Learning to Listen: Reflections from Romans 14

The Meat of the Matter

This week we found ourselves in Romans 14, a chapter where Paul wades into a very human debate: those who eat meat and those who eat only vegetables. As someone who has been a vegetarian for over a decade, it felt like the right moment to share a bit about my own choices—not because I want to convert anyone, but because I believe our stories can help us understand each other better.

Now, Paul does take a bit of a jab here: "the one whose faith is weak eats only vegetables." Come on, Paul! But there's more happening in this passage than dietary debate. It's a window into how we live together in difference.

Why I Chose This Path

So, why am I a vegetarian? There are a few reasons that have shaped my journey.

First, health. Like many families, we began reevaluating our diet. North Americans tend to eat a lot of red meat, and moderation has never been my strong suit. I'm an Enneagram Eight—I go all in. So instead of cutting back, I committed fully. And over time, I felt good. There was an adjustment period, but my energy improved and my gut adapted.

Second, the environment. Meat production, especially on an industrial scale, has a massive carbon footprint. That doesn't mean all meat is bad—in fact, smaller-scale, integrated farming can have a much lower impact, even helping absorb carbon through healthy grasslands. Still, most of us could reduce our meat consumption. For our family, this was one way to live a bit more lightly on the earth.

Third, the ethical concerns. While I have no issue with hunting or meat consumption per se, the reality of industrial farming is troubling. Animals are often mistreated, and that suffering is hidden from view. Here in Alberta, ethical meat is accessible. But I didn’t want to invest in learning to hunt or source meat differently. Choosing vegetarianism became a simple way to opt out of an industry that troubled me.

And finally, my faith. I believe in a future—a kingdom Isaiah imagines—where the lion lies with the lamb, and a child plays safely near the cobra. A future where we no longer victimize one another to survive. And if I can live that way now, even in a small way, then I want to try. I have the privilege and means to make this choice, and for me, it's a spiritual practice as much as anything else.

Holding Our Convictions Lightly

But here’s where Paul’s words in Romans 14 come into sharp focus: "Whatever you believe about these things, keep between yourself and God." It’s not my job to impose my convictions on others. It’s not about projecting my values, but about living authentically and sharing honestly when invited.

When someone asks, I’ll tell my story. When someone shares theirs, I’ll listen. Because the real work isn’t convincing others to be like me. It’s learning to accept each other fully, even when our stories don’t align.

A More Well-Rounded Imagination

None of us sees the whole picture of God. We each catch glimpses—through our experiences, our values, our communities. But when I listen to hunters talk about the land, about the respect they have for the animals they consume, I learn something. I grow. I encounter a God who is bigger than my convictions.

That’s what Paul is after. Not uniformity, but unity. A community rich with diverse stories that shape a more sacred imagination of who we are and who God is.

So if you eat meat, enjoy it. Be thoughtful. Source it ethically. Celebrate creation. And if you’re a vegetarian, let's swap recipes. I’m always looking for something new to cook.

But most importantly, let’s keep listening. Let’s keep learning. Let’s keep leaning into the kind of community where love comes first, and everything else flows from there.