A Lenten Treasure Hunt: Fifth Clue

Christy Romero | 04/01/2025

“I am thirsty.” John 19:28

I have always had a soft spot for sweets, especially ice cream. Before the scale monster caught up with me, I used to eat ice cream twice a day. Ice cream and cookies are my weakness. There is nothing tastier to me than a bowl of vanilla ice cream paired with dark chocolate Milano cookies. And the cherry on top: covering it with chocolate syrup. Just thinking about it makes my mouth water. Of course, now I must content myself with an ice cream treat just once a week, and pay the penalty the next day by walking four miles to burn off the calories. Oh, if only I could return to those blissful days when I did not have to count calories, when eating anything I craved did not have the slightest effect on my waist. Of course, I had no idea at the time that eating just for the sake of eating was a sin. How could eating possibly be a sin? After all, eating is a basic necessity. But when we eat in excess, we are committing one of the seven capital sins, the sin of gluttony.

Bishop Sheen defines gluttony as “an inordinate indulgence in food or drink.”[1] The word “gluttony” derives from the Latin verb “gluttire,” which means "to gulp down or swallow.” Eating is not considered a sin as long as we eat in moderation. If we eat what we need in order to survive, then we are using food for what it was intended, which is to fulfill one of our most basic needs. But if we eat or drink excessively, just for pleasure, then eating and drinking become gluttony. According to Sheen, “it is sinful because reason demands that food and drink be taken for the necessities and conveniences of nature but not for pleasure alone. Gluttony may manifest itself either in taking more than is necessary, or in taking it at the wrong time, or in taking it too luxuriously.”[2]

Throwing away food is also a sin. When I was a child, my soft spot for sweets did not apply to healthy foods. I was a very picky eater. This was especially problematic in Cuba, my birth country, where I did not have the luxury of choosing what I wanted to eat. I had to eat what was available. My father did not allow me to get up from the table until I had cleaned my plate. I could not even leave a grain of rice on my dish. This was hard for me, especially when it came to beef. I just could not swallow it. I would make circles on my plate with my fork and move the food from side to side. This would infuriate my dad, who would tell me that the poor children in China would give anything to have a plate of hot food like I had every day. After staring at my plate for two hours on one particular night, I asked my father, “Why don’t you just send the food to the children in China?” I don’t remember ever seeing my father so upset with me. Let’s just say that I never again dared respond to him with such a smart and foolish remark.

When Jesus uttered His fifth set of words from the cross, “I thirst” (John 19:28), He was atoning for our sin of gluttony. But His reparation for this sin began long before the cross. It began in a stable when Mary and Joseph were rejected because there was no room at any inn. On that night, they did not have the luxury of a comfortable bed or a hot plate of food. Our Lord had to be born among barn animals because everyone turned their backs on Him. He was laid in a manger, which typically holds hay or grain for animals to eat. He became the bread that we would eventually consume in the Eucharist. And at the cross, “He lets fall from His lips the shortest of the seven cries from the cross and the one which expresses the keenest of all human sufferings in reparation for those who have had their fill: ‘I thirst.’”[3]

Jesus’ fifth set of words from the cross refers to more than a simple need to drink liquid. Most saints tell us that His real thirst is for our souls. He thirsts for our salvation. St. Thomas Aquinas is one of many saints that has written about this. He tells us that Jesus’ thirst expresses His “ardent desire for the salvation of the human race.”[4] St. Teresa of Calcutta, reflecting on Jesus’ words from the cross, said: “At this most difficult time He proclaimed, ‘I thirst.’ And people thought He was thirsty in an ordinary way and they gave Him vinegar straight away; but it was not for that thirst; it was for our live, our affection, that intimate attachment to him, and that sharing of His passion. He used, ‘I thirst,’ instead of ‘Give Me your love’… ‘I thirst.’ Let us hear Him saying it to me and saying it to you.”[5]

Yes, Jesus thirsts. He thirsts for our love. He thirsts for us to give our lives to Him. He thirsts for us to place Him first, above every other thing. He thirsts for us to make Him our priority. He thirsts for us to dedicate our time to serving His kingdom. There is so much that we can do for the love of Christ, and we are constantly turning our backs to Him. We are always finding excuses, and Jesus always comes last. He gave His life for us, and yet He is left thirsting for us to give Him just a fraction of our time. Bishop Sheen writes that, when Jesus cries, “I thirst” from the cross, He “thirsts for us not because He needs us for His happiness, but because we need Him for our happiness.”[6]

The fifth clue that will lead us to the treasure is to learn to take control of our eating rather than allowing food to control us.

The antidote for gluttony is temperance or moderation. When we exercise self-restraint, we begin to find our greatest pleasure in God: “O taste and see that the Lord is good; happy are those who take refuge in him” (Psalm 34:8). Gluttony is our attempt to fill the emptiness in our heart when God is not present. When we discover the pleasure found in God, our other desires begin to melt away.

This year, I decided to give up desserts for Lent. It’s been quite difficult, especially when we go out to dinner with friends. I gave them up, but the rest of the world didn’t. I have been close to succumb to temptation a few times, but what is helping me stay strong is that I simply cannot imagine going to confession and telling the priest: “Father, forgive me for I have sinned. I am addicted to ice cream, cookies and chocolate syrup.”

References:

[1] Fulton J. Sheen, “The Seven Capital Sins,” (New York: Alba House, 2001), 49.

[2] Ibid., 49.

[3] Ibid., 53.

[4] St. Thomas Aquinas, “Lectura super Ioannem” (Commentary on the Gospel of John).

[5] Joseph Langford, “Mother Teresa’s Secret Fire” (Huntington, Indiana: Our Sunday Visitor, 2008), 281-2.

[6] Fulton J. Sheen, “The Seven Capital Sins,” (New York: Alba House, 2001), 60.