I suspect that “comfort food” might better be called “nostalgia food.” There is, after all, nothing particularly comforting about macaroni and cheese, or meatloaf. The value in the food isn’t in the greatness of the taste, but the memories the taste brings back. This, we think, mostly subconsciously, is what I used to eat, back in the day, when things were better. Which is why we have not just comfort food but comfort television, comfort music, even comfort memories. Almost anything we experienced when we are young, if it can be reasonably accurately recreated, can be a source of great comfort for us.
My theory is that the attraction for such things, indeed for nostalgia in general, isn’t necessarily that overall our lives were better then than they are now. Rather it is because we were younger then than we are now. Refining the point still further, what we long for in our youth is, in my judgment, a lessening of the burden of responsibility. Of course when we were young didn’t we look forward to growing older that we might enter into greater liberty, greater ability? What we didn’t realize was that coming into our lives at the same time was the weight of adulthood. Liberty and responsibility are inseparably bound.
A week or so ago I had a classroom of students bemoaning the term papers that stood between them and the end of the semester. When I replied wistfully, “I remember when I had papers to write” they thought I was rubbing it in, gleefully announcing my freedom from papers. What I really was trying to communicate is that I remember when getting papers done was about all I had to worry about. It’s not that we resent being grown-ups. It’s not that we want to embrace irresponsibility. Rather we just miss walking freely, without the burden.
The good news is that we will one day so walk. Nostalgia, at its deepest, is longing for Eden, a hunger to get back to the garden, the lost paradise that haunts us, veiled by the mists of the ages. Our story reaches its climax and its denouement right back where it all began, only better. In Eden we walked with God in the cool of the evening, at peace and beloved by Him and each other. In eternity we will do the same. In Eden we were naked and unashamed. In eternity we will be the same. In Eden the war had not yet started. In eternity it will be fully and finally won.
The good news is that all of this has already been won. What ought to comfort me is not this food or that music, but the gospel truth that Jesus is already on the other side. He is the first-born of the new-creation, and is blazing a trail for His bride that we might follow Him there. When we are together again we will not eat mac and cheese but bread and wine, feasting with the Lamb, our Husband. Lord, teach me to rest today in Your sure promises for tomorrow.