Tables of Plenty

CBS's "Food, Faith & Culture" leaves out Christians - What happened to Christian food traditions?

An upcoming CBS "interfaith special" titled, "Food, Faith & Culture" will explore the deep connection between food and faith in world religions. When I first saw the headline I was excited to see a high-profile exploration of this topic. I'm at the tail end of following the Ramadan fast as part of a larger effort to learn about Christian food practices, so I had hopes that this show might help me on the journey, but I was surprised to learn that Christians are not one of the world religions included in the mix. CBS explains:

This program looks at the relationship between food and faith in three world religions: Judaism, Islam and Sikhism. These three traditions are rich and varied, and an interesting way to learn more about what they believe and why.

This ommission may not be as glaring as it appears on the face of it. Perhaps the intent from the beginning was to use food as an access point for understanding non-majority religions in the US. It's likely that the recent Sikh temple shooting shaped the composition of faith communities featured in the show, but the exclusion of Christians is surprising, especially considering the producers:

This documentary is produced in cooperation with the National Council of Churches, a consortium of Roman Catholic organizations, the Islamic Society of North America, the Union of Reform Judaism and the New York Board of Rabbis.

Notwithstanding the admirable efforts at interfaith understanding, I suspect there is another reason why Christians didn't make the cut: American Christians don't have much to offer on the topic of spiritual food practices, especially in comparison to other world relgions.

The Ramadan fast is one of the five pillars of Islam, kosher food is a core strand of identity for Jews, and Sikh's are famous for serving up their free twice-daily vegetarian meals. By contrast, modern American Christians are known to randomly give up chocolate for Lent and occassionally make a Friday pilgrimage to Long John Silver's. Some Christians might passionately embrace Chick-fil-A sandwiches as an act of cultural solidarity, and others might work tirelessly to distribute food to the poor, but with few exceptions, when it comes to food practices as an avenue of spiritual formation, the American church cupboard is all but empty. 

There have been some admirable recent efforts to recover the vital connection between Christian faith and food. One of my favorites is the book, The Spirit of Food by Leslie Leyland Fields. I wrote a review on it here. The book approaches the topic of food and faith through the perspectives of 34 authors who offer personal testimony about the task of integrating their food and faith lives. The chapter by Lauren Winner (an excerpt from her book Mudhouse Sabbath) helpfully illustrates the great opportunity for Christians to recover food traditions, but also the crisis of the disconnect. 

Winner was raised as an Orthodox Jew but converted to the Christian faith in college. She writes with deep appreciation for the kosher food laws she grew up with. 

Keeping kosher cultivates a profoung attentiveness to food...Only after I stopped keeping kosher did I fully appreciate that kashrut had shaped more than my grocery lists. It also shaped my spiritual life. Keeping kosher transforms eating from a mere nutritional necessity into an act of faithfulness.

I can't help but hear a sense of loss in these words, especially in comparison to her her efforts to find Christian food practices that reflect the values of her cherished kosher food experience.

She mentions the writing of Robert Farrar Capon and learning to appreciate that "Food is part of God's creation." She also names Barbara Kingsolver and her advocacy for seasonal eating as someone who has an "intuitive appreciation for the logic of kashrut."

In conclusion she reflects,

For the first time since I became a Christian, I have found myself thinking about what food I put in my body...

I am struck by the reality that her conversion to Christianity did not mean a transition from one set of spiritual food practices to another, rather it was a transition into no food practices and years after her conversion she was left to negotiate food and faith connections on her own. She went from an all-encompassing menu of faithful food choices rooted in communal history to a meagre line-up of freestyle ala-carte options. 

I wasn't raised Jewish, but I can relate to Winner's efforts to reconnect to something that is missing in the American landscape of Christian spiritual formation. I can relate to her loss. I am heir to Reformation-era paranoia about Catholic fasting rituals and also the free-agency of pietistic individualism that makes communal practices hard to negotiate. Like Winner, for the first time since I became a Christian, I am thinking about the food I put in my body and the significance that might have for my journey with God.

After months of experimenting with various food traditions I am hopeful that American Christians can recover and embrace food practices as part of a life of spiritual formation. As I look to the end of my Ramadan fast experience this weekend I'm also aware that Christians have something to learn from other religious traditions that emphasize a strong connection between food and faith. I'll be tuning into the CBS special with that in mind.

 

Our Exploration of Christian Food Practices Takes a Detour Into Ramadan

Our year of exploring Christian food practices hasn't unfolded exactly according to plan. Life circumstances have made it challenging but I'm back in the saddle this month with another immersion experience of faithful food practices.

