Food to Strengthen the Human Heart

Lessons from Psalm 104 and the Joy of Cooking

Our congregation on the Maine coast shares “Joys and Concerns” from anyone who has a prayer request on Sunday morning. State Rep. Holly Stover is a member of our congregation, and passionately shared her concern about the increased violence and hateful rhetoric. I was moved because what Holly did not say is how many times she has been threatened, verbally harassed, and told she is going to Hell for her beliefs. Political violence did not start Saturday night with a lone gunman, but has dramatically risen for all elected officials since 2016. It takes great courage to lead and be truthful in these angry times.

We strive to be not afraid, and we can’t talk about politics all the time. I recommend the Sunday Washington Post editorial, which I have exerted at the end of this message. So, as I make the awkward transition every pastor has to make when major events happen on a Saturday night, I will move on to my Sunday Sermon.

We also need to eat. We need sustenance, joy and community to carry on. Below are my reflection on Food and Faith.

You cause the grass to grow for the cattle
    and plants for people to cultivate,
to bring forth food from the earth
and wine to gladden the human heart,
oil to make the face shine
    and bread to strengthen the human heart.
The trees of the field are watered abundantly,
    the cedars of Lebanon that he planted.

Psalm 104:14-16

"Give us this day our daily bread," Jesus taught us to pray. But Jesus was not an ascetic food minimalist, expecting us to survive on bread and water, depriving ourselves of the joy of good food. Eating together and celebrating is core to much of the Gospels. The first miracle in John's Gospel is turning water into wine at the wedding feast at Cana. (My sober 8^th grade Sunday School teacher said that is the one thing she did not like about him.). But others didn't want Jesus to eat so much. The Pharisees were upset when he harvested grain to eat on the Sabbath. Jesus attended many banquets, so much so that followers of John the Baptist accused him of being a glutton. Jesus said the Kingdom of heaven is like a great banquet, and we are to be like salt in the food and leaven in the dough.

He forgives Peter after preparing breakfast and appears to two disciples on the road to Emmaus as they break bread for the evening meal. Every Gospel includes feeding 5000 people. And, of course, our theology would be entirely different without the Passover and the Last Supper.  (Which I think should be called the First Supper, the new beginning.)

Psalm 104 says, "God brings forth food from the earth and wine to gladden the human heart, oil to make the face shine, and bread to strengthen the human heart." The Psalm adds that this divine provision extends to watering the earth's plants and feeding the animals. Every living thing thrives due to the generous provision of God. The first story of our faith says we began in a garden, and it is all good. Genesis 2:9 says "Out of the ground the Lord God made to grow every tree that is pleasant to the sight and good for food." 

Food is a grace through which we experience the joy and generosity of God. Like all good things, it can be hoarded and abused, used for power over others, or worshiped as a false god. But food has been recognized since the beginning of civilization as a sacred substance, and eating together is a faithful ritual to participate in the community of the divine. 

Perhaps our high priests should be the cooks; with religious orders of gardeners, farmers, bakers, vintners, and sommeliers. Cooking shapes civilization. Making fire to cook things is the energy of life. Archeological evidence shows the use of fire for cooking for over a million years. It is a significant force in our evolutionary development. Cooked food is easier to digest. A body can gain five times the calories from cooked meat or grains than raw food. This extra energy went into brain development, language, cave paintings, philosophy, and making up knock-knock jokes. 

Once humans had their calories, they searched for novelty and variety. Eating isn't just for survival; it is a source of pleasure. In the 8^th century, before Christ, as prophets like Isaiah denounced the injustice of the Assyrian conquest of Israel, the Assyrians were perfecting baklava. Perhaps part of the conquest was to control the sources of spice routes, salt, and pistachios from northern Israel. The Assyrians would kill for their baklava.

Meanwhile, in Mesoamerica, the Olmecs were cultivating cocoa plants and brewing a hot, frothy, bitter beverage that was the forerunner to hot chocolate. It was a sacred beverage used in religious rituals and medicinal purposes. It would take over 2000 years to evolve into the chocolate lava cake. The point is that cooking and preparing good food relates to spirituality and religious experience. 

Irma Rombauer was never known as a good cook. Her husband committed suicide in 1930 as the Great Depression began. Friends urged her to collect recipes and try them to deal with her grief. Her passion for recipes became an obsession, which led to the publication of "The Joy of Cooking," America's most popular cookbook.   The book has gone through nine editions as recently as 2019. The original cover art depicted St. Martha of Bethany, the patron saint of cooking, slaying the dragon of kitchen drudgery.

The cookbook pioneered the folksy conversational style that is now so familiar. She shared practical gems like:

"If there is one subject that has sparked disagreement among food writers and home cooks more than any other, it is the best way to boil an egg...you never want to actually boil eggs, but rather, gently simmer them."

