dying and eating

food list

breakfast: fair trade coffee with soy milk, two slices of raisin challah bread

lunch: veggie wrap with side salad… more (non-fair trade) coffee

snacky snack: dark chocolate almond bark, peanut butter rice bar

dinner: vegan burrito, gluten-free pretzels, broccoli

where did it come from?

we had lunch at a locally-owned restaurant in cedarburg, wi. my partner (nathan) and i travel pretty regularly (more on this trip below), but we usually stop at highway oases for meals when we’re on the road. you can imagine how many subway sandwiches we go through. we intentionally stopped somewhere local in the village and found that we could have healthy (and still affordable) food.

theological/ethical implications and reflections

my family is in a season of mourning. we’ve unexpectedly  lost several members of our family since september, so we are getting into a rhythm of living that accommodates death. we’ve gathered around gravesides and coffins and urns and pictures to say goodbye to our dear ones… and then we’ve gathered around tables with plates and cups and silverware and food. today marked the fifth gathering for some of us. we are hungry in our mourning.

there is something about gathering around food in the context of death that urges me toward life. we must eat to physically stay alive. our blood and breath mean nothing if we do not feed our bones.  our souls are fed too. relationships are built around the table between those who gather to share a meal. but we cannot forget those worked so that we could eat. 

when we gather to eat, to give ourselves more life, i wonder if our food has meant death for others so that we might live. who grew my coffee beans? who kneaded the dough for my challah? who wrapped those vegetables into a tortilla so that i could eat before i mourned? and… how are they? do they make a living wage? do they get to rest? do they have enough to eat?

we cannot forget the relationship between ourselves and all those living, human beings who have put their blood and breath and bones to work so that we can eat. as we celebrate God’s gift to us in the life of one we’ve lost, we must also recognize the gift of life we receive around the table from people we may never have a chance to meet and love. 

tonight i’m in mourning, but i’m also grateful.

from farm to table, Creator, we give you thanks for the hands and hearts which have prepared our food.