So far our family has observed the Orthodox Advent and Lenten fasts. We followed Kosher food laws for a month, and now I'm a week into observing the Ramadan fasting ritual of abstaining from all food and drink from dawn to sunset for 30 days.

You may have noticed the other experiences were family efforts, whereas this one is a solo venture. When I proposed observing the Ramadan fast to Nancy and the girls they were a little baffled. Nancy said, "I thought we were learning about Christian food practices. What does Ramadan have to do with that?"

This is a great question and it's hard to anticipate what the lessons might be, but when it comes to spiritual food practices, Ramadan is the most prominent and most practiced of them all. It intrigues me that of the religious traditions that have a common origin in Abraham, Jews have the kosher food laws, Muslims have Ramadan and Halal, but the Christian faith of today has little left of its historic food practices. I hope that exploring and experiencing the Ramadan fast might help me uncover my own faith's food rules. Go herefor more on my little thesis about Christian food practices or to this CNN Belief Blog articlethat has more background on our family's journey.

Along with wondering about faith connections, Nancy also pointed out that this is the best time of year to feast on garden vegetables and abundant fruits at the farmers' market and with sunrise at 5:30 a.m. and sunset at 8:30 a.m. in Spokane, it's about the worst time of year to try out such a rigorous fast. She's got a point but I've decided to venture out anyway. I'm aware of the inconvenient timing of it all, but I figure I've got it easy compared to the folks in Fairbanks, Alaska where the sun will set tonight at 11:19 p.m..

Here are some observations so far:

I can't emphasize enough that the Ramadan fast is rigorous. During the whole Orthodox Lenten fast there where a few days in which we refrained from food and drink all day until we received the sacrament at the evening service at 7:00 p.m.. I remember those as long and difficult but Ramadan is 30 straight days of this most rigorous practice. The first few days were a major shock to the system.

The hardest part is not the waiting till 8:33 p.m. to eat, it's trying to get up before 5:21. I keep setting my alarm clock to 4:30 a.m. with the hopes that I can eat something to start the day, but so far my desire for sleep is winning out over my desire for food.I have a new respect for Muslims who observe it year after year. It is an expression of great commitment and restraint.

I have a new appreciation for the prohibition against public eating during the day in most Muslim countries. Watching the rest of the family eat greasy french fries, ketchup covered cheeseburgers, finished off with huckleberry ice cream at the Ram in Deer Park has to be low point for me so far.

This fast is different from any I've attempted because it doesn't have any restrictions onwhat can be eaten, it just specifies when the food can be eaten. This lends itself to a feast and famine rhythm that's taken some getting used to, mostly on the feasting side of the equation. For example, I ate three Creamsicles the other night for dessert which has led to a new Craig Goodwin life rule: two Creamsicles is more than enough. (Also, please don't tell my daughters I ate three Creamsicles. They tend to be a little possessive of anything in our freezer that you can buy from an ice-cream truck).

I stepped on the scale this morning, just curious about the effects of this fast on my weight, and I was shocked to see that I've lost 10 pounds. I guess if this doesn't work out as a spiritual practice it may have some health benefits. (There is a study done in the UAE that indicates that Ramadan lowers bad cholestorol.)

I'm just starting to learn about Ramadan, but I'm pretty sure it has nothing to do with weight loss and Creamsicles, so I'm left here at the beginning of the journey wondering about the spiritual benefits of fasting and feasting my way through 30 days. That's what I hope to share a bout in the coming weeks.

A version of this article first appeared at SpokaneFAVS.

 

My Take on Ethics of Eating - More grace needed in current food debates

Last week I was a panelist on an Ethics of Eating event at Sante' restaurant in downtown Spokane and today's edition of the Spokesman Review has an article on what transpired. The in-person event, pictured above, was organized in response to a heated virtual debate on Facebook over the fact that Sante' serves foie gras. You can look on the Sante' Facebook page for a run down of the debate. Local TV news even did a story on it. Here's one of the critical comments posted on Faceboook:

You will never have our business/patronage because I now know you serve foie gras. And we will never recommend your restaurant to local friends or out of town guests. In fact, we will tell them about your inhumane offerings and I'm sure they will decide the same, as our friends are all animal caring people. In your quest to serve haute' cuisine and be a Cosmo restaurant, you have shown us that you have made unethical choices to seek your customers. With many other dining options, our money will be spent elsewhere. Shame on you for putting money above the suffering of ducks and geese.

