My wife and I occasionally watch The Biggest Loser (NBC, Mondays 8/7c), a show about the physical
and emotional transformations of people who are significantly overweight and
who undergo intense training and counseling by coaches trying to get them to a
breakthrough.
This show
has been important to me for two reasons. First, I constantly struggle with my
weight and self-image. I’ve always been a large guy, but I constantly wish I
were thinner, more in-shape, and (vainly) better looking. The Biggest Loser is a reminder of the struggle necessary to be
transformed and the hard work that can lead to great accomplishments. The show
is something of a drum-beat that motivates me to get up and get moving.
Secondly, The Biggest Loser offers pastoral
insights into the spiritual and emotional lives of people who are struggling,
depressed, and out of control. They are counseled and pushed to the edge of
what they think they can handle by increasingly demanding coaches Jillian
Michaels, Bob Harper, and Dolvett Quince. Although there is not an explicitly
spiritual overtone to the challenges and encouragement that the coaches offer,
this is most certainly a spiritual program. Its goal is no less than the
transformation of the contestants physically, emotionally, and spiritually. I
do well to witness these admittedly edited transformations; they help me
consider the raw emotional hurt of people that is so often masked at church.
On a recent
episode[1]
the characters faced the challenge of leaving the ranch (the place where they
live, eat, and workout in front of the cameras) and moving into a rented house
where they would have to shop for themselves and develop a workout routine
using normal consumer equipment rather than that at the ranch’s gym. One
contestant willingly accepted this challenge, leaving the routine of the ranch
to test his willpower and commitment once he was on his own.
The good
news is that this contestant (as well as the teammate he took with him off
site) lost a good amount of weight once they returned to the ranch. What struck
me as odd, though, was an exchange between this contestant (his name is
Jackson) and two of the trainers. The conversation[2] at
the weekly weigh-in went something like this:
Jillian: “I’m proud of you…but you did it as a martyr. You did it like you were saying “I have it together; none of you do. I will fall on the sword.””
Jackson: “This wasn’t about falling on the sword. It didn’t matter who I was “saving””
Dolvett…”You’ve gotta save yourself.”
Jillian: “THANK YOU!”
Dolvett: “Jillian’s right; make sure you do things for you, first.”
Let me firstly say that I get it. There is a good tradition
in ministry that self-care and the spirit are related.[3] We
must, as believers, maintain a healthy level of self-care and self-respect in
our developing discipleship to become the people we are called to be in Christ.
There was something about the above interaction that seemed wrong to me,
though.
In weight
loss it is essential to break through the emotional and spiritual boundaries
that people build up to protect their hearts from harm. A significant portion
of The Biggest Loser season is
dedicated to the back stories and emotional baggage of the contestants. After
all, watching people work out for four hours wouldn’t make for a good reality
program. I can attest to the reality of eating to feel better and to get
through stressful situations. The comfort of eating is an easy way to feel
better about a rough season in life.
What
Jillian and Dolvett consistently mean in their “take care of number one” advice
is that in many cases, people who are severely overweight have fallen into a
pattern of self-disrespect and externalization of stress and relationships to
the exclusion of their own health, both physically and emotionally. This is
good, sound advice for people struggling to gain control of their addictions
and self-image.
In the
episode in question, though, the issue was not
about the internalization of emotion and personal responsibility. Rather, the
issue Jillian and Dolvett had with Jackson was something related to his
“gameplay” as a contestant on The Biggest
Loser. Jackson decided to “sacrifice” himself during a challenge that
ultimately sent him from the ranch. His plan went something like this: if he,
rather than another contestant, were exiled for the week to fend for himself,
it would protect some other, weaker contestant from that fate. Further, if
Jackson was successful as an exile, it would demonstrate how much he had
learned and give him some evidence of how he would perform on his own should he
be sent home for good. So there was some altruism involved as well as some
personal evaluation.
Jillian’s
concern was that Jackson’s sacrifice endangered his presence on the ranch and
was an unnecessary risk. Jackson, in her view, should have done everything
possible to guarantee his place on the ranch with the trainers for another
week. The self-sacrifice of the contestant is a bad thing: the trainers’ fear
is that Jackson is still in an emotional pattern of taking care of those around
him before he meets his own needs.