The Joy of Cooking prioritized meals that required easy-to-find ingredients and were affordable to middle-class families. It was incredibly inclusive of different cultures and styles at the time, and later editions included food from around the world and dealt with issues like what makes a chicken free-range. 

Many of the quotes Rumbauer peppered throughout the book echo the sacred nature of cooking:

·      "The kitchen is a sacred space where aroma dances on the air and memories are born."

·      "Food, like a loving touch or a glimpse of divine power, has the ability to comfort." 

·      "Cooking is like painting or writing a song. Just as there are only so many notes or colors, there are only so many flavors—how you combine them sets you apart."

I find reading a good cookbook is a lesson in chemistry and spirituality. Whoever said religion and science don't go together has never cooked.  I'm reading a great cookbook emphasizing the four things you must master to be a good cook. The book's name is "Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat" by Samin Nosrat.  An extra pinch of salt to something bland enhanced the aromas. If we smell more, we taste more. Fat carries the flavor around and affects textures. Most recipes I know start with slicing a couple of garlic cloves and sizzling them in butter or olive oil. (I won't dirty a knife for just one garlic clove!).  Imagine not having butter for bread or a baked potato with no butter and sour crème. Acid balances flavors. A squeeze of lemon on fish or vegetables or a tablespoon of vinegar in a lentil soup changes everything. Finally, we need to use heat properly. Frying things makes them crispy, and slowly roasting vegetables soften them. Imagine eating a raw beet. Cookie dough is OK by itself, but a baked chocolate chip cookie is a miracle. 

Nearly every dish you make involves salt, fat, acid and heat. The rest is creative improv on what you like. The same is true of our faith. The most important things about our faith are straightforward. We need these three things, Paul said, faith, hope, and love, and the greatest of these is fat (wait, I think it is love! I love fat, but it is love that counts in faith.). Do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with your God. Love your neighbor as yourself. 

Like great food, great religion comes down to good ingredients, practice, and applying the basics: salt, fat, acid, heat, or faith, hope, and love. 

Over the past decades, as the church has declined, we have tried almost everything but the basics. When I started ministry, drums and guitars were the key to the future. Then, it was a new hymnal. We made resolutions at General Synod on everything imaginable and formed endless study committees. I once voted on 117 resolutions at one General Synod. The experts said we needed to innovate, re-write the bylaws, build better websites, and get on Twitter. No, not Twitter; now we need to make TikTok videos. 

Could it be that what we really need is to sit down and eat together, sharing in faith, hope, and love, and inviting others to join us? New Testament scholar Jon Dominic Crossan, in his 1000-page analysis of the life of Jesus, said that one of the things that made Jesus tick was inviting everyone to eat together. Inviting everyone to eat together as equals, like the 5000 fed, was what Jesus did to break down the barriers between people.  Break bread and remember me. I don't think he suggested we had to cut the bread in perfect squares or worry about doing things in the proper order. What Jesus hoped was we would eat together. It's about hospitality, joy and connection.  Some of Paul’s writings implied that the first communion services were “love feasts” where people shared a meal.

Irma Rombauer understood this message, noting, "Cooking is an expression of the soul, a gift from one person to another.  The greatest pleasure of cooking lies in sharing it with others." 

When I was serving as Co-pastor in Northampton, we started a dinner church.  We invited people to garden together, and make soup and clean up together.  Each meal began in candlelight, with singing and sharing bread and cup.  Then we ate together and discussed a topic.  It might be a question like “Why should we pray?  or “Bring your favorite poem.  We had a St. Francis of Assisi night after I had a Sabbatical in Italy, and a Maundy Thursday meal. We discovered that a lot of people who would have never come in through the front door and sit in a pew, would come to dinner; and they wanted to have meaningful and open conversations about faith.

Unfortunately, COVID brought an end to eating together, but many people did learn to cook since they couldn’t go out.  Maybe it’s time to recover eating as a sacred tradition.  Then maybe we will have some new stories to collect for the book, “The Joy of Church.”The darkest hours of American history, the ones shadowed by political violence, remind us that incitement and hatred must be constantly challenged and never tolerated. The privileges of free and open speech, the glory of wide-open campaign rallies and impassioned politicking, depend on an atmosphere free of fear and intimidation.

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Letter from the Editors of the Washington Post, Sunday, July 14

So what do we want to do?

In this moment, we have to recognize that we have all been touched by toxic politics — regardless of our beliefs or where we fall on an ideological spectrum.

Can this, then, be a moment to pause and rediscover our better selves? To hear our inner voices, as clearly as we heard those shots? Americans, what do we want to be?

It’s not up to politicians, or editorial pages.

The responsibility is ours, as neighbors and citizens.

In fact, this republic is ours, as Benjamin Franklin said, “if we can keep it.”

Let us begin today.