Sacred Food

What is it about food that makes it such a powerful force in our lives?  And isn't it just that... a powerful force?  Don't our lives, our very physical existence, revolve around food?  Around meals?  And isn't it more than that?  More than just energy for the body?

I was challenged once by a book I read to look at ordinary things of life as sacred.  The Catholic faith tradition has named seven sacraments, but this author prefers to look at even a cup of coffee as sacred.  And I like his way of thinking.  I think it is not the cup of coffee that is sacred in and of itself, but the intentional enjoyment of its rich, warm flavor upon the lips of the drinker that creates a sacred moment.  When the one drinking the coffee reflects on the gift of coffee beans and the labor of those harvesting and roasting the beans and the amazing sense of taste, all of a sudden the act of drinking a cup of coffee has become a sacred moment.

I used to look at food through two lenses that I believe inhibited my ability to see the sacred nature of food.  The first lens was that of How will this affect my taste buds?  And usually if the food tasted very sweet or very salty (like my childhood favorite of a McDonald's strawberry milkshake and french fries), I deemed the food quite "good." The second lens developed in my teen years: How will this affect the shape of my body?  And since it was the Fat-Free Craze of the 90's, I tried to prevent my body from growing fat by eliminating almost all meat, cheese, and fats of ANY kind from my diet. I literally stopped liking those foods.  I lived on "fat-free" carbohydrates... Nutri-Grain bars, meatless spagetti, banana bread, apples, corn bread, carrots, bread with jelly (never butter!), graham crackers, bread, bread, bread....

These two views of food left me largely unsatisfied with food.  I could not understand why I continued to crave more food even after stuffing myself (with sugars and carbs).  It took me years to learn that my body was telling me that it was still hungry, hungry for other fuels such as fats, proteins, and vitamins.  Food became my enemy... a wild animal that I must control lest I grew huge and unattractive.  I tried skipping meals.  I tried making myself throw up when I could not restrict my eating.  I compared what I ate to everyone around me. I thought about food ALL the time.  It was a terrible way to live.  

A nutrition class during my freshman year of college began shaping my understanding of how food functions in the body.  There I learned that we need fat in our diet to burn the sugar and carb calories.  I began eating a varied diet and found that I felt much more satiated and did not blow up into a balloon (I actually lost weight).  When I became a mother, I began paying attention to which foods lined my pantry.  All of a sudden, I didn't want to buy milk with added growth hormones (could this send my innocent child into early puberty?) or produce with chemicals sprayed all over them (could this cause cancer in that perfect little body some day?)  Over the last few years it is safe to say I have developed a passion for nutrition.  I now find it fascinating and fulfilling to discover which foods our bodies were meant to eat and how to prepare them in delicious ways. 

My food lenses have changed. I now desire to eat real food, food that nourishes my body, causing it to feel healthy, energetic, and strong.  Afterall, if what I ingest is not nourishing my body, can I really call it food?  Isn't the very definition of food something that nourishes?  And isn't this physical nourishment a sort of sacrament?  I now find it a near holy act to sit down before a table of garden greens, homemade soup, and fresh-baked muffins and share in a nutritious, delicious meal with loved ones.  

There is something also in the preparation of food that makes it sacred.  A beautiful circle of creativity is involved to bring food to the table. Foremost, our Creator has graciously created an earth to sustain--to nurture--human life.  Think of the many kinds of meat, the vegetation, the vines which produce fruit and berries, the bees which produce honey, the cattle which produce milk, the birds which produce eggs, the trees which produce nuts and syrup, and the oceans which produce fish.  Then there is the faithful nurturing of the earth which we owe our gratitude to the farmers (especially to those who farm in a manner that respects the earth and human life).  And finally there is the love, time and creativity given by the hands of those who prepare the food into tasteful dishes... into food that nourishes, pleases, and satisfies.

While attending a spiritual retreat in West Virgina last summer, I was struck by the simple yet profound blessing the retreat leader gave before our meals.  It went something like this:

"We give thanks to God, to the earth, and to the hands that prepared this food."

I wonder where else we might see the Sacred if we looked more intently.



