If I loved Jesus more, I wouldn't be fat.

This is the core belief of Gwen Shamblin, who runs an empire of workshops and weight-loss meetings, all based on her book The Weigh Down Diet, which was first published in 1997 and has sold more than a million copies. Her seminars are held in all 50 states, as well as in Canada and Europe.

According to Shamblin, the key to lasting weight loss is to put God before everything else.

"Love God with all your heart, then love yourself," she said in a phone interview.

Faith-based diet books like Shamblin's have been increasing in popularity in recent years, yet most of these books brush only the barest of surfaces when it comes to God, so as not to offend or alienate readers.

Shamblin goes a step further then these authors. Actually, more like an epic 40-day hike into the desert further. She not only embraces the idea of religion as a weight-loss method, she cuddles with it and hugs it tight. Her methods are about "falling in love with God," she says.

To Shamblin, a registered dietitian with a master's degree in nutrition, our struggles with weight loss are actually a spiritual war between good and evil.

Do you ever wonder about that voice that tells you eat a doughnut instead of a carrot? Or thought about that murmur in your head that persuades you to take a day off from dieting? That would be Satan. And he wants you to be fat.

"I know there is a force out there that is trying to get us to join him in doing the opposite of what God wants," Shamblin says. "There's a voice that whispers. He's going to tell you to give up."

It seems Satan and God are locked in an eternal battle over not only our souls, but also our bellies.

In her book, Shamblin softens this starkly good vs. evil approach and instead gently points out that the reason we do not lose weight is because we put too much faith in our food and man-made diets.

When we diet, "You're expecting the food to be righteous," she says. "You are dependent on the food."

We have replaced our worship of God with a worship of overeating. The Golden Arches have become the golden calf.

Shamblin's approach to weight loss is simple: If you start to think about eating when you aren't hungry, ask God for help, open the Bible or sing a song of praise. Say to yourself, "I'm going to try not to eat for the next hour."'

"Wait until your stomach growls," Shamblin says.

When you finally get hungry, say a prayer before you take your first bite. All it takes is a something simple like "God, help me through this meal."

Shamblin says the only vital commandments to follow are to eat only when you are hungry and stop when you are full. What you put in your mouth is not important, since, as Shamblin writes in her book, "God does not care about what we eat." She also tells you not to bother with exercise.

"The only exercise we insist on is getting down on your knees to pray," she writes.

But keep in mind that Shamblin's God had a dutiful son, so her weight-loss program only works if you're Christian.

"The principle is lined up through Christ," she says.

All you have to do to lose weight is convert, she adds. And, really, what's a little change in religious conviction if it translates to pounds lost?

Clearly, Shamblin is a true believer in her process, so much so that she hasn't taken a salary in eight years. She lives her faith on her sleeve, regularly using words like "righteous," which is either a reference to the Bible or a 1970s Shaft movie. She also tosses out old-fashioned ideas like sin, greed, gluttony and lust.

But at the same time she's spouting accusatory scripture, Shamblin plays the sunny cheerleader.

"Tell people I said (the Weigh Down Diet) is the fun-est thing in the world," she says. "Self-denial is the basis of Christianity. Try it and see."

I have to admit some of what Shamblin says appeals to me. In the past, I've tried concentrated prayer efforts as a way to lose weight, but without success. However, when I compare myself to Shamblin — a professional day-in-day-out believer — I have to admit that I was a lackluster amateur at best. Her approach impresses me with its absolute conviction.

But, at the same time, that conviction scares the hell out of me.

If I ignore for the moment her insistence that Christianity is the only true religion and that vigorous prayer can double as exercise, I have to acknowledge that I fear her vision of obesity.

If we accept her logic about fat people not loving God enough, does it then follow that thin people love God more? That sounds a lot like the old belief that fat people are somehow morally and intellectually corrupt. Are we now going to add spiritually corrupt as well?

And that brings me to the question of uncompromising faith.

Shamblin's world is very black and white: People either love God enough to lose weight or they don't. Her "diet" is actually a yardstick of devotion.

What happens to those of us who don't measure up? Are our souls lost?

What is our fate if we give in to the Devil's Food Cake? I know what'd I be tempted to say — "All hail Satan and pass the frosting."


For the past 48 hours, Christine has been trying the Weigh Down Diet, which promises instant results. Follow her efforts on her blog at etastesantafe.com.


Readers who might like the opportunity to talk with Christine Barber can meet her at 6 p.m. tonight at Collected Works Bookstore, 208 W. San Francisco St., Santa Fe, where she will be signing copies of her novel The Replacement Child, which won the first Tony Hillerman prize for a mystery set in the Southwest.