God may be in the details, but to Gwen Shamblin, he is also in the refrigerator. And the food court. And McDonald's. But if you just look for him, and listen to him, and love him, she says, he will keep you virtuous and protect you from overeating.
Such is the philosophy behind Ms. Shamblin's Weigh Down Workshop Inc., the group she founded 12 years ago that she says has helped thousands slim down.
Now, with a program called "the Last Exodus,'' she is taking her message to children, 15 percent of whom are obese nationwide. The eight-week class is geared toward people 8 to 28 and, for $125, includes prayer, lectures, motivational speeches, and, of course, Bible study. About 500 classes have been held since the program began in September. Some participants are members of the Remnant Fellowship, the church Ms. Shamblin started in 1999 and which she says has about 1,000 congregants across the country and sends Webcasts of sermons to 115 sites.
Her religious beliefs, particularly her rejection of the notion of the Trinity, have stirred controversy.
"We all worship something," said Ms. Shamblin, a registered dietician who believes gluttony is a moral failing. "My goal is to teach people how to transfer this adoration into a relationship with God.''
Timothy Morgan, deputy managing editor of Christianity Today, said: "Gwen is an enormously dynamic and charismatic person. The scholars would say that she defers to a teaching that was labeled heretical centuries ago. That's why the Weigh Down Workshop isn't in most churches anymore.''
Last week, officials investigating the death of an Atlanta 8-year-old whose parents were members of Remnant Fellowship raided her office in Franklin, Tenn. The parents were charged in December with murdering the boy. "A lot of our evidence is that they disciplined their children in ways the church recommended," said Cpl. Brody Staud of the Cobb County, Ga., police. "It's possible that these two parents took what they learned to the extreme."
While the church encourages spanking as discipline, Ms. Shamblin said she had nothing to do with the Atlanta case. "I can't be responsible for what goes on elsewhere," she said, adding that she had given the parents money for their defense.
Weigh Down is one of dozens of religion-based approaches to weight loss, including Thin Within and Prism; books like "What Would Jesus Eat?" by Don Colbert (Thomas Nelson, 2002), and doctors like Dr. Carlos Canale, a Seventh-day Adventist and gastroenterologist who runs the Freedom Weight Loss Program, in Turlock, Calif.
But Weigh Down alone has a program specifically for young people.
On a recent humid evening, 26 children and a few parents gathered at the Weigh Down headquarters.
"Just thank God that you can see this stuff,'' said Ms. Shamblin's son, Michael, who runs Last Exodus with his wife, Erin; his sister, Elizabeth Hannah; and her husband, Brandon. "You all are blessed." Ms. Hannah is tiny, but both she and her brother have been 35 pounds heavier, for which she is grateful. "I think God let us be fat so we would have mercy for these children," she explained.
After a brief prayer, the children were invited to give testimonials, a staple of Weigh Down.
God, for example, has removed what Ms. Shamblin calls "25 pounds of greed" from Amanda Eikenerry, 13; 15 pounds from her 11-year-old sister, Aimee; and 10 pounds from 8-year-old sister, Ashley. Andy Sorrells, 26, is 253 pounds lighter Applause all around.
Next they watched a video, which featured more testimonials and a lot of Ms. Shamblin, who outlined specif ics of the program. She does not believe in counting calories or fat grams; she is not concerned with carbohydrates. Nor does she advocate exercise. "It puts a burden on their little heads," she said. Ms. Shamblin distinguishes between head hunger, which she says strikes when a person is not hungry but eats anyway, and genuine hunger. How to tell the difference? By waiting for the "growl of hunger" - a burning, hollow sensation under the rib cage that one boy likened to the sound of a "mean Chihuahua." For those reaching for cookies when there is not a rumble, she advises Bible reading.
"God wants you to end your enslavement to food and be slaves to righteousness," said Ms. Shamblin, who often uses slave metaphors. (The adult program is called "Exodus Out of Egypt.")
Carole Lewis, national director of another religion-based diet program, First Place, with over 12,000 groups worldwide, is not a fan of "the Last Exodus.'' "You don't want the child to feel punished because they're overweight,'' said Ms. Lewis, who hopes to start a program for families. "The problem usually comes from within the family."
First Place recommends Scripture reading and memorization of Bible passages, but unlike Weigh Down, it promotes the four food groups and encourages exercise. Ms. Lewis is especially critical of Ms. Shamblin's notion that bingeing or even just plain overeating is tantamount to sinning.
"I don't want to put more guilt on people who are already overburdened with guilt,'' Ms. Lewis said. "I believe being overweight is a fleshly problem with a spiritual solution. I know a lot of wonderful, godly people who are overweight."
Victoria Moran, author of "Fit From Within" (Contemporary Books, 2002), said: "Inner change is absolutely essential for lasting change of any habits. What's tricky is when someone believes their way is the only way. For example, 'Jesus helped me not eat today.' Then the next day, 'Today I had two candy bars.' So who's at fault? Is Jesus not the Lord of my life, or am I this horrible awful sinner? The kid will probably think the latter."
Ms. Shamblin is philosophical about the criticism. "These kids have bright eyes and a different lease on life. They don't focus on the self anymore and it's a beautiful thing."
Eleven-year-old Nicholas Zanoni, who attends Weigh Down and Remnant Fellowship meetings with his family near Milwaukee, is a believer.
"I have only lost about 10 pounds, but if it wasn't for the message, I guarantee I would have eaten my way to a good-size little kid," Nicholas said. "I'm working on losing more weight. It's all God, really - he'll tell me the weight he wants me to be.''