I personally really enjoyed the event, especially hearing from Jeremy and other leaders in the Spokane sustainable food community. There were not any strident critics in the audience but there were some good questions from vegans about the justification for killing animals when other alternatives are available. I explained that I find those arguments a lot more compelling than I used to, although I am not yet convinced. I appreciated that the audience expressed a genuine desire to learn about food systems and the my fellow panelists responded with a gracious desire to inform and inspire people to learn more. I guess the big surprise was that the in-person event was such a pleasant dialogue compared to the rancor and bitterness of the online lobbing of accusatory grenades. The online ethical debate around food has taken on an almost religious character, with the puritans on one side and hedonists on the other.

This is one of the reasons I have been compelled to explore actual religious traditions around food. I have suspected that the religious-like debate around food systems might actually have something to learn from actual religious food practices. We've spent the last four months following kosher food laws and Orthodox fasting rules. We celebrated the end of the Orthodox Lenten fast last Saturday with the midnight Pascha service at Holy Trinity Orthodox church. 

I plan on writing extensively about what we have been learning but there is one aspect of the Pascha service that I found especially helpful for current debates around food. In the Orthodox church the fasting rules for Lent are very strict. On most days there is no meat, no dairy, no oil, no fish, no eggs, and no alcohol. On days where there is an evening celebration of the eucharist the strict rule is that you abstain from all food and drink until receiving the communion elements at the evening service. We followed these rules closely but there is a wide range of observance in the Orthodox church, with many loosely observing the rules and many not observing them at all. One of the ethical questions around these food rules in the Orthodox church is how to deal with the diversity of practice given an ethical ideal. This is the same question that faces locavores, slow-food advocates, vegan evangelists and the rest. 

At the Pascha service I learned how they deal with this diversity of practice as they prepare to gather around tables and celebrate the Paschal feast. Their approach is summed up in their reading of the famous sermon from St. John Crysostom which opens with these words:

If any be a devout lover of God,
  let him partake with gladness from this fair and radiant feast.
If any be a faithful servant,
  let him enter rejoicing into the joy of his Lord.
If any have wearied himself with fasting,
  let him now enjoy his reward.
If any have laboured from the first hour,
  let him receive today his rightful due.
If any have come after the third,
  let him celebrate the feast with thankfulness.
If any have come after the sixth,
  let him not be in doubt, for he will suffer no loss.
If any have delayed until the ninth,
  let him not hesitate but draw near.
If any have arrived only at the eleventh,
  let him not be afraid because he comes so late.

For the Master is generous and accepts the last even as the first.
He gives rest to him who comes at the eleventh hour
  in the same was as him who has laboured from the first.
He accepts the deed, and commends the intention.

Enter then, all of you, into the joy of our Lord.
First and last, receive alike your reward.
Rich and poor, dance together.
You who fasted and you who have not fasted, rejoice together.
The table is fully laden: let all enjoy it.
The calf is fatted: let none go away hungry.

When it comes to sharing in the abundant feast of lamb that follows the Paschal service they make no distinction between those who come first and those who come last, those who fasted strictly and those who didn't fast at all. (See Jesus' parable of the workers in the vineyard for the theological background to this.) My orthodox friends model this approach throughout Lent by not talking openly about their individual fasting practices so as to avoid pride and the divisions that it cultivates. In the midst of the most strict food rules I've ever encountered they somehow manage to offer grace instead of judgment. 

The fullness of the gospel expressed in the invitation to the table at the Paschal service can't be reduced to a simple lesson, but it does offer a provocative vision of what it looks like for a community to gather around food practices, which might be helpful for food activists filled with religious zeal for their cause:

Instead of identifying all the people (or chefs) that they'll never share a meal with, how about a grace-filled invitation to gather around the feast table, seeking community and relationships, knowing that these relationships are the foundation for more ethical practice.

Instead of exalting the puritans and hurling accusations at the unfaithful, how about an acknowledgement that we are all sinners caught up in a fallen food system. 

Instead of prideful proclamations of approved practices, how about a humble stance that lifts up ideals but avoids creating a culinary class system. 

I'm glad for the face-to-face gathering at Sante' last week. It felt like a generous invitation to gather around the table in the diversity of our practices to learn and grow together. I look forward to more such conversations.

 

Where does the Jewish prohibition against pork come from?

There is a fascinating conversation going on around the internet ( in response to Shmarya Rosenberg's article at Tablet magazine where she speculates on the source of the prohibition of pork in Jewish food laws.

In one sense the answer is ultimately that God said so in Leviticus 11 where the Israelites are instructed not to eat certain animals:  

"The LORD said to Moses and Aaron, “Say to the Israelites: ‘Of all the animals that live on land, these are the ones you may eat: You may eat any animal that has a divided hoof and that chews the cud. There are some that only chew the cud or only have a divided hoof, but you must not eat them...the pig, though it has a divided hoof, does not chew the cud; it is unclean for you. You must not eat their meat or touch their carcasses; they are unclean for you." 

