I know that there is nothing better for them than to rejoice and do good while they live, and also that every man should eat and drink and find satisfaction in all his labor—this is the gift of God.
The first spoonful of soup at the end of a long afternoon can taste like the day finally letting go of you. Somewhere underneath the pleasure, a small voice may ask whether this is allowed. Faith, it says, should be about higher things, and liking your dinner this much seems a little beside the point.