Think of our physical sustenance. It is truly heaven-sent. The necessities of air, food, and water all come to us as gifts from a loving Heavenly Father.
Morals are not the important thing-nor enlightenment-nor civilization. A man can do absolutely well without them, but he can't do without something to eat. The supremest thing is the need of the body, not of the mind and spirit.
Man does not live by bread alone, even presliced bread.
In the Lord's Prayer, the first petition is for daily bread. No one can worship God or love his neighbor on an empty stomach.
Pasture comes before prayer.
The Bedouin live by their flocks without which they have little material existence.
In the wilderness, God's covenant people struggled with a choice between feeding their bellies and nourishing their souls. God provided manna-a breadlike food that fell to the ground during the night-to sustain the wandering Israelites and to teach them how to value His Word more than physical fulfillment.
What does this patch-sewing mean you ask? Eating and drinking. The heavy cloak of the body is always getting torn. You patch it with food and other ego-satisfactions.
I forget most of what I read, just as I do most of what I have eaten, but I know that both contribute no less to the conservation of my mind and my body on that account.
A picnic may well be a metaphor for life. The essentials for happiness are the right company, moderate if sanguine expectations and a reasonable standard of physical sustenance and comfort, the whole being bedeviled by the belief that there is always something better to be had if only one presses on.
... most bereaved souls crave nourishment more tangible than prayers: they want a steak. What is more, they need a steak. Preferably they need it rare, grilled, heavily salted, for that way it is most easily digested, and most quickly turned into the glandular whip their tired adrenals cry for.
If I've got food and water, as long as I can exercise my mind and keep it nimble, then I'll be okay.
Man does not live by bread alone.
Love is not all: it is not meat nor drink Nor slumber nor a roof against the rain; Nor yet a floating spar to men that sink And rise and sink and rise and sink again; Love can not fill the thickened lung with breath, Nor clean the blood, nor set the fractured bone; Yet many a man is making friends with death Even as I speak, for lack of love alone.
Man cannot live upon words, however he may try.
May not men earn their bread by intellectual labor? No, the needs of the body must be supplied by the body.