Lent 1 Food 6
BFC 2016
I Corinthians
12:4-7, 13-15, 22-26; Luke 24:28-31
February 14,
2016
We began this food
justice sermon series with the creation stories in Genesis. We come to a close with one of the most
well-known resurrection stories—the road to Emmaus. The two disciples, mourning the death of
their friend and teacher, only know the Risen Christ when he shares food with
them. At the core of the Christian message then is
the idea that the Risen Christ is found as we share, we feed one another, build
community, knit together the social fabric God intends for us. The nexus between that resurrection story and
the first story of creation in Genesis is found in a Buddhist prayer which
says, “Innumerable beings brought us this food.
We should know how it comes to us.”
Benedictine monk, David
Steindl-Rast says that
when you
put that [Buddhist prayer] into practice and look at what’s there at your
table, on your plate, there is no end to connectedness. In the end, for
instance, most people don’t think of it, but in the end, we always eat earth.
We eat earth. Not in an abstract way, in a very concrete way. This humus is
what we eat, or crystals when we eat salt, it’s pretty obvious that comes out
of the earth. That’s earth, directly.
When we eat vegetables, well, the vegetables were nourished by all the
nutrients in the earth, and then now we eat them, or the fruits of these
plants. If you eat meat or fish, then they were nourished by vegetables, and
they were nourished by the earth. Always comes back to earth.
It always comes back to
earth. As the first creation story told
us, we are made from ruach, divine
breath, and adamah, fertile soil, a
community image, a connected image, an interdependent image that says we cannot
be human alone.
As I read more and more content about
food and our relationship with food, I am taken with how even secular authors
and advocates sound deeply theological, almost Biblical, as they offer
solutions to the world food crisis. So
it is with Anna Lappé and Frances Moore Lappé, authors of the book, Hope’s Edge, when they share the five
liberating ideas that will help us find our way. First, they write, we must cut through the
scarcity illusion promoted by industrial agriculture and recognize the
abundance that is before us. Second, we
must recognize that portraying humankind as primarily selfish materialists is a
sad caricature. We would have never made
it as a species if we did not learn how to share with one another. Third, we must recognize that our science and
technology are tools that should not dominate us. We must use deep values to dictate how our
science and technology shall serve us. Fourth, we must solve for pattern. We need to make decisions around food
recognizing that all decisions create ripples.
Land, soil, farmers, farmworkers, animals, food, transportation, trade,
producers, markets, purchasers are all interrelated. The best decisions will be made with harmony
and grace in mind. Fifth, the status quo
should never be seen as all that is possible.
We can create and transform economies, and many of those economies are
already created and being created, that respect nature, culture, and ourselves.
These last few weeks I have been talking about what we might consider
our personal or familial rules for discerning how we shall shop, how we might
eat, the relationships we want to build around our tables. As a Type 2 diabetic and part of a family, I,
or we, have some food rules that are important to my health and our life as a
family. 1) As a night owl, one of my
rules is to never eat any food after 10:00 p.m.
2) Tracy and I go out for breakfast or lunch every Friday as a way of
building our fabric as a couple. 3)
Tracy has done a tremendous job getting us all around the table for many of our
dinner meals. Barb Gulick wrote in with
several of the food rules in their family.
Here are just a few of their rules.
1) The Gulicks shop at a local store that grows the economy, not a
chain. 2) They regularly compost fruit
and vegetable scraps. 3) And, my
favorite, they will eat by candlelight to remind themselves of God’s presence
in their lives. John Smillie shared two of his favorite food
rules: 1) the taste, nutrition, and ecological
value of the food increases as the distance between food and market decreases;
and 2) the footprint of the farmer is the greatest fertilizer.
Those
are all great personal and familial rules.
I am sure many of you can echo those.
But the church is this grand enterprise of what we would do together
that might ripple out to our community and the wider world.
What
do we want for our faith community and wider community? For example, do we want a relationship with
the farmer or the farm that produces our food?
What values do we want to be a part of the school lunch program at our school? If we eat meat, do we care about how the
animals are treated in the processing of that food? And do we want it processed in such a way
that it breaks several child labor laws to get it to market?
