The Rome Series: Mealtime

My first post for 'The Rome Series,' highlighting reflections from my recent trip to Rome, Italy. I am excited to share my experience with the culture, food, and history with you.

Before leaving for Italy, a priest gave me a travel tip saying, “Make sure you pack a ‘whatever’ attitude” and further explained that Italians focus on people, not systems.   On relationships, not order.  I myself noticed this profoundly during mealtime, as Italian people leisurely ate meals and put care into food preparation and quality.  It was a concept ingrained into their culture and I think we would do well to learn from this.

Americans generally eat on the go, or inhale their food between working hours.  Many people eat alone.  Conversely, Italians generally have a communal, social aspect to their meals.  They do not force or rush the experience.  In fact, a waiter will rarely bring a bill expect when asked, anticipating a long dining experience for his guests.  It is the difference between a drive-through hamburger and a perfectly al dente linguine alti scampi (linguini with shrimp, yum!).

As Christians we actually have a responsibility to create a kind of reverence surrounding mealtime.  Feeding our body with fresh, seasonal foods shows respect for the gift of our bodies.  It also respects the earth and seasonality of God’s creation. St. Jean-Baptiste de la Salle had this to say, “It is so natural for people to seek pleasure in eating and drinking that Saint Paul, teaching early Christians to perform all their actions for the love and glory of God, is obliged to mention eating and drinking specifically, for it is difficult to eat without offending God. Most people eat like animals to satisfy their appetite.”  Let us not devour our food like animals, but instead invite God into our meals, that he might sanctify them, that he might elevate our conversation and give us grateful hearts. 

Think back to the last meal that you ate…did you say grace prior to eating? Did you choose food that would nourish your body?  Did you actually taste and savor your bites?  Did you interact and converse with the person with whom you were sharing the meal?  Let us enter into mealtime with intention and purpose, allowing God to permeate this everyday occurrence.  Let us be more like Italians at mealtime and focus on people, on relationships, instead of tasks.

+Saturari,

Amanda

80% Catholic

My friend Whitney is a convert to Catholicism and has a powerful story of conversion after a missionary experience in Liberia, Africa. I am honored that she was willing to share her heart and her faith journey "in the kitchen."

When I first moved to Nashville five years ago, I had been struggling with the Catholic doctrine. I would have considered myself an 80% Catholic, as I was completely in love with about 80% of the doctrine, but the other 20% I had struggled to embrace. Through prayer and petition, I tried to reach full understanding of the doctrine, but just could not get there.

After being told that I was not fully a Catholic unless I believed 100% of the doctrine, I felt discouraged because I didn’t feel like it was possible to ever be 100% sure of anything on this earth, so I felt shunned from the church. Arriving in Nashville from Chicago, I was excited about moving to a place where there was only about 4% of the city practicing Catholicism. I was eager to get involved with a great Protestant church, but after a year of searching for a church that seemed to fit my wants and needs, I felt like I kept coming up short. I started attending mass on Saturday evenings at [a local Catholic Church], thinking, “No one will know that I’m not 100% Catholic” and, “I just won’t tell anyone if they ask.” After meeting some friends at church who invited me to their weekly Bible study, I slowly tiptoed my way back into [Catholicism]. Being honest with them and letting them know that I was only an "80% Catholic" was easier than I thought, and they didn’t pressure me or stuff doctrine down my throat to believe one thing or another.

 About six months after I had started attending [Catholic] mass, I spent Advent and Christmas praying about the opportunity to go to Liberia with my dear friends who were planning to become missionaries there.  On [the Feast of the] Epiphany while sitting underneath the nativity scene, I heard my own version of the angel saying to me, “Do not be afraid.” I decided to go with them to lead a teacher training and spend time with the orphans in a rural village. It was my Catholic community of young adults who truly helped me to raise money for the trip. They hosted pancake dinners and singer-songwriter nights, and by the grace of God, I raised the funds to take the trip to Africa. I truly saw the power of a church community.