My reaction
to the Biggest Loser situation comes from
my Christian commitment to self-sacrifice. If the life of the disciple of Jesus
is anything, it is the “taking up” of a cross to follow the Christ.[4] There
is a sense of self-sacrifice in the nature of discipleship because there is
definite self-sacrifice in the Incarnation. We must remember, if we are
following Jesus, that he is walking toward the cross.
When
Jillian Michaels berates Jackson for his “falling on the sword,” she is not
attacking the altruistic and kenosis of Christianity; rather she is being true
to her desire for the contestants to deal with their own internal issues before
they address those of their neighbors. She is doing the same thing every flight
attendant in America does – she reminds us to secure our own oxygen mask before
we see to the masks of the people beside us.
From the
perspective of a disciple of Jesus, though, such advice is unacceptable. The
nature of following Jesus is, by definition, the giving up of our desires to do
something other than follow him. It is the giving in to the leading of the
Spirit, the painful giving up of our sinful habits and the turning toward the
new life we are offered in Christ Jesus.
Two issues
surfaced in my mind while considering that conversation on The Biggest Loser. First, there must be room in the discipleship
planning of our congregations to address the internal self-care issues of those
on the discipleship journey. Self-sacrifice is the very essence of the Gospel,
but it does not necessarily mean caring for others to the exclusion of caring
for oneself. Before we can deny ourselves we must know ourselves. Self-care is
the avenue by which the faithful discover their weaknesses, their gifts, their
habits, and their addictions. It is through the contrast of our hearts’ desires
and the truth demonstrated in Jesus Christ that we learn what repentance is. We
would rather not, though. Jillian’s warning to Jackson is as real for us as for
him, if even wrong-headed: we must care for our own spiritual houses lest they
be overrun as soon as we turn our backs.[5]
Secondly,
we must not flee from suffering in the name of altruism. The self-giving savior
did not live, die, and live again to avoid some unpleasant situation. The
incarnation is testimony of just the opposite: Jesus came to a world that
neither knew, wanted, or understood its God and suffered on that ungrateful
world’s behalf. When Jackson volunteered to leave the ranch, he was indeed
practicing altruism by protecting a different, potentially weaker contestant.
However, it was not a choice that prevented his participation in “suffering.”
His exile from the ranch guaranteed a harder path than those he left behind and
risked his eventual dismissal from the contest. In choosing a harder path,
Jackson demonstrated something that Jillian couldn’t see – he was placing
compassion for his neighbor above his own progress, even his “success” as a
contestant. There is far too much in the New Testament about the disciples giving
up life for the sake of Jesus for us to miss the point of that sacrifice –
we are called to faithfulness even through
suffering. When we avoid the difficulties of faith in the name of not hurting
someone’s feelings or in the name of not rocking the church boat, we have
radically departed from the self-giving example of our master.
I’m not
usually one to find much of a theological point in reality television (other
than clear examples of the doctrine of Total Depravity!), but in this case I
couldn’t resist. We must walk the line, much like Jackson, between arrogance
and self-awareness[6] in
our discipleship. We need to deal with our hearts as they are laid open before
God as well as living the self-sacrificing altruism he demonstrated in Christ
Jesus.
[1]
“Face Your Fear,” originally aired on 2/25/13
[2] http://www.nbc.com/the-biggest-loser/video/face-your-fear/n33168/
specifically at timestamp 87.09.
[3]
Among other things, pastoral self-care is essential to survival in ministry,
especially in area dealing with mortality on a regular basis. See Michael R.
Stuart, “Practicing contemplation for healthy self-care” in Chaplaincy Today 28 no. 1 and Sally
Canning, “Out of balance: why I hesitate to practice and teach “self-care”” in Journal of Psychology and Christianity,
30 no. 1.
[4]
Cf. Matthew 16:24, Mark 8:34.
[5]
Cf. Matthew 12:45.
[6]
See Casino Royale, my favorite Bond
movie yet.
No comments:
Post a Comment