For a documentary on the problem with our American processed foods, click here.  For a list of 12 of the highest contaminated fruits and vegetables, click here.  To learn more about grassfed animals, click here.  For an excellent blog about cooking with local, fresh ingredients, click here.  And for a great cookbook on eating what's in season, click here.

Resolving to Read

I love making New Years Resolutions.  Some only last so long, such as the annual resolution to go to bed earlier and wake up earlier.  Others have been almost life-changing, such as when a few years ago I resolved to "giving up TV" except for watching The Office, the only show that Jarred and I both shared in common.  I realized that I had become addicted to wasting time watching "reality shows" on a screen rather than living in reality.  It was then that I became a reader and found other more important things to do in the evening.

So this year one of my resolutions is to read one hour a day.  I have a long list of books waiting to be read as well as a large pile gifted to me for Christmas.  I cannot wait to delve inside their covers and get lost in the novel my brother gave me.  But I am especially looking forward to reading some of the non-fiction books given me.  There are so many amazing people whose lives have created beautiful, inspiring stories--stories that continue to inspire new stories in new people.

Since I am trying to live with a greater global perspective, I want to read stories outside the walls of my familiar territory.  I want to learn more about the movers and shakers of world history, not just of American history.  I want to learn from those outside of my own religious upbringing.  I want to learn from those whose economic and social and ethnic backgrounds differ from my own.

I am beginning with one of my Christmas books from my mother-in-law, Where There is Love, There is God, words and teachings from Mother Teresa, edited by Brian Kolodiejchuk, M.C.  Here is a life of a devoted Catholic nun, an Albanian woman who spent most of her life ministering to the poorest of the poor in Calcutta, India. Though I have only read the first chapter, I am already amazed by this woman's love for God, her simplicity, and her love for all people.  This woman's close connection to the Source of Love enabled her to see God's imprint on every human being, even the Hindu Indians with whom she lived.

Mother Teresa did not believe that everyone was called to Calcutta as she was, though thousands of Missionaries of Charity, sisters and brothers, were spread around the world at the time of her death, loving the poorest of the poor just as she had.  She believe everyone ought to find their own Calcutta.

There was once a man from Holland who came to her and told here that he had a lot of money.  She told him that she didn't need his money.  He asked if he should sell his big house and his expensive car.  She told him, "No.  But what I want you to do is to go back and see some of the many lonely people that live in Holland.  Then every now and then, I want you to bring a few of them at a time and entertain them.  Bring them in that big car of yours and let them enjoy a few hours in your beautiful house.  Then your big house will become a center of love--full of light, full of joy, full of life" (Where There is Love, There is God, p.28).

So at the start of this New Year, I am asking myself what does it look like for me, for you, to create "centers of love"?  In our own homes? In our own communities?  In the larger world?

Christmas at the Nursing Home

 Christmas... how quickly it comes and goes.  We're pretty good at fitting "it" all in, though, aren't we?  We squeeze in each party and family dinner into our calendars; we dig out our favorite cookie recipes; we scour the web and the weekly fliers for the best sales; we put up the lights and tree, wrap presents, send cards and scratch off our to-do lists with frenzied diligence.

Something I think we are not very good at, however, is being present in the moment. We allow our days to whirl by in a flurry, qualifying them by what quantity of items we were able to check off.  Some never learn this art of slowing down.  Often it takes a terminal illness, a literal dying of the body, to place life into perspective, to re-evaluate our priorities, to slow down and savor moments.  

I was given this very opportunity to slow down the week before Christmas.  The children from our church had partnered with a local elementary school in Reading to make Christmas cards for nursing home residents  in West Reading.  My six-year-old Jaida and I joined some other children and parents in Christmas-caroling, handing out cards, and visiting many sick and dying people.  Nothing quite puts things in perspective than visiting with people who are bed-ridden, many of whom have almost completely lost their minds.  These tender souls are totally dependent upon another's care.  They have no ability to go shopping, bake cookies, or visit loved ones.  They can only hope that someone will remember and come to visit them.

I am still savoring a few of the moments that really touched my heart that day:

The handful of elderly women who burst into tears at the sight and sounds of little children.  

The man in the wheelchair with his broad smile and the twinkle in his eye who kept calling out to us, "Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!  And don't let the bed bugs bite!" 

The woman who looked to be asleep but who sang along the words to our carol.  

