I walked through the front door of the establishment and entered quietly. I could only hear the sound of simmering soup behind the counter. Droves of people entered daily and came for one purpose—to fill a desire—to satiate their hunger for what cooked in the hot stainless steel bins.
Three servers stood expressionless, waving their soup ladles, as they dished out each patron’s favorite choice of blended herbs, spices and select ingredients. The dark-haired owner observed at the end of the counter. He had an intimidating, almost evil expression. He was motionless in his stance and very proud with the amount of customers he always drew into his eatery.
I made my way to the end of the line and shuffled behind the person in front of me, careful not to deviate from the proper way of approaching the counter. I was very hungry and I didn’t want to be expelled from the establishment due to improper counter approach—No Way! There were very strict rules to follow, and if you didn’t follow them, you were out.
It was almost my turn and I could smell the different aromas tantalizing my sense of smell; my hunger mounted as I waited impatiently. When it was my turn, I noticed a different soup simmering in the bin before me. My inquisitive nature and my extremely hungry stomach spoke out for me—against the rules.
“What’s that one?” I asked, as I pointed and smiled.
Since no questions or small talk were allowed, the owner with the thick accent nearly knocked me over with the words he said in a ferocious tone. It scared me and stole the hunger right from the bottom of my gut.
“No zoup fer you! NEXT!” said the Gestapo.
“Oh, yeah…pal, I don’t need your soup! I can make my own soup. I’m holding your famous recipes…right here.”
I fanned the papers right before his eyes with the intention of retaliation.
“Hmmm, let’s see, Chicken Gumbo, Lobster Bisque, Jum…ba…laya! You’re through Soup Nazi. Pack it up. No more soup for you. NEXT!” I said with satisfaction.
On the opposite side of the television screen, I amused myself while I pretended to be the character, Elaine, in my favorite episode of Seinfeld. As I lost myself in the role, and in laughter, I was taught a valuable lesson and realized that like Elaine, I didn’t need the Soup Nazi either.
I watched as people chose to satisfy their hunger through a man who offered nothing but a temporary way to fill those empty pangs. Their need for his food became an addiction since their desire for more soup always returned. I wondered why they would choose to go back to such a despicable man’s establishment.
The Soup Nazi reminds me of Satan as he tries to reel me into his own eatery. He offers tasty delicacies that temporarily satisfy my hunger. The delicious food is an easy trap that steers me toward addiction. Because of human weakness, it is sometimes a struggle to say no.
1 Corinthians 10:13 states, “But remember that the temptations that come into your life are no different from what others experience. And God is faithful. He will keep the temptation from becoming so strong that you can’t stand up against it. When you are tempted, he will show you a way out so that you will not give in to it.” (NLT) As I rely on that verse for strength, I am confident God will help me.
Satan often tries to draw me in. He struggles to add me to his list of returning patrons. Since I am strong in the Lord, I can break his hold on me when I realize I have to consistently search for a different type of food—soul food. Only then, will my recurring hunger pangs diminish.
To experience feeling completely full, I need to eat in the right place. The Word of God is the only place to truly satisfy those hunger pangs.
No more soup for me! The next time I eat with the Soup Nazi, it’ll be during a re-run of my favorite episode while I satisfy my hunger pangs for laughter.
“You’re through Soup Nazi. NEXT!”