My
journey to understand what might be a new kosher, a new spiritual practice
around food, was sealed with my work around a more humane immigration
policy. Over a decade ago, Jewish
communities from New York emigrated to a rural Iowa community to begin a kosher
meat packing plant, Agriprocessors. The plant was a boon to the small community of
Postville, Iowa, and brought undocumented workers from Guatemala into Postville
as well. PBS did a documentary about
Postville, “When Cultures Collide,” describing the interesting intersection of
rural Iowans, Guatemalans, and an orthodox Jewish community from the big city.
Almost
eight years ago, the largest federal raid in U.S. history happened in
Postville, Iowa, devastating the community and embarrassing many Jewish
communities when it was revealed how kosher allowed for the breaking of child
labor laws. Small Guatemalan children
were exposed to dangerous equipment.
Small Guatemalan children were exposed to dangerous chemicals. And, as a reward for this victimization of
their children, Guatemalan families were then ripped apart by a federal
immigration raid. In this context, was
this really what it meant to be “kosher?”
When
kosher is supposed to be about identity for many Jewish people, how can your
own identity be affiliated with what is effectively child abuse? This led many Jewish congregations to a
reconsideration of what is kosher, and to discern new food rules in keeping
with their values.
At Mt.
Sinai Temple in Springfield, Massachusetts, the congregation developed new
guidelines or values for kosher or kashrut
to better “embody” their Judaism. As I
read their community food rules, remember that the apostle Paul considered
himself a Jew when he offered the discernment questions for food rules, “What
is beneficial to you and the community?
What strengthens community? What
honors God? What shows you to be
practicing your faith using your values so that food or science and technology
involved with food does not dominate you?”
See if you think their food rules follow the apostle Paul’s discernment
questions. Mt. Sinai’s food rules
include:
§ To consider the environmental
impact of the meals and food served at Mt. Sinai Temple
§ To consider the way in which
animals that provide our food are treated
§ To consider the health
implications of the food eaten
§ Plus the way in which workers who
have produced our food have been treated.
§ Concretely speaking, we propose
that the congregation assign importance to such issues as the use of minimal
packaging for food served
§ Plus the use of local and organic
foods where possible.
§ We propose reducing the amount of
disposable materials such as paper and plastic used in the kitchen.
§ Healthy foods (as defined by
those preparing the meal) might also be encouraged at Sinai.
§ Finally, we propose that our
congregation consider serving only Fair Trade Coffee plus other foods that can
be certified “fair trade.”
As I read over those food rules for the first time,
I thought that those indeed follow the discernment questions offered by the
apostle Paul.
Now
some of you may think that all this food talk is crazy. What does this really have to do with life
with God and one another? Isn’t this
just Mike getting political? Do we
really have to think about food for our Christian faith? Why doesn’t the Outreach Committee rein Mike
in and make him stop all this foolishness?
And, finally, I wonder if I should go to Red Lobster or Hardee’s after
worship?
And
the answers are: everything, no, yes,
because he’s out of control, and it’s up to you.
The fact is,
we have all kinds of food rules at Billings First Church we practice regularly
and intentionally. And you have heard me trumpet some of these as
a way we show ourselves to be a people of courage and hospitality.
·
We regularly invite homeless guests and visitors to
worship to Second Sunday lunches or meals downstairs.
·
Many people make it a point to greet, serve, and dine
with those homeless guests and visitors.
·
Every two or three months, our congregation participates
in a ministry for homeless families that regularly provides home-cooked meals
for one to three homeless families.
·
Primetimers and Winetimers are a way that senior members
in our congregation bond and build social fabric.
·
We invite people into our narthex for Art Walk where we
greet them with food to convey our hospitality.
·
Members of our congregation regularly provide meals for
our Wednesday youth group meetings to share our concern and love for our young
people.
·
Every month our congregation is asked to contribute food
for the food pantry and stem the tide of hunger in our community.
·
Our congregation liberally gives of its resources to a
discretionary fund that often goes to provide rooms for the homeless but also
provides meals for people who are down on their luck.