The mother in our group who willingly lifted up her toddling daughter to be kissed by a doting stranger.  

The other mother in our group who connected to a woman by the name of Mary, promising to visit her again the next week, because neither of them have connections to their families.

Then there was the elderly Haitian man who told Jaida and I this was his only Christmas card and who literally came alive when I began asking him about his country and what he used to do there.  He worked for UNICEF back in the day, educating his people about how malaria is contracted and teaching them how to spray their homes with insecticide and use mosquito nets.  Then he gave me a most precious gift.  He asked if he could sing a Haitian Christmas carol, Papa Noel, which tells the story of an orphan boy asking why Father Christmas takes toys to other children but not to him.  The sad French tune and sincere look in his eyes seeped into my heart, and I wished to free this bright mind from the chain of his broken body.  He talked on and on, willing us not to leave, and I was amazed how my daughter continued to stand on her tired legs as if she knew this was a sacred moment.

The visit to the nursing home was as much a blessing to my soul as I hope it was to the dear people who are still living there.  I left reminded not to take my health, my home, or my loved ones for granted.  And I was reminded that it is better to give than to receive.

What moments are you still savoring from the Christmas season?

Fair Trade Friday - Christmas!!!

I read this post by Rachel Held-Evans, and I was inspired to make a similar "Favorite Things" list, but I think I'll stick to a Top Seven.  Please check out Rachel's post, however, because she promotes a lot of great organizations and ideas!  

For starters, I really love giving gifts, but I really hate excess, waste, and exploitation.  (I get almost sick to my stomach when I think about our electronics industry helping to fuel the war in the Congo.)  So for me the solution to that problem is to find gifts that make a difference... you know something that is fair-traded or hand-made or comes from recycled material.  And there are oodles and oodles of great, meaningful gifts out there!  I'm going to share some of my favorite fair-trade products right here:

1. Punjammies!!!  These are bright, colorful, textured pajama pants for women made by women who are rebuilding their lives after being rescued from a life of forced prostitution.  The organization that empowers these brave women is called International Princess Project; isn't that a great name!  By the way, if you place an order by the end of the day, you will get 40% off your entire order (enter this code: friendsofIPP)!  And they are offering Free Shipping through the rest of December.  So what are you waiting for?  Go buy some Punjammies!

2. Hearts 4 Hearts Girls.  Think American Girl Doll goes Universal.  You have to see the beautiful faces of these dolls!  Each one comes from a different part of the world and has a story about her life and culture.  It's a great way for young girls to learn about other girls and issues around the world.  And best of all, a portion of the sale of each doll goes to supporting World Vision.

3. Ten Thousand Villages.  From fair-trade coffees, teas, and chocolates to handmade jewelry and scarves to home decor to CDs and instruments, every purchase at this store is well-worth your dollars.  The products are all made by artisans from around the world who earn a fair wage for their varying talents and expertise.  The stores are spreading across the country, so be sure to find a location near you!

4. Second Street Thrift Store.  If you live near Denver, PA, you ought to check out this shop, which is way more than a thrift store!  For starters, it looks more like a boutique as it is decorated so creatively with a real vintage feel.  The store sells donated (and some new!) clothing, furniture, and household goods.  100% of the profits from Second Street goes to supporting HOME International, a ministry that provides homes for abandoned girls in India.  

5. Bead for Life.  I've already blogged about this awesome organization, but I can't say enough good things about it!  Even if one does not have the means to spend a lot at Christmas, you can still offer to host a bead party, gather your friends and neighbors, and invite others to purchase this beautiful jewelry and Shea Butter soap and lip balm.  

6. World Vision Gift Catalogue.  This is one of our family's favorite places to find Christmas gifts.  You know those persons who really don't need another knick-knack, such as grandparents and great-grandparents?  Well, Jarred and I invite our children to look through the online catalog and choose a "gift" (i.e. a share of a well, packets of seeds, two babies chicks, life-saving medication, etc...) that they want to "give" to the grandparents in our lives.  World Vision then sends us cards, explaining how the gift given in honor of our loved one will benefit people in real need.  This is a great teachable moment for our children as they are reminded that some families are just hoping for enough food to eat, healthcare, and the ability to get an education.  

