet 10 inches and 340 pounds, he was morbidly obese. He had no social life, and because his obesity caused too much pain and exhaustion to take his laundry to the coin-operated machines in his apartment, the spare bedroom was piled high with dirty underwear. It was easier to just order new underwear every couple weeks on Amazon. He hated his job as an appliance salesman but had to work long hours to afford all the medications he needed for Type 2 Diabetes, high blood pressure and high cholesterol. Worst of all, his job occasionally required him to travel by plane, which was always a painful, humiliating ordeal. He tried every gimmicky diet, but as is typical, these diets were unsustainable long-term, so he would gain all the weight back, and then some. He went through the preparation process for bariatric surgery, but changed his mind as he didn’t like what he saw as a barbaric, grotesque approach, removing a large portion of his stomach.

But in my view, as bleak as this man’s life was, we haven’t gotten to the worst part of it. What struck me as even more tragic than this man’s grim situation was the way others treated him. Most doctors, after spending no more than ten minutes with him, would just throw a prescription at him, never caring to see his humanity, to enquire into the root cause of his condition rather than just treat the symptoms. One doctor, after looking at his bloodwork, even told him to buy a cemetery plot because if he stayed on his current trajectory, he wouldn’t live more than five years. Perhaps this doctor had good intentions. There are some who believe that “scaring people straight” will motivate them to change, but anecdotal evidence I have read, and personal experience has convinced me that more often than not, this approach just leaves the recipient feeling more humiliated and ashamed, and a natural response is to turn to comfort food to soothe this shame and humiliation. Eric says he officially hit rock bottom after a particularly humiliating flight home from a business trip when the airplane ran out of seatbelt extenders and had to transfer one from another plane, delaying takeoff by 45 minutes. The man sitting next to him was so angry about this that he turned to Eric, seething, and said out loud, “Great! I’m going to miss my connection because you are so fat.” When he arrived home after this ordeal, he devoured two extra-large meat lovers pizzas from Dominoes and collapsed on the floor, regretting that he did not own a gun, or have any pills strong enough to end his life, and praying to God that He could just end his life that night. But God had other plans.

Eric said he was never particularly religious. The only times he went to church were for the occasional wedding or funeral. But that night, he blacked out, and during this blackout, felt what he could only describe as a sense of God’s presence. The next morning, he was still in physical pain, but had a renewed sense of hope, and felt an urge to order a Bible from Amazon, which he read voraciously from cover to cover when it arrived. To make a long story short, God led him to Dr. Preety, who spent an hour and a half with him, treated him as a whole person, prescribed a plant-based diet, and a shelter dog.

At the shelter, Casaundra, a compassionate adoption counselor said she knew the perfect dog for him, a dog who also had a sad past and was morbidly obese. With the intervention of these compassionate humans, and the unconditional love from Peety, who held Eric accountable in a nonjudgmental way, Eric ultimately turned his life around completely. I first read this man’s story in a 2018 issue of Reader’s Digest, but in a similar fashion as John Rawls’s Veil of Ignorance I discussed last week, this man’s story seemed to randomly come back to mind this week. But it occurred to me that this man’s story could be an allegory—if not an outright case study given that his transformation started with a desperate cry out to God and an urge to read the Bible—for how God intended for us to relate to one another. The long walks required to get from place to place and the lack of places to sit to take off your shoes at the airport, and the narrow airplane seats represents a society that privileges thin people and shows no grace to people who struggle to manage their weight, a metaphor for how some seek to create a society that privileges Christianity and shows no grace to people with different beliefs. The gimmicky diets could be a metaphor for hucksters that promise healing to desperate, vulnerable people if they send money, and when these victims are not healed, they are made to feel like failures, that they just didn’t try hard enough or have enough faith. All the people that stared at Eric in disgust or made a point of avoiding him could be a metaphor for the self-righteous, judgmental hypocrites that are the hallmark of Christian Nationalism. We all have planks we need to take out of our own eyes, just as most Americans are either overweight, or eat unhealthy diets devoid of fruits and vegetables that will catch up with them someday. Just because someone takes a vice to an extreme that I don’t understand does not give me permission to judge them or mistreat them because I am not the picture of perfect health myself, and but for the grace of God, I could have been in Eric’s position. How would I want to be treated if I were Eric?

