Friday, April 20, 2012

Food for Life

“Food is a central activity of mankind and one of the single most significant trademarks of a culture.” ~Mark Kurlansky, 'Choice Cuts' (2002) American writer and journalist (b 1948)

It was Easter Saturday just before noon. Easter Saturday is a nether world between the somber services of Good Friday and the joyous, Spirit-filled celebration which is Easter Vigil.

We had just completed the second Easter Vigil rehearsal: one with the clergy (priests and deacons) and one with those to be baptized and confirmed. At noon was the traditional blessing of Easter baskets, a Middle European custom.

In the early church, fasting and abstaining from all meat products lasted the entire 40 days of Lent. By the time a family sat down on early Easter Sunday afternoon for their celebratory meal, it was truly something special. Therefore, it became customary for the first food to be eaten, when the fast was broken, to be food blessed by a priest or deacon.

It was 11:45 and I still needed to put on my alb and set up. Out the window of the sacristy, which looked out onto the plaza, I could see the early arrivals already placing their baskets on the concrete wall under the large oak tree. Quickly I pulled my alb from the hanger and slipped it on.

With Teresa’s help, we set up the folding table, covered it with a borrowed lace table cloth, and placed on it the Book of Blessings and a small bottle of Holy Water. Finally, we carried the stand for the thurible (for incensing the baskets) and the boat (containing unburned incense) into the courtyard.

It was noon. The participants proudly placed their baskets on the wall, carefully opening the linen covers so that the Holy Water could fall directly onto the food. Each of the baskets’ contents bore a specific meaning: Lamb sculptures made of butter represented Jesus the Lamb of God.  Red beets, sweetened with just bit of sugar, reminded us of His passion and the wounds He bore.

The bitter herbs of the Israelites and the bitterness of Christ’s crucifixion could be found in the small containers of horseradish. Salt in shakers appeared in some of the baskets. The salt represented both purification as well as the saltiness of blood and sweat.

Linen basket coverings and liners were used to remind us of the linen in which Christ was wrapped at his burial. Hams for joy and abundance, bread symbolic of Jesus, and beautifully decorated Easter eggs represented the resurrection – life coming from the tomb.

The blessings were spoken; the baskets incensed and sprinkled with Holy Water. By 12:30 the blessing ceremony was complete. As I began packing things up, one of the participants came up to me and handed me an ornate gift bag sealed at the top. “This is for you,” was all he said. He bowed slightly and he walked away.

Later as I was preparing to go home, I retrieved the gift bag from the counter in the sacristy. But I couldn’t resist peeking inside. When I opened it, however, I didn’t need to look inside to know what I would find. The pungent aroma of homemade Polish sausage wafted up from the open bag. At that instant, I knew what I would be having with my eggs for Easter breakfast!

Food is one of the most distinctive aspects of any culture. Even here in the US we have regional distinctions. Food defines us. Families have “signature dishes” – certain food items which are prepared only at holidays or for special family gatherings. Some people even have certain food traditions crafted to assure the success of their local sports teams.

What is it about food which is so personal? Food goes beyond mere physical maintenance of our bodies. Not only does it provide us with sensual enjoyment: it gives spiritual sustenance as well. The first “request” made in the Lord’s Prayer is “Give us this day our daily bread.” One translation of this phrase in Aramaic reads: “Give us wisdom (understanding, assistance) for our daily need.”

In many ways food, particularly in its preparation, is a consummate act of stewardship. We receive the raw gifts of God’s creation: fruits, meats, vegetables and spices. We apply our talents to these ingredients, perhaps employing the advice and wisdom of others (family or professional), and in so doing create dishes which both delight and physically sustain others.

Is this not one way to return God’s gifts with increase? How appropriate it is to speak a blessing over these gifts at our family table! Or, at Easter time, to bring them to church to have them blessed in a community of believers.

It is therefore not surprising that our worship service, the Mass, is our coming together over a meal of very special significance. Jesus spent much of his time preaching, teaching and healing. Throughout that time we find many of his actions consummated by celebrations over food.

It is little wonder then, that the defining moment of our faith, was a meal with the closest of friends; the Last Supper.

Dear God: Bless this food which you provide for us and bless it to our use, physical and spiritual.

