I’m Eating, So What Now God?

I’ve been attending a bible study that I can stomach...well, at least two times so far. We aren’t fearful of disagreeing with each other. The people that attend represent a variety of theological stances, church backgrounds, cultures, and ethnicities. I’m not afraid to swear or say things that might be considered offensive in some more conservative circles. Christianese (you know, language Christians often use that people who haven’t grown up in the church culture wouldn’t understand) isn’t regularly spoken there. Communion is served at each study. And the fact that the Ruthruffs (the hosts) serve delicious food before each study definitely doesn’t hurt.

More so lately, I’ve had a pretty big aversion towards the practice and explanations of Christian tradition and orthodoxy that seem to exclude anybody who doesn’t immediately understand church or Christianity as a whole. In other words, I’ve been feeling something of a hate (and I think hate is a strong word, but for now it seems most representative of how I feel most times) for things that make a holy huddle. It’s my opinion that Christian practice should always seek to be relevant beyond a myopic and ingrown culture and/or worldview; ultimately representing a Christ that embraces the “other.”

Today we talked about the paschal meal – a recreation of the Passover Meal (which commemorates the Exodus of the Israelites as they were freed from slavery) that became the last supper of Christ. Historically, and in my own personal experience, these types of conversations usually leave me with a bitter taste in my mouth, the flavor of not having met some sort of Christian quota mixed with equal part shame and emotional self-flagellation. So when today’s discussion of the paschal meal led towards the topic of Lent, fasting, the exodus, identity formation, how we bear shame, and where God fits in without reverting to simple bible quoting, and included multiple self-disclosures of personal struggles in believing aspects of God and God’s actions in our lives – I became alive and engaged.

A few things surfaced in my mind as a result of the conversation.

In reading, “When he was at the table with them, he took bread, gave thanks, broke it and began to give it to them. Then their eyes were opened and they recognized him, and he disappeared from their sight” (Luke 24:30-31), we discussed how slowing down from the day’s activities to eat with those close to us can help us “unplug” from the static and hum of life which can sometimes act as a barrier toward mindfulness and attunement towards self. The act of intentionally eating with others can help us feel and recognize the physical and relational nurturing we all long for and need. Isn’t that what the act of abstaining in Lent is intended for? To not feel full anymore. To reconnect with our longings, and as a result see the shitty parts of our lives, who has been M.I.A, how we’ve been falling short, having our mommy and daddy issues surface, various traumas, etc., and then be able to sincerely ask, “So what now God?” Maybe when the disciples received the bread they really felt the “So what now God?” and as a result were finally able to see their answer in the presence of the resurrected Christ. I mean, how often do we in our efforts to tune out the hurtful parts of our life also tune out God’s presence in those hurtful parts? Maybe if we slowed down enough to feel what is floating in the undercurrent we might also have our eyes opened and recognize Christ.

I’ll end this post by submitting to the blogosphere a photo project I came across on the interwebs. “Dinner in NY” is a series of photographs by Miho Aikawa portraying various dinner times. I wonder how these people, in their eating practices, might also be practicing connectedness or dissociation. Do any of the photos remind you of your dinner times?

http://www.mihophoto.com/projects/dinnerinny/