Despite the simplicity of this answer to the question, there is all kinds of speculation about how these laws may have emerged in the history of the people. This is true for kosher food laws and all the other religious food laws we're learning about this year.

The common speculation I've heard regarding pork is that through experiences with trichinosis people came to see the meat as unsafe to eat so when it came time to lay down the law, those laws formalized the hard-earned folk wisdom of the people.

Rosenberg points out that the prohibition against pork is one among many prohibitions against meat but it stands alone as the definitive Jewish food law. She points out that despite the Jewish law against eating shellfish:

Archaeological digs in Israel have uncovered ancient biblical-era Israelite settlements where remains of shellfish are plentiful, but pig bones were not found. And even today there are many Jews like my friend’s family who eat shrimp and crab without a trace of guilt but would never eat pork. What could be so bad about pigs?

Rosenberg takes her cure from Christopher Hitchens to explain the exemplary power of the pork prohibition:

In God is not Great, Hitchens notes uneasy similarities between humans and pigs: Porcine DNA and human DNA are very similar, so much so that porcine heart valves can be transplanted into humans; pigs are noticeably smarter than other farm animals; and pig skin looks almost human, so much so that the smell and look of suckling pig and roasting human infants is, according to those who have had the misfortune of smelling and seeing both, disconcertingly similar. And make no mistake about it—many ancient Israelites had that misfortune. Hitchens thought this was the basis for the Jewish taboo against eating pork...

She puts it in the context of animal and child sacrifice that was common in that time and speculates that it was a way to steer people clear of the common practice of child sacrifice in the ancient world. She suspects that sacrificing and eating pigs was a slippery slope to child sacrifice.

Hitchens dismissed Judaism’s anti-pork taboo as a Bronze Age superstition. But was it? Or was the Torah—divine, divinely inspired, or simply man-made—trying to do whatever it could to wean humans away from the perceived need to murder their own children? 

Go here for a fascinating rundown of other possibilities at Andrew Sullivan's Dish. 

image from cdn.greenprophet.com

Shabbat Shalom - Our Month of Kosher Eating

We are well into our month of following Kosher food laws and long overdue for a check-in on the blog.

We had just started to get a handle on the the rhythms of Orthodox food traditions in December when we made the turn toward our kosher January. Our focus is on Christian food practices but as the New Testament and early church history demonstrate, you can't understand Christian approaches to food apart from the kosher food laws. 

We were over in Seattle when I asked my Facebook friends for some tips on going kosher in Spokane, to which one person suggested the best approach would be to stay in Seattle. Spokane does not have a large Jewish population and we imagined that kosher food would be in short supply at our local grocery stores.

We even stocked up at the Albertson's on Mercer Island that has its own kosher deli and butcher shop. They have an entire aisle that features jars of gefilte fish, matzo ball soup, and kosher ramen noodles, so we loaded up on an eclectic mix of items. We drove back across the mountains with our loaf of challah bread and a few bags of essentials, expecting a month of scarcity.

When the day came to clear out all the non-kosher items from the pantry and fridge we were shocked to find that the majority of our food was labeled as kosher. Noel was the best at finding the tiny cryptic symbols on the food packaging. In case you're wondering, here are some examples of the symbols to look for:

The U inside a circle is the most common of the bunch. 

The junk food connoisseur in me was inspired this week to find that 7-11 brand mini donuts are kosher. Just because it's kosher doesn't mean it's healthy.

Jewish dietary laws are known as kashrut and they are derived from scripture passages like Deuteronomy 14 and a long history of interpretation and debate about the details of food preparation and consumption. The biggest adjustment for us has been the prohibition against mixing dairy and meat which has significant implications for the use of a kitchen.

Kashrut requires that you have separate utensils and dishes for dairy and meat, and if you eat dairy you're supposed to wait awhile before you eat meat so they won't mix in your tummy. Some even go as far as having separate sinks for meat and dairy. In order to avoid a hasty kitchen remodel we've avoided meat in deference to our prolific consumption of dairy products. We're getting pretty comfortable with a mostly vegetarian diet.

The highlight of our experience so far was observing the traditional Jewish Shabbat last week from sundown Friday to sundown on Saturday. We dedicated that time to being together as a family and kicked it off with an epic game of Sardines (reverse Hide and Seek). The girls could have played all night and that first-time family experience has been the talk of the house all week.

We broke off the game in order to attend the Friday evening Shabbat service at Temple Beth Shalom in Spokane where we learned the Shabbat Shalom song. Noel and Lily have been singing the catchy tune all week. We're learning that food practices are compelling when they bind people together in a worshiping community. 