"Food to a large extent is what holds a society together and eating is closely linked to deep spiritual experiences." ~Peter Farb (1929-1980) and George Armelagos (b 1936) 'Consuming Passions: The Anthropology of Eating', American anthropologists and writers

©2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.
“90 Second Stewardship”  All rights are reserved. You are welcome and encouraged to forward this e-mail to family and friends provided the”© 2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” is included along with this message. Organizations, whether for or non profit, are required to receive written approval before reproducing these reflections. If written approval is given the “© 2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” must be included along with this message.

Friday, April 13, 2012

Here and Now

“Life is now. There was never a time when your life was not now, nor will there ever be.” ~Eckhart Tolle, German-born, Canadian author (b1948)

The Melkite Priests, Deacons and the Bishop began to sing the funeral chant. The words were not unlike my own Roman Catholic prayers. The casket, draped with roses had been preceded to the altar by a bagpipe and the immediate family. It was a unique fusion of customs since John was a Roman Catholic, Scottish immigrant who had adopted his wife’s Melkite Greek Catholic tradition.

Now, the casket was resting quietly in the middle of the altar area surrounded by clergy. A large photographic portrait of my friend, John, rested on an easel facing the mourners. Dressed in full formal attire, he was smiling his typical radiant smile.

As the wave of chants swept over me, I found myself pondering the many years I had known John.  We had been introduced by a mutual friend and client 21 years earlier. Having just moved back to California from Ohio we needed a tax accountant. Our friend recommended John, and even though his office was 28 miles away, he became our “tax man.”

Twice a year (once before the end of the calendar year to assure we had paid sufficient taxes and once during tax season), we made our pilgrimage to John’s office. Strangely, it never seemed like business. Each and every visit felt like a social visit.

For a moment the chanted prayers brought my wandering mind back to the funeral.

What was this strange gift John had for making something as dull, and potentially threatening, as tax preparation, an enjoyable event; one to which we actually looked forward? It was more than just his positive attitude and love of life.

As I rolled this question over in my mind, the answer seemed obvious but not necessarily logical. Our good friend had a remarkable ability to live in the present moment and remain focused on the people he was engaging. I, on the other hand, was the king of the “yes, buts…” and “what ifs?”

John never rushed; he was always patient, kind and available. Once I jokingly told him I was “shocked to discover he had other clients” because he gave everyone such special, personal attention.

The jingling sound of the bells on the thurible, as the coffin was being incensed by one of the Deacon,s brought my attention back to the funeral. The final prayers were sung as the coffin was led up the aisle and the preliminary hum of the bagpipe commenced. In that moment, I was reminded of an old Eskimo proverb: “Yesterday is ashes. Tomorrow is green wood. Only today does the fire burn brightly.”

The gift of time on this earth may be the greatest gift God gives us. Without the time to use them, our other gifts don’t matter match. But, rather than spending our valuable gift of time in the here and now, many of us wander off. We find ourselves worrying about the “shoulds” in life – should have done this, should be doing that or should do it tomorrow – and it sometimes makes us miserable.

In this respect, misery is a destination, rather than a condition. Most of us have to travel (mentally) to find misery in our lives. We visit our pasts, which are laden with regrets, guilt, old hurts, and unresolved issues. Our futures are a mysterious fog of uncertainty. What will tomorrow bring? The unknown future becomes a vessel which is filled with dread and angst.

We are certainly entitled to our happy memories. Happiness, however, most often resides in the here and now. Unfortunately though, most of us operate in a realm of marginal attentiveness, cycling back and forth through past, present and future.

God made us stewards of our time and we have a responsibility to use that time well. Time is wasted when we spend it regretting our past or doubting our future rather than living in the joy of the present.

John’s gift was his passion for the intense happiness of the present. Like John, we are called to live here…now…and forever.

Dear God: Focus me on the present moment. Cleanse my heart of any worthless, evil or distracting thoughts.  

“If you aren't in the moment, you are either looking forward to uncertainty, or back to pain and regret.” ~Jim Carrey, Canadian-American actor and comedian (b1962)

 ©2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.

“90 Second Stewardship” All rights are reserved. You are welcome and encouraged to forward this e-mail to family and friends provided the”© 2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” is included along with this message. Organizations, whether for or non profit, are required to receive written approval before reproducing these reflections. If written approval is given the “© 2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” must be included along with this message.