Those are
just some of the things we do that relate our food ethic, rules, and
practices. Presently, discussion is
going on to decide how we shall go from here.
This Lenten season, you are invited to join with people from First
English Lutheran Church and Mayflower to be more intentional and mindful in your
food practice. Rev. Stacey and I are
trying to do the Daniel Fast throughout this time. I know some of you are doing that or a
variation of that as well. The
guidelines for the Daniel Fast can be found on the back table. Also found on the back table, is the
handout, “40 Days for Food Justice.” I
know Natasha Potratz, the Director of Art and Events at the Downtown Billings
Alliance, who has been regularly attending our church over the last few weeks, has
been following that handout. Others are
just eating more intentionally and mindfully during this Lent.
Here
are some practical suggestions for being more intentional and mindful yourself
during this Lenten season. You can buy a
Community Supported Agriculture share from Kate’s Garden. Kate Rossetto, who
serves with me on the Yellowstone Valley Citizen’s Council will show up to
offer her CSA on Wednesday, February 24th, during our Wednesday
Lenten series at 6:00 p.m. in our Fellowship Hall. Or maybe, as some food experts recommend to
get started, try meatless Mondays through Lent.
Practice meatless Mondays in the same way many Christians used to eat
only fish on Fridays through Lent. Or,
finally, decide you will make at least one shopping trip a month away from big
box stores or supermarkets to many of the food stores in Billings with
alternative values and then extend that shopping to the farmer’s markets when
the weather warms.
For
anyone who wishes to participate at any level, purple silicon bracelets with
the words “Lenten Mindfulness” are also found at the back of the sanctuary. I pray it is a way we can join in solidarity
with each other and with people from Mayflower and First English Lutheran so
that you know you are not alone.
I know that for many of you, you are
ready for this sermon series to end. My
hope is though, for some of you, this series has given you the perspective and
courage to think how your daily practices might be beneficial to your health
and the health of our community, how they might strengthen our community, and how
they might begin to honor God and this earth God so loves. I want to end with a quote from a book by
Montana native, Liz Carlisle. Carlisle
writes in her book about courageous Montana farmers and the work they are doing,
in regenerative farming, the words they use to describe their work—seeds upon
seeds upon seeds. To me, she sounds very
much like I Corinthians 12. Carlisle
writes,
But
the fact is that biological fertility is more than just a different nutrient
management approach. It's an entirely different way of life--one in which
time and space broaden considerably, and the illusion of control falls
apart. Building your soil biologically is not a precise prescription for
a particular crop, but a contribution to a larger ecology, subject to
independent variables, geologic time, and global biogeochemical cycles.
You will not capture all the value on this farm, in this year. You cannot
individualize your return. To build biological fertility is to build
community--to accept interdependence with other creatures and foster a common
benefit. This way of life cultivates a new kind of awareness, a new
empathy. You have to pay attention beyond this season. You cannot
spray and then forget about it and go to the lake. Planting organic lentils--and
all the other crops that go with them--becomes part of who you are, what you
are conscious of, how you see the world. It forces you to listen more
deeply, more expansively. And it softens, to some extent, the borders of
the self. This is the great irony of the lentil underground, or perhaps
its secret. What rugged individualism brought together, only community
can sustain. When I'd ask Casey Bailey to reflect on the biggest lesson
he'd learned by bucking the corporate farm industry, he'd paused for a full ten
seconds, then answered firmly, "That you can't do it alone."
You can’t do
it alone. We are made of fertile soil
and divine breath, made in the image of God.
We are also the Body of Christ.
One part of the body cannot say to the other I have no need of you. For God made us interconnected and
interdependent. As we enter this Lenten
season, may we walk in this wilderness with an intentionality and mindfulness
that begins to remember the ancient practice of kosher in a way that honors
God. And may we do it together knowing
we belong to each other and to this good earth God created in love and
joy. Amen.
Each child comes from a different place, a separate life, a distinct set of experiences, but their stories usually follow the same predictable, fucked-up plot.