Upon arrival in Flehlah, Liberia, I was awestruck by the poverty in this part of the world. All of the children at Safe Home Children’s Home wore tattered clothes and were captivated by my white skin and the fact that I had a mother and a father. They asked me, “What is your mother like?“ and, “What is your father like?” They wanted to see pictures of my grandparents and hear stories about having a family.

I spent every morning helping Mary, the house mom of the 65 orphans serve breakfast. Breakfast was one of the only meals of the day, so it was very important. It consisted of [the same] rice and a simple soup. Mary would get up long before everyone else to light the fire and cook the food. We would meet at the fire and I would bring the day’s Catholic mass readings that I had printed out and read them to her as she cooked. Every day, she asked if she could keep the scrap of paper that I had brought. The way that she held and cherished those readings made me realize how sacred Scripture was, and I had planned on throwing those printed papers away.

I believe it was no coincidence that Mary’s name was Mary, as I saw how she fed and clothed those children every day. The Lord made it clear to me why he would give us his Mother to care for us. I was profoundly spoken to of [our Mother] Mary’s love and care for us as her children.

In Liberia, the diet consisted of usually one meal a day. This one meal was something that was yearned for, that kept the Liberians alive. My experience of partaking in this one meal made me realize the profundity of the Eucharist—that Christ gives us Himself through a meal—one that will nourish us for the rest of the day. I reflected on how food really is the tangible energy that we are given and can affect our strength, and thus, our contributions to this earth. I felt what it was like to hunger for food. The relief that was felt after consuming the meal of the day brought peace to all, knowing that there would be survival for another day. I felt [a deep connection] for the Eucharist, all the more, in its ability to sustain us with Jesus’ Body and His Blood, which is true food, with which He tells us that we will never hunger. In experiencing this simplicity with food in Liberia, there was a true appreciation for the meal that we Americans do not really comprehend. I am blessed that I was able to experience this understanding of the Eucharist.

These are deep experiences that I will be processing for the rest of my lifetime.

I returned from the trip a 100% Catholic. The doctrine of Mary that I had been struggling with was no longer a struggle. The doctrines of the Eucharist and sacred scripture were all the more engrained as truth. To anyone who is struggling with the doctrine of the faith, I would tell them that even if they are only .01% there, they need to continue to walk into that, because the Lord Jesus will be faithful to walk with them in His timing.

Come to the Table

+Feast of St. Joseph+

In everything, love simplicity. [St. Francis de Sales]

St. Joseph lived a very simple life and no spoken quotes are attributed to him in the New Testament. However, he is hailed as patron of the universal church. Joseph's work as a carpenter was also a simple position, but it implies steadiness, dependability and fortitude. Think of all the gathering and conversation that happens around a table. What if that table were built with one's own hands? Simple construction, but lasting impact.

I recently spoke with a friend about his carpentry and what inspired him to build a table for his home. He responded that he and his wife had committed to sharing moments with their friends and family around that table, that he himself had built. He said it meant so much more because it was crafted by him. He also reminded me of the quote, "When you have more than you need, build a bigger table, not a higher fence," stating that he and his wife intended to open their home to many people since they did not have any children. They still needed a large table in anticipation of all the people that they would host and welcome. What a beautiful notion!

Here at Temple and Table, we have a very special offering called Table for 12. It is a chance to foster community, have meaningful conversation and enjoy a healthful meal with both strangers and friends. This event can be translated for parishes, youth groups, bible studies or any community.  Our culture is starving for the simple gifts of life: good food, good company and acknowledgement by another.

All of this point back to the foster father of Jesus and the power of his simple life. Lent also calls us back to a simpler life of faith - to clear out the clutter, focus on prayer and embrace fasting. In this simplicity, we meet God where we are and grow in our relationship with Him. So let us meet each other where we are at, perhaps around a simple wooden table, with simple food, which fosters the complex meeting of souls.

+Saturari,

Amanda