Choking on Greed

One day last week, my oldest son, Michael, managed to choke on a fairly substantial mouthful of spaghetti.

Sitting across the table from him, I could see his face turn red, the sudden desperation in his eyes, the automatic draw of his hands towards his throat.  I was just about to motion to my husband sitting beside him to perform the Heimlich manoeuvre when nature won out and my son rushed to the garbage can and eliminated the offending wad.

After the crisis was past, and the laugh of relief verging on tears had, I did my motherly duty and admonished him not to put so much food in his mouth.  As all mothers know, after a crisis is usually the best time to admonish ones' children, just in case they didn't learn the lesson through experience.

The next day when my son came home from school, he informed me that he had told his teacher that he had almost died the night before from choking on spaghetti.  I asked what his teacher had said.

 Upon noting that my son had survived the ordeal, his teacher had commented, “Well, that's not something you want on your epitaph:  Here lies Michael who died by choking on a spaghetti.”

 Michael, slightly affronted by the mistaken notion that he choked on a single spaghetti and to impress on his teacher the magnitude and seriousness of the situation, informed his teacher that it wasn't just one spaghetti he had choked on but a whole forkful.

 “Oh,” Mr. R. had replied.  “That's even worse:  Here lies greedy Michael who died by choking on a ball of spaghetti!”

And after the crisis and the laughter have faded, there still stands greed, in all its many forms, causing death, sucking the life out of relationships, squeezing joy and satisfaction out of the room, stuffing too much of a good thing into our mouths.

Greed, a subset of fear. 

What if there won't be enough to go around?  What if I don't get my share?  What if he takes what should be mine?  What if I'm not the best?  What if I'm not good enough or important enough?  What if I'm not enough?

Such are the paths of all who go after ill-gotten gain;

it takes away the life of those who get it.

Prov. 1:19 

The greedy bring ruin to their households,

but the one who hates bribes will live.

Prov. 15:27

There is, of course, an antidote to fear and greed.  And where greed requires us to pursue, the antidote requires us to receive.  Somehow, it just seems more “natural” to do the former, somehow even more honourable – at least we're doing something.  Receiving seems suspect, like we're somehow not pulling our weight, like more should be required. 

But there it is:

God is love....There is no fear in love. 

But perfect love drives out fear....

1 John 4:16b, 18a

Let us eat slower, relishing what we have with greater gratitude.  Our hunger will be satisfied.