I'm still building up the courage to pop open the jar of gefilte fish.

picture from: http://sdfoodtravel.com/?p=142

Anticipating the Christmas Feast - My CNN Article

I have an article that posted today at CNN's Belief Blog that explores what we're learning as we follow the Orthodox Nativity fast. Go here to read it. Welcome to those of you who found your way to this blog in from CNN's Belief Blog. Go here for the description of our food & faith project. Go here to read about our Year of Plenty project and here to read about the Year of Plenty book.

The article title is a little misleading because we are actually going to feast on a lucious ham from Rocky Ridge Ranch tomorrow. A more accurate title would have been, "Why this year's Christmas ham will be the best ever."

The last week has been mostly a strict fast (no oil, no meat, no dairy, no eggs) and we're a bit weary of peanut butter and bread. Surprisingly, the no oil pledge is the most challenging aspect of the fast. Everything seems to have oil added to it. We did have a great vegan, oil-free wheat berry chili last night from Abbey Farms in Waitsburg, Washington. The wheat berries added a great heartiness to the chili. By far the best strict-fast meal we've had. 

In response to the article I received an email from someone associated with the Orthodox Church in America. They write:

This may help you on your spiritual journey if you haven't already discovered this web page regarding Orthodox fasting discipline - abbamoses.com.

Most creatures with no back bone also do not have a highly developed circulatory system. The Orthodox fasting discipline was influenced by Aristotelean thought which considered apparent lack of of blood as basically vegetable in nature, Fr. Schmemann often remarked jokingly in his lectures that shell fish like lobster (a luxury today) was overlooked inadvertently by the monks of the Early Church because of the science of that period.

One can argue that foods which are considered as luxuries should also be avoided during the fasting periods. Orthodox fasting is not just a set of dietary rules, but we should fast with our mouth and with our minds — fasting is a holistic discipline. Giving up certain favorite foods and items is not in our theology.

This month has really gone by quickly and I feel like we've just scratched the surface of the Orthodox tradition. I'm hoping to catch up on sharing about the experience next week when I'll have more free time. 

For now I'm off to prepare for Christmas Eve worship services.

Merry Christmas.

The Christian Case for Veganism

I remarked earlier that our Orthodox fast is almost vegan. About half the week's diet is free from all animal flesh and the other half is pesceterian. Many Orthodox Christians consume shellfish throughout the fast, reasoning that they are animals without a backbone, but we're choosing to refrain from shellfish on the non-fish days.

I've written about veganism and the new food movements at Year of Plenty here and here. I'm not vegan but I am interested in vegan perspectives on food and diet, especially those that arise from Christians convictions. It may surprise some to learn that there are several Christian arguments for veganism.

Some make the case that such dietary choices should be driven by a concern for the welfare of animals that is part of the call to a stewardship of creation. The Faith Outreach arm of the Humane Society of the U.S. is an example of this perspective. Last month they invited Nancy and I to participate in a gathering of Christian leaders in Washington D.C.. We learned about the work of the Humane Society to address animal cruelty and heard professors, activists, and authors make the case that Christian faith compells us to engage issues of animal welfare. Here's a short video from Wayne and Christine who led our gathering in D.C. speaking to a group of Christians in Portland at the Q Conference:

While they don't directly advocate for a vegan diet they argue that Christian faith calls Christians to care for animals which means that problematic practices like factory farming compel a Christian response. I appreciate the generous and grace-filled way that they engage the issues. I think they would say that a vegan diet is ideal with regards to animale welfare, but their goal is not to make everyone a vegan. Rather they advocate for people to make meaningful steps in that direction, and every small step people make is a victory for animal welfare.

PETA on the other hand has a "Go vegan or bust" approach. Their issues page states boldly that "Animals are not ours to eat, wear, experiment on, use for entertainment, or abuse in any way." No exceptions. No room for compromise. And they argue that this is the proper Christian perspective.

Last year I spoke with Bruce Friedrich, V.P. at PETA, about their letter to the translators of the NIV Bible asking them to refer to animals as "he" or "she" instead of "it." Bruce explained that his Christian faith, especially influenced by the writing of Anglican priest Andrew Linzey, is actually what compelled him to conclude that veganism is the logical option if someone is going to let their Christian faith inform their dietary decisions. The only concession he was willing to make is that eggs acquired from hens treated as companion animals might be OK, but I had the feeling that from his perspective even that was dubious.

