The Cross and the Cleaver. Where Heaven and Earth Meet
Part I – Introduction
Let me begin with story. It was show-and-tell at school, and this time students were to bring an object associated with their faith tradition. And it went like this:
My name is Samir, I am a Muslim, and this is a prayer mat.
My name is Alice, I am Catholic, and this is a rosary.
My name is Levi, I am Jewish, and this is Kippah.
My name is Ann, I am UNITED CHURCH, and this is a CASEROLE 😊
Not that we, at St. Paul’s United Church, only eat. While grounded in the classical protestant thought, we have courage and curiosity of the reformers to explore the propositions of post-liberal and progressive Christianity. As a result, our faith is as deep as a seven-layer lasagna, as rich as decadent Crème brûlée, and as strong as Turkish coffee (with God’s love for sweetness) 😉.
Meant as a joke, the story points out to the connection between faith and food. Most faith traditions I am aware of have food as part of their overall identity, in one way or another. Many key moments of our Christian story involve food: the forbidden fruit in garden of Eden, Jacob and Essau lentil stew, manna in the desert, wine of the wedding feast, bread of the Last Super. Food from the beginning to the end.
It is not much different in the normal life. The first thing we do after birth is scream until we are pacified with mother’s milk. We eat our way through life. One does not have to be on the death row to engage n the “last meal” conversation. Even after our death there is often the food at customary funeral lunch.
John Mortimer, in “Rumpole à la Carte,” comically yet somehow accurately describes a restaurant visit: “So we found ourselves in an elegantly appointed room with subdued lighting and even more subdued conversation, where the waiters padded around like priests and the customers behaved as though they were in church.”
Such books as “Take This Bread” by Sara Miles or “Soil and Sacrament – A Spiritual Memoir of Food and Faith” by Fred Bahnson highlight the connection between the sacred and the ordinary (which can also be sacred). Norman Wirzba in his amazing book “Food and Faith – Theology of Eating” writes that: “Eating … is an invitation to enter into communion and be reconciled with each other. To eat with God at the table is to eat with the aim of healing and celebrating the memberships of creation.”
All right. Let’s bring it home. The other day I was working on the worship service that included communion, while at the same time thinking about what to make for dinner. My mind was jumping from hymns to ingredients, from prayers to spices, from serving communion to plating the dinner. Then it occurred to me how many similarities there are between preparing, offering or attending dinner and preparing, leading or attending a Chrisitan worship service (within mainstream Christian practice).
So, I am inviting you to join me on a journey of exploration of intersection of faith and food. I am inviting you to a table, and conversation, where all are welcome regardless of dietary restrictions, political leaning, or whichever team you bat for 😉. Whether you have faith or not, you are welcome, for we all must eat. Coming?
To begin, let us fortify ourselves with some coffee. I learned this recipe in 1992 when I was a monk. The monastery hosted a young student from South America, and he made coffee thus:
-1 heaping tbsp. of instant coffee
-1 heaping tbsp. of sugar
-1 heaping tbsp. of powdered coffee whitener
Mix well, add 50 mL of hot water and stir vigorously with small whisk until all ingredients are dissolved and the mixture turned into thick foam. Top up with 200 mL of hot water, stir once and sprinkle generously with dark chocolate shavings. Enjoy!
Google Play and the Google Play logo are trademarks of Google LLC.
