God's Dinner Plans
NEW YORK-
"Consider the ravens: they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouses nor barn, and yet God feeds them. Of how much more value are you than the birds!" Luke 12:24
I am a man in need of deep spiritual nourishment. Alienated and angst ridden, corrupt and vain, my soul cries out for the solace of religion. Here in this city of anonymous faces I have sought out the house where I am always welcome.
The Episcopal Church of Saint Thomas, in the heart of Bushwick, is where I spend my Sunday mornings. It serves mainly people of the Caribbean. But as well as providing the spiritual food of His precious body and blood, Saint Thomas is a source for the transcendentally delicious food of the West Indies.
My third Sunday there, about three weeks ago, was "homecoming Sunday" that marked the end of split summer services. Everyone was supposed to bring something delectable from their country of origin. I remembered this late that Saturday night and stayed up until 3 a.m. baking an apple pie. After the service (which featured a steel band playing the communion music) the congregation went up to the church hall where a feast was awaiting us. There was Dominican food, Panamanian food, Guinean food, Barbadian food, Jamaican food, sorrel (a drink mulled with sorrel seeds and high in antioxidants), fish cakes, rice, beans, rice and beans, rice and beans and chicken, sweet bean pudding wrapped in banana leaves and on and on. It was an ethnic food-lovers paradise. Tables from more than a dozen nationalities heaped with food cooked by natives in traditional family style. All you can eat and the only price of admission was a little spiritual enlightenment. I went home that Sunday feeling truly filled, body and soul.
The refreshments today were not as full-on as on homecoming Sunday, but filling and free none-the-less. There were sandwiches, tasty little bite-sized empanadas, fish cakes and coffee cake. But what sent me home inspired to write was that all three readings this morning mentioned food.
The Old Testament reading from Isaiah was a foodie's eschatological dream text: "On this mountain the Lord of hosts will make for all peoples a feast of rich food, a feast of well-aged wines, of rich food filled with marrow, of well-aged wines strained clear. And he will destroy on this mountain the shroud that is cast over all peoples, the sheet that is spread over all nations; he will swallow up death forever." Isaiah 25:6-8. Having forgone breakfast this morning I found myself yearning for this mountain-top banquet with a view of the apocalypse. I think that if I were translating this text I would have replaced sheet with table cloth.
The second reading was from a letter of Paul to the Philippians. In it he makes an especially poignant statement as far as this blog is concerned. "I rejoice in the Lord greatly that now as last you have revived your concern for me; indeed, you were concerned for me, but had no opportunity to show it. Not that I am referring to being in need; for I have learned to be content with whatever I have. I know what it is to have little, and know what it is to have plenty. In any and all circumstances I have learned the secret of being well-fed and of going hungry, of having plenty and of being in need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me." Philippians 4:10-13.
The Gospel lesson is what I like to think of as the Parable of the Wedding Crashers. The king invited all the illustrious people in town to his wedding banquet. Dinner was ready. He'd slaughtered his oxen and fat calves. But nobody showed up. When the king sent his slaves to round them up the people laughed at them and roughed them up. So after burning down all their houses the king makes an open invitation to everyone in town. Free food! "But when the king came in to see the guests, he noticed a man there who was not wearing a wedding robe, and he said to him 'Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding robe?' And he was speechless. Then the king said to the attendants, 'Bind him hand a foot, and throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.' For many are called, but few are chosen." Matthew 22:11-14. It reminds me of one time in Lake City when my brother and I were visiting my Uncle. We stumbled upon a wedding reception with a keg of beer and attempted to crash it. We were promptly expelled, for even in this Colorado mountain town, we were simply under dressed. Luckily our fate was not as bad as the hapless fool in the parable who forgot his wedding robe. The lesson to be learned? When showing up uninvited to a social gathering for the purpose of making off with as much free food and booze as you can manage, be sure to dress the part.
"Consider the ravens: they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouses nor barn, and yet God feeds them. Of how much more value are you than the birds!" Luke 12:24
I am a man in need of deep spiritual nourishment. Alienated and angst ridden, corrupt and vain, my soul cries out for the solace of religion. Here in this city of anonymous faces I have sought out the house where I am always welcome.
The Episcopal Church of Saint Thomas, in the heart of Bushwick, is where I spend my Sunday mornings. It serves mainly people of the Caribbean. But as well as providing the spiritual food of His precious body and blood, Saint Thomas is a source for the transcendentally delicious food of the West Indies.
My third Sunday there, about three weeks ago, was "homecoming Sunday" that marked the end of split summer services. Everyone was supposed to bring something delectable from their country of origin. I remembered this late that Saturday night and stayed up until 3 a.m. baking an apple pie. After the service (which featured a steel band playing the communion music) the congregation went up to the church hall where a feast was awaiting us. There was Dominican food, Panamanian food, Guinean food, Barbadian food, Jamaican food, sorrel (a drink mulled with sorrel seeds and high in antioxidants), fish cakes, rice, beans, rice and beans, rice and beans and chicken, sweet bean pudding wrapped in banana leaves and on and on. It was an ethnic food-lovers paradise. Tables from more than a dozen nationalities heaped with food cooked by natives in traditional family style. All you can eat and the only price of admission was a little spiritual enlightenment. I went home that Sunday feeling truly filled, body and soul.
The refreshments today were not as full-on as on homecoming Sunday, but filling and free none-the-less. There were sandwiches, tasty little bite-sized empanadas, fish cakes and coffee cake. But what sent me home inspired to write was that all three readings this morning mentioned food.
The Old Testament reading from Isaiah was a foodie's eschatological dream text: "On this mountain the Lord of hosts will make for all peoples a feast of rich food, a feast of well-aged wines, of rich food filled with marrow, of well-aged wines strained clear. And he will destroy on this mountain the shroud that is cast over all peoples, the sheet that is spread over all nations; he will swallow up death forever." Isaiah 25:6-8. Having forgone breakfast this morning I found myself yearning for this mountain-top banquet with a view of the apocalypse. I think that if I were translating this text I would have replaced sheet with table cloth.
The second reading was from a letter of Paul to the Philippians. In it he makes an especially poignant statement as far as this blog is concerned. "I rejoice in the Lord greatly that now as last you have revived your concern for me; indeed, you were concerned for me, but had no opportunity to show it. Not that I am referring to being in need; for I have learned to be content with whatever I have. I know what it is to have little, and know what it is to have plenty. In any and all circumstances I have learned the secret of being well-fed and of going hungry, of having plenty and of being in need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me." Philippians 4:10-13.
The Gospel lesson is what I like to think of as the Parable of the Wedding Crashers. The king invited all the illustrious people in town to his wedding banquet. Dinner was ready. He'd slaughtered his oxen and fat calves. But nobody showed up. When the king sent his slaves to round them up the people laughed at them and roughed them up. So after burning down all their houses the king makes an open invitation to everyone in town. Free food! "But when the king came in to see the guests, he noticed a man there who was not wearing a wedding robe, and he said to him 'Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding robe?' And he was speechless. Then the king said to the attendants, 'Bind him hand a foot, and throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.' For many are called, but few are chosen." Matthew 22:11-14. It reminds me of one time in Lake City when my brother and I were visiting my Uncle. We stumbled upon a wedding reception with a keg of beer and attempted to crash it. We were promptly expelled, for even in this Colorado mountain town, we were simply under dressed. Luckily our fate was not as bad as the hapless fool in the parable who forgot his wedding robe. The lesson to be learned? When showing up uninvited to a social gathering for the purpose of making off with as much free food and booze as you can manage, be sure to dress the part.
posted by Junior Skeen at 3:19 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home