Unlike the Humane Society approach which couches Christian dietary choices in the wider context of the stewardship of creation, Friedrich's approach is based on the foundational assumption that animals are "sentient beings" who can suffer, meaning that not only can they experience pain but that they "they experience mental pain, including fear, foreboding, anticipation, stress, trauma, and terror." (See Linzey)

The PETA approach is based on a modern logical argument, a kind of dietary fundamentalism that leaves me unconvinced. I'm suspicious of fundamentalisms in general, and this is no exception.

The other common Christian argument for veganism is the Biblical argument which is spelled out by Kasey Minnis today at the This Dish Is Veg site. She highlights many compelling themes in the Bible including compassion, and the apparent vegetarian diet in the Garden of Eden, but her strongest argument is that the vision of God's future for creation is free from the consumption of animals. She cites Isaiah 11:6-9, which I read on Sunday as part of our Advent worship:

The wolf will live with the lamb,the leopard will lie down with the goat,the calf and the lion and the yearling together; and a little child will lead them. The cow will feed with the bear,their young will lie down together,and the lion will eat straw like the ox. The infant will play near the cobra’s den,and the young child will put its hand into the viper’s nest. They will neither harm nor destroyon all my holy mountain

She also mentions the vision of God's future in Revelation 21:4 where "death will be no more."

Minnis sums up by saying:

In a world without death, where even the animals will cease to kill, will humans continue to eat the flesh of peaceful animals? Will the animals’ outcry and pain go unnoticed by a compassionate God? No, these promises for the future indicate a return to God’s original intent for mankind - to live in peace with the animals, surviving and thriving on a plant-based diet.

So if God's future kingdom is a peaceful kingdom where animals don't eat other animals, and where there is no more death, then shouldn't we live into that future today by choosing a vegan diet?

This argument intrigues me more than PETAs, but it tends to do with the Bible what Linzey does with the sentient being argument, reducing the debate down to a few non-negotiable fundamentals, in this case scriptures, and based on those fundamentals concludes that there is only one true option. From my perspective, the Bible and life is just more complicated than that and am unconvinced by the Biblical argument for veganism.

My favorite approach is actually the one that we are currently experiencing with the Orthodox Nativity fast. It is based on a historic Christian community practice born out of a desire for communion with God. It isn't a logical argument for veganism, it's an approach to food that is embedded in a practice of spiritual formation. If Christians are longing for faith guidance on food choices my hunch is that it's in these kind of traditions that we'll find our way through the complex maze of today's food debates. 

Given the rich history of Christian advocacy of animal welfare by people like William Wilberforce and St. Francis, I count the kind of animal welfare promoted by the Humane Society as one of those traditions. 

Is it a sin for churches to give away McDonald's gift cards?

One of my goals this year is the keep track of the intersections of Christian faith and food movements in the U.S.. I was intrigued to come across a blog post by Eve Schaub who was deeply offended to find a packet of materials from a church hanging on her door handle. 

What was it that offended her so much? Was it the not so subtle attempt to recruit her to go to church? Was it that she had her own religious convictions and she didn't appreciate someone trying to evangelize her to a different faith? Was it the waste of paper and plastic? No, what really offended her is the $1 gift card to McDonald's.

After listing off the relatively harmless collection of items in the bag she writes:

Then I got to the coupon for McDonald's. Stapled to it was a card that read “Come visit us on Sunday… Then go for a Sundae!” and quoted the Psalms “Taste and see that the Lord is good.” I kid you not.

I was speechless. The church endorsing fast food? Using junk food desserts as a reward for attending services? When I was a kid we survived the droning sermons and fourteen-off-key-verses of “Oh Thou Who Art Mine Antidisestablishmentartianism” by doodling on the offering envelopes and looking forward to the “fellowship hour” that followed. There, we knew, we could snag more refreshments than we were reasonably allowed while the grown-ups gabbed and drank coffee. That was crap food too, of course....I would argue that what was different was that it was still in the church, designed to get members of the congregation to begin talking to one another, become friends, maybe even form a close-knit community that would support one another….Turning the local McDonald's into the honorary vestibule, to me, isn’t quite the same.

Instead, it comes off more as a cheap bribe. I wonder about the technicalities of this: if you use the coupon without going to church, will you go to Hell? And, if you go collect all your neighbors coupons from their doorknobs before they get home, are you definitely going to Hell?

I'm always intrigued by how those outside of the church view the church. I don't know Eve's current faith involvement, but at least she is observing this particular community from the outside. I'm sure the last thing this church thought might offend was the seemingly harmless gift card from McDonalds, but their little mashup of scripture and fast food does say something about their beliefs. And in this case the recipient found their beliefs repulsive. 