Lest anyone think I am self-righteous, I should confess I was especially shocked by the cruelty of the man sitting next to Eric on the plane. But then I came to the sobering realization that I hate being inconvenienced too, especially if it is on the flight home. I hate traveling to begin with, and judging by the shameful way I seethed in anger one road trip when we got a flat tire that delayed our arrival home by two hours, I must confess that I cannot claim I wouldn’t have been absolutely irate if I missed my connection waiting for a seat belt extender. I hope I wouldn’t have expressed my anger out loud to the obese passenger responsible for the delay, but I am pretty sure I would have been seething, consumed with thoughts expressing this same sentiment, and Christ taught this is a distinction without a difference (Matthew 5:21-28).

The doctor who tried to scare Eric straight could represent pastors and politicians—some well-intentioned, many not—who spend an inordinate amount of time preaching God’s judgment or eternal punishment if they don’t change their lifestyle, or even if they vote for a pro-choice candidate. This is not to say sin won’t be punished one day, but I think it is dangerous and irresponsible, maybe even blasphemous to make this the starting place for our evangelistic efforts, or to presume we know what God’s verdict for anyone will be, especially given how Jesus says that we will be judged by the same measure we use to judge others (Matthew 7:1-2). Also, when you are young, the prospect of death and eternal punishment someday does not inspire genuine motivation to change, just as when I was a child, warnings of heart failure or diabetes someday—I envisioned myself the age of Grandma and Grandpa—didn’t inspire a genuine motivation to change my habits long-term. I would commit myself to a sort of legalism for a few months, exercising diligently and depriving myself of all my favorite foods. It was nice having concerned loved ones, teachers and doctors off my back, complementing my will-power instead of lecturing me, but changes never stick if that is the only motivation behind them. Though this is not a perfect allegory, I think it is still useful in the sense that the temptation toward fear-mongering and legalism is an unfortunate reality that religion and diet culture have in common with tragic consequences in both cases. The downstream victims of fearmongering pastors and politicians may vote as they are told, sit in church every Sunday, speak out on the latest culture war issues at every family gathering, but the dominant emotions in their lives are anger and anxiety. Or, similar to Eric, who almost gave up on the idea of ever being healthy and resigned himself to an early death until God intervened, they give up on Christianity altogether, having been led to believe that following Christ is like being on an extreme weight-loss plan with strict rules, a demanding exercise regimen, no flavor, no pleasure. Make one mistake, succumb to temptation in a moment of weakness and you are a failure.

The doctors who just threw a prescription Eric’s way could represent the politicians and activists motivated by Christian Nationalism who are looking for a quick fix, a simple solution to a complex situation. This is not the time to get into the weeds of the abortion debate, except to say that I believe passages like Exodus 21:22-23 and Luke 1:41 suggest that abortion should not be approached with a cavalier attitude. However, Jesus never directly discusses abortion—or any of the other current culture war issues for that matter—but he says quite a bit about showing mercy for the poor and marginalized of society, and compassion for the physical and mental well-being of women. If politicians truly wanted to make America more Christian, they would champion wholistic legislation that aligns with the teachings of Christ, rather than just competing to pass the strictest abortion ban for political gain.

I am blessed that regarding both my spiritual health and my physical health, I have not needed to transform my life from a place of extreme desperation like Eric, or the homeless person addicted to drugs for whom Christ was her last hope. But even in my comparatively privileged life, I know the joy of realizing I am lighter on my feet, have more energy, rarely come down sick, when I was persuaded by the positive attitude of new friends and the wonderful...

What Walking with Peety Can Teach Us about Our Christian Walk

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