Ratatouille

Anton Ego: I don't like food, I love it. If I don't love it, I don't swallow.

Now, that's how you love food.

It strikes me that though I want to say that I love the Bible, I'm not sure that I always "swallow" its words, which leads me to believe that my actions (or lack thereof) evince a mere liking, a shallow reverence of God's Word, and not a love for it.  If I don't consume those words, I suppose that I spit them out.

Still, I want to love it, even as extremely and honestly as Mr. Ego loves his food.

For I know that all real, earnest, unabashed wrestling with each and every word in that book must eventually lead to moments like this:



'Indeed, if we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that Our Lord finds our desires, not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.' - C.S. Lewis