American churches would do well to take note that many non-religious people find a lot of meaning and purpose in life through their experiences with food. Eve says it well in her post:

I don’t know. Religion and food have one quintessential thing in common: they are both topics in whose philosophy one can become so ensconced that they dramatically affect everything else in your life. Which is to say, some people treat religion like their food, and some people treat their food like a religion.

If churches hope to connect with these folks they can't be indifferent about food and food choices. As we're finding with our Orthodox fast, there are rich resources in the Christian tradition to draw from in engaging issues around food. It's not just that Christians need to get on board with the what's popular with food, the church actually has some wonderful perspectives to add to the conversation. 

The Spirit of Food - A Book Review

The Spirit of Food: 34 Writers on Feasting and Fasting Toward God (Cascade Books, 2010) is a wonderful collection of essays by an all-star cast of gifted writers on the connections between food and Christian faith. 

The book reminds me of one of those summer food festivals that feature samplings from all the best restaurants in town. I remember growing up with the annual Bite of Seattle. We would pay an entrance fee to get in and then tent by tent we would make our way around the festival stalls, gobbling up appetizer-sized portions of gourmet mu-shoo pork tacos and blackened salmon. In the same way The Spirit of Food invites the reader in to sample the gourmet writing of Lauren Winner, Wendell Berry, Ann Voskamp, Amy Frykholm, Alexander Schmemann, Robert Farrar Capon, and Leslie Leyland Fields who edited and coordinated this event/book. Interspersed among the more well-known authors are unique perspectives from dozens of others, all organized around the themes: On the Way to the Table, In the Kitchen, The Ways We Eat, Fasting, At the Table of the Lord, and Feasting. 

Given the nature of the book I'm going to approach this review like it's a conversation in the car with a friend driving home from one of those food festivals. Let's call it "Bite of the Kingdom." 

Friend: So how did you like The Spirit of Food/Bite of the Kingdom?

Me: I don't think I've ever read so many tasty morsels of food writing. (yes, the puns are irresistable) Just when I was savoring the offerings in one chapter I was drawn to the next. They did a really good job representing different perspectives on how food intersects with faith. I like that each author was given the freedom to engage the topic from their experience. I could tell that the authors really enjoyed writing on the subject and that came through in the reading of the book.

Friend: What was your favorite chapter?

Me: I'm a sucker for Berry, Schmemann, and Capon but I'm familiar with their work so their chapters were like comfort food that is flawlessly prepared, and tasty as usual, but its familiarity makes me look elsewhere for a favorite. I really enjoyed Amy Frykholm's treatment of Orthodox fasting rituals in which she writes about her experience as an exchange student in Russia where she "witnessed a fuller understanding of the body and soul in communion." I resonate with her desire for this kind communion. Suzanne Wolfe's description of her struggle with an eating disorder was wonderfully honest and served up just the right combination of the sweet hope of hunger satisfied and the sour despair of irreconcilable hungers. 

Friend: But which was your favorite.

Me: Okay, if you're going to make me choose I'd have to say Lauren Winner's reflection on her experience with Kosher food laws as a Jew and the ways her experience with kashrut, as she calls it, might inform her foodways as a Christian. I was intrigued by her statement, "While Christians are not bound by the particularities of Deuteronominic dietary laws, we still may want to pay attention to the basic principle that underlies kashrut: God cares about our dietary choices." In summing up the provocative potential of Kosher food laws for Christians she says, "At its most basic level, keeping kosher requires you to be present to your food." She cites the "logic of kashrut" as she sketches the contours of a food ethic that includes paying attention and seasonal eating. She writes, "Food is part of God's creation. A right relationship with food points us toward him."

Her chapter really got me thinking about what other practices in the Bible and the history of the church might inform Christian approaches to food. It seems like an under-explored area in many church circles.

Friend: Yeah I enjoyed her chapter too. It sure is hard to choose a favorite.

Me: The only downside to The Spirit of Food is that you only get a small portion at each stop on the journey. Many of the chapters left me wanting a leisurely 10-course meal of reading to follow-up on the tantalizing appetizer. 

Friend: But it's nice that the authors provide a recipe to accompany each chapter. I bet you could make a nice 10-course meal from the recipes in the book. My only complaint is that their wasn't a beer garden.

I think food may be the next big topic among American Christians and The Spirit of Food is the most accessible guide yet to the potential of food to shape Christian faith, and a convincing argument that it should. It would make a great Christmas present for your foodie friends. Buy it here. 

See Eating as a Spiritual Practice: Is Food the Next Big Spiritual Discipline for American Christians for more on this trend. 

Eating as a Spiritual Practice: Is Food the Next Big Spiritual Discipline for American Christians?