7. Fair-Trade Coffee.  This is one of those purchases that is easy to find and of course is delicious for any coffee drinker!  A lot grocery stores carry fair-traded options, and I believe Starbucks sells ethically-grown coffee as well.  You could also check out Grounds for Change or Equal Exchange.

There are many, many more wonderful gift ideas out there!  I'd love to hear some of yours!  

Thanksgiving Crumbs

"A desire to kneel down sometimes pulses through my body, or rather it is as if my body had been meant and made for the act of kneeling.  Sometimes in moments of deep gratitude, kneeling down becomes an overwhelming urge, head deeply bowed, hand before my face."  

~Etty Hillesum

Do you ever feel like that?  So overcome with gratitude and joy that you could drop to your knees?  The closest I feel to that sort of gratitude is when I am taking a quiet walk by myself, my eyes drinking in the beauty of trees, skies, flowers, sun and my ears absorbing bird songs and dancing breezes among the leaves.  Except rather than bowing low, my head, heart, and sometimes arms reach high up wanting to gather the beauty and goodness of God into my soul.  

And yet days and weeks can go by to the hum-drum of daily life or to the sad tune of heartache without my knees bending or my arms stretching wide in gratefulness.  I'm learning that these long stretches need not be.  I'm learning that the hum-drum days and even heartache days contain their beautiful, even glorious moments, if only I have eyes to see them.  Macrina Wiederkehr calls these moments "crumbs" for the soul, and I love that analogy. A warm, thick slice of bread is most delicious to the soul, such as the moments I am walking amid the beauty of an autumn day, but crumbs can be savored, too.  Indeed, when I take the time to savor them, rather than gulp them down without a thought, my soul is that much more satisfied.

"Crumbs are those small things that the world would toss aside, seeing little value in them.... Everything in life can be nourishing.  Everything can bless us, but we've got to be there for the blessing to occur." (A Tree Full of Angels, Introduction, xiii).

"Being there" or being grateful is a spiritual discipline, a practice that nourishes the soul.  Sometimes I practice this at the end of the day when I am lying in bed.  I think back upon my day and ask myself what "crumbs" I gathered.  Usually, they are the simplest of moments: a snuggle with my daughter in the morning, the sight of the red maple in our backyard, the conversation with a friend which left us each a little lighter, the smell of muffins baking in the oven, the laughter from my children and their father as they wrestled and tickled on the living room floor.  I think back on these crumbs, savoring them, rolling them around on my tongue.  My heart beats stronger with thankfulness, and I go to sleep at peace.  

Thanksgiving may be over, but there are crumbs on the table of daily life, if only we stop to look, to savor, to nourish our souls.  What crumbs have you gathered from today?  

An Everyday Hero

I'm a substitute teacher.  I fill in for kindergarten teachers all the way up to AP Calculus teachers.  I love the little ones, but I find it weird being around teenagers.  I used to think I loved teens and wanted to spend the rest of my life working with at-risk youth.  Maybe I'm too far attached from them now that I'm in my thirties, because my tolerance has certainly waned.  I now find most teenagers selfish, disrespectful, and annoying.  Forgive me, all you brilliant, self-assured, and kind teenagers, who actually look me in the eye, smile, and are friendly to others.  You are in the blessed minority.

The other week I met one of these minority teens who greeted me with a smile and "hello" in the early morning of a first period English class.  Beyond that, this young man actually came up to me at the end of the class to shake my hand (shake my hand?!), ask my name, and thank me for coming in.  And believe me when I tell you this gesture was in total sincerity.

I have since seen Mike (not his real name) three other times when I was back at his high school to sub.  I saw him again today.  The class I was subbing in had a guest speaker, and I watched Mike greet our guest with the same sincerity and friendliness he had also afforded me.  This maturity is just so rare!

I've got to be honest.  Mike is not the kind of kid I would expect to have such poise and confidence.  He has a hearing impairment that has caused his speech to be difficult to understand.  He isn't built like an athlete, and he has a noticeable scar on his body.  He's actually the kind of kid you would expect to be withdrawn, severely self-conscious, and made-fun-of.

