I Miss Eating With You
About two months ago, I read this article in Wired Magazine which connected two “bucket list” items of mine. One of these things I have done, and one I would like to do, and I’ll let you see if you can guess correctly:
Be a part of a church that eats together as act of worship.
Go to Mars.
Admittedly, the article does not talk about eating a meal within the context of church, but it does talk about the fundamental importance of eating together. Decades ago, the people who dreamed of space flight thought of food as an obnoxious obstacle to overcome, but today’s dreamers recognize the extraordinary importance of food in reminding us what it means to be human. In the author’s words:
Food has always been the glue that connects us to each other and to the environment around us.
Our pursuit of food has shaped the evolution of our sensory apparatus—the very tools through which we, as a species, perceive the world. The choices we make every day about food selection, preparation, and consumption lie at the foundation of our identities and relationships and affinities. As the Italian historian Massimo Montanari succinctly put it, food is culture.
Uncommon friends at Spring Church eating together during a worship service.
While I may never make it to Mars, I find it fun to dream about what the trip would be like. I also appreciated the scientific approach to understanding why food matters, as it provides another lens to why Spring Church eats together as a part of worship.
The article touches on the difficulty humans will face when they spend an extended period of time with a small crew, eating in the same place, struggling with monotony, adapting to a different schedule, and they can’t eat with anyone else. Wait a sec, this sounds familiar.
I can be a bit more patient with my family members when I think about our quarantine experience through the lens of space flight.
Maybe I’m getting a glimpse of my wish come true? I’m with a small crew, eating in the same place, we’re struggling with monotony, our schedule is different than what we’re accustomed to, and we can’t eat with anyone else. Is this quarantine the closest I’ll come to simulating a trip to Mars?
I can be a bit more patient with some of my Uncommon Friends when I get a tiny glimpse of losing the ability to eat with the people I love for a few weeks, and I wonder at how my Uncommon Friends have been through so much more than I can fathom.
I have friends who experience this stress to a far greater degree: People in a nursing home, people who have been incarcerated, people in a shelter (domestic violence, homeless, recovery, etc), people on specific work crews, people in a war zone, people in a refugee camp, people who are quarantined alone. This list could keep going for awhile, and when I pause with this gap between my experiences and the experiences of all my Uncommon Friends, I remember that it’s only through the Holy Spirit that I can cultivate the patience and humility I need today.
I can be a bit more patient with myself when I recognize that I’ve lost something vital to who I am when I’ve lost the ability to eat with you, and that’s a hard thing to lose.
When our ability to eat together goes away, our stress level goes up. I’m getting a taste of it right now, and my stress level is going up, and that’s a normal response to the situation I’m in.
I miss eating with you.
