Community and Food
It is Monday afternoon and my ten-year-old daughter, Hazel, and I are doing our homework. She has math homework (she’s on fractions now and says it’s “really pretty easy, Mom” with a slight eye roll). She pauses to ask what my homework is and when I tell her I’m thinking about what to write about for my article in the View, she lists a few ideas for me and wonders why I am not instantly writing them down.
I suggest that the topic of pandas does seem interesting, but it’s not quite what I’m looking for at the moment. She says, “Oh, right – it has to be about God. So, you can write about how we can connect with God. Like it might be having a pizza with a good friend. Write about that.” And then she looks at me, wondering again why I am not typing. “Fine,” she says in a slightly exasperated tone, “I will write about that.” And she begins typing away, leaving her math homework behind.
Of course, she is right because some of the mostly wonderful connections with the Divine that I have had are around food in the company of others. There is some intricate alchemy of sharing food together that allows us to make a connection with one another and God. I think that God shows up in that shared time and space, and our hearts (and bellies) become full.
This past Sunday was no different. The day started with unexpected rain that moved our lunch from the patio to under the eaves of the Fellowship Hall. But ultimately tables and chairs were in place, sandwiches were set out, and about 100 of us gathered to eat before making meals for others. Many people asked me where they should sit, and my answer didn’t really vary – any open spot will do – because I knew that the gathered community would be delighted to sit in nearly any configuration and the beginnings of new connections would be made.
After a quick lunch, we moved inside to don our not-terribly-fashionable hairnets and plastic gloves to put together meals for Rise Against Hunger. There was dancing, there was singing along to the classic 80s music, people who did not know each other laughed as they assembled the packets of rice, soy, and vegetables. Indeed, we made quick work of packaging up 16,000 meals which will ultimately land in the hands of hungry people gathered at another table half a world away.
I know our meal packaging event was not quite the same as when Jesus fed the 5000 with 5 loaves and 2 fish. But when I imagine what it must have been like to be among the 5000, I think it might be similar. Food is shared from one person to another, conversation is lively, connections between people are created, and we are fed. In the middle of it all is God who takes joy in each conversation, each shared laugh, each scoop of rice, and in all of the moments where we care for one another.
Hazel has moved on from her math homework and her article, leaving me at the table to finish mine. She asks what I am writing about, and I tell her it’s about the connections we make when we share food together. She is glad that I took her topic suggestions but wonders why I didn’t include the pizza part. I remind her that there we didn’t package pizza and we laugh at the thought of pizza in a small bag flying overseas to a person who is hungry. We agree that the way Rise Against Hunger does it is better.
More than that, I am glad for this family of faith who takes care to nurture those who are physically nearby and those who are on the other side of the globe. We change the world for the better with these actions and connections – and in the process, we are also changed for the better. What a marvelous gift.