We had a few minutes to talk at the end of art class. Truth be told, Mike has been made-fun-of.  I discovered that he is new to the district as of this year.  He moved in with his grandparents so he could transfer districts.  The district he attended for most of his life was no longer safe for him.  He said he had been bullied, and he had taken enough.  And then in an honest and humble voice, Mike said, "You see, I'm not like most boys.  I don't like girls; I like guys."

I'm not sure where Mike's inner-strength has come from, but today Mike made my hero's list.  A bullied gay young man with a physical disability and a strong lisp has learned to walk with his head held high, his smile broad, and his handshake warm.  Yeah, he's an everyday hero.

Where are the Red Tents?

So I came across this book at the library, New York Times Bestseller The Red Tent by Anita Diamant. Actually, it's a little embarrassing.  I came across the book around this time last year but somehow or other it got placed on a bookshelf in our guest room where I totally forgot about it.  When the library notices began coming, I really thought they had mistaken me with this lost book.  I finally had to pay the cost of the book (that's one way to support our local libraries), and here I find the library's copy on my book shelf a year later.  Anyway...

Books about ancient biblical characters don't usually catch my attention, but this one has totally sucked me in.  It's a novel based around the lives of the wives and daughter of Jacob.  This daughter Dinah is mentioned as a mere afterthought in the Old Testament narrative, yet the novel is written in her voice.  I am captivated by the lives of these ancient female characters.  Though there is much I could do without from ancient life (i.e. sharing my husband with other wives, exposure to all of the dangers of the wild, no anasthesia, and very few rights or privileges for women--to name just a few), I find myself drawn to the women's "red tent"- the place they go while menstruating and "hang out" with the other women in their camp.

To clarify, I do not wish for this in literal terms... how awkward and humiliating would that be!  It's what happens within the walls of the red tent that attracts me.  It's the way Dinah, her mother, her aunts, and the bondswomen share their lives together.  The red tent is where they weave together, cook together, braid one another's hair, birth one another's babies, nurse one another's babies, talk about their husbands and sex.  It's where they cry and laugh, sing and dance.  In a word, it's where the women come Alive.  And I believe our modern world would do well to learn the secrets of the "red tents."

What I mean is I believe that there is a comradry between women that is difficult to find even in a married relationship.  I have always believed that women need women.  We need our mothers, our sisters, our cousins, and of course our girl friends.  I am generalizing here, but women are the listeners, the supporters, the caretakers and nurturers of society.  They cook meals when a friend has a baby.  They call and send cards when a sister miscarries her child.  They cry with their mother when she is diagnosed with cancer.  But their tears are no sign of weakness.  No, women have the inner strength of oxen.  Often while carrying their own heartaches, they also help in juggling the burdens of their children, their spouses, their aging relatives, and their friends.

I have been blessed to be a part of many "red tents" in my lifetime.  My mother invited me into her "red tent" when I was still young.  She nurtured me through songs and kisses.  She taught me lessons about life and was my school teacher for six years!  She shared her heart with me--her struggles, her joys, her love.  She shared my aunts and her friends with me, and their examples helped usher me into maturity.  I've shared a "red tent" with a very special group of girls I've known since I was little.  We've shared secret crushes, laughed ourselves to tears, shared wardrobes, braided one another's hair, fluffed each other's wedding gowns, held each other's newborn babies, listened to one another's pain.  And I've had the privilege of joining other "red tents" throughout my lifetime, finding support and encouragement from women in every stage of my life.

But I fear that "red tents" are fading away.  Our culture does not have many structures in place for them.  Indeed our lives have become fragmented.  We now raise children without the help of other female relatives, and what a difficult task that can be! We have almost completely lost certain arts which used to bring us together--quilting, canning, baking.  Not that I am trying to imply that being female means being a domestic housewife, or that those arts only belong to women.  I am only trying to demonstrate how difficult it is to create "red tents" since we live on a fast-track, nuclear-family-focused, individualized society.

I have a friend who could really use a "red tent" right now.  Her husband has left her and her two children.  She is trying to pay the bills, help the kids with homework, do the grocery shopping, work night shift, explain to her children why Daddy doesn't want to live with them anymore... all while nursing a broken heart.  I wonder how many other women are trying to survive life alone, who have not been as fortunate as I to have been invited into "red tents."  If you are a woman, do you have a "red tent"?  If you have a "red tent," who might you open your door to?