Rachel Wheeler, Associate Professor of Religious Studies at Indiana University has written a paper published in three installments on the Religion in American History blog arguing that the locavore trend with its farmers' markets, CSA boxes, and school gardens has established a significant foothold in the imagination of American evangelicals, citing recent books on the subject:

There is an equally voluminous output by Christian publishers, though it has gone largely un-noticed by the mainstream media. Presbyterian pastor Craig Goodwin recently published, Year of Plenty: One Suburban Family, Four Rules, and 365 Days of Homegrown Adventure in Pursuit of Christian Living, and Ragan Sutterfield, founder of a farm-school for disadvantaged youth, published a collection of essays entitled, Farming as a Spiritual Discipline. Rod Dreher, a Methodist turned Catholic turned Eastern Orthodox, has written about conservatives who embrace what are usually seen as liberal issues in his book: Crunchy Cons: Or How Birkenstock Burkeans, gun-loving organic gardeners, evangelical free-range farmers, hip homeschooling mamas, right-wing nature lovers, and their diverse tribe of countercultural conservatives plan to save America (or at least the Republican Party); and one of my favorites, Don Colbert’s, What Would Jesus Eat?

She calls both the religious and secular variety of food advocates "locavangelists" and argues that secular locavangelists like Michael Pollan and Colin Beavan "draw heavily – and largely unconsciously—from the deeply rooted American tradition of evangelicalism." Wheeler cites the common ground of an emphasis on the "born-again" stories that dominate the genre, a common sense approach to life that echoes evangelical common-sense approaches to the Bible, and a focus on the conversion of individuals as key to ushering in the longed for kingdom of healthy food, communities, and land.

I find her arguments provocative and compelling but I'm not convinced yet of her diagnoses that recent events like 9/11, the commercialism of the 90s, and recent economic collapse are the perfect storm that has led to this embrace of food practices as a secular and spiritual discipline. I am inclined to look back further on the historical time line to the 1960s for the source of these recent trends but it's true that more recent events have served as catalysts for launching agrarian food perspectives into the mainstream. Her three historical markers are all subjects of the story I tell about our family's journey in Year of Plenty.

While I have some reservations about Wheeler's historical analysis, I completely agree with her philosophical observation that this secular and sacred trend is motivated by a desire to integrate belief and action. She writes:

The writings of locavangelists, of the lefty and Christian Agrarian variety, are rife with professions about the incongruity of belief and action. All the authors considered here write of the impulse to bring belief and action together....So, I think there is something of a widespread re-alignment of values going on, with many people opting to focus their energies on the familial and the local, shunning the plastic and the consumerist, and seeking above all, the authentic, however that might be constructed. Beavan, the No Impact Man, writes: “I want my work to align with my values. I want to write about what’s important. I want to help change minds. The blurb for Year of Plenty (by Goodwin, the Presbyterian pastor) announces, this is the story of “one family wrestling with what it means to re-integrate life and faith.”

Along with her historical assessment, Wheeler offers an observation about an American embrace of "practice." She writes in her introduction of the paper:

What locavores on the left and right seem to have in common is their emphasis on the importance of practice. It seems to me to be a commentary on what many now see as the superficiality of the 1990s....I find it fascinating, that a predominantly Protestant country has suddenly discovered “practice.” I don’t know quite what to make of this: it could be a response to the broader political and cultural forces, or it could suggest the assimilation of important religious ideas and practices from other religions. Americans are clearly hungry for practical guidance: Michael Pollan’s prescriptive book Food Rules, was quickly vaulted to the top of best-seller lists. Americans seem to want to be told what to do and many are finding new spiritual rewards in practicing the discipline of eating according to Pollan’s rules. Locavorism may well be the new Kosher, but it is being embraced with evangelical fervor.

This paper raises some important questions: Could food practices be the next big thing in the spiritual disciplines and practices of American Christians, especially evangelical Christians? In a fragmented culture where people have a growing awareness of a disconnect between belief and action, could food lead the way to more authentic and integrated experiences of faith? Given the common ground between evangelicals and their secular foodie counterparts, could food practices be a productive place of dialogue and faith sharing for American Christians who are often lacking generative places of engagement with non-Christians? 

These are all questions that motivate me as our family launches the Tables of Plenty project. For a culture that is hungry for "food rules" I suspect the church has a rich history of practices to draw from and share. I also believe that evangelical Christians, who are especially prone to being trapped in the modern divide between spirit and material realities, have something to learn from secular and religious food practitioners about the journey of integrating faith and action in the world. I'm excited to dive into these issues in the coming year.

You can read Wheeler's paper in three installments: Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3.

Picture: Polish priest blesses baskets of food on Holy Saturday before Easter.