Finding The Gentleness of The Feast

In the last weeks of cooking school, as we prepared for our final exam, we worked to make our creations into perfections that would please the Chef/Instructors.  We created them over and over again each night, where the dishes were sent out to the school restaurant to delight the diners.  At lease we hoped they did!   Each of us hoped that on the day of the finals we would be give either a specific dish, or specific ingredients, to prepare where we usually had our greatest successes.  Creating came so much easier when it was a dish you felt really comfortable preparing.

For the last few years I have been following the practice of having a special word to ponder upon and meditate on for the New Year.  I hope to experience what it has to teach me, and also to be open to its transforming power.  I have read a number of articles in the last few weeks reminding me that it is time to open up myself to receive one for 2015.  Around this time one year ago I started opening my heart to what my ‘word’ would be for 2014.  “Feasting” was the word that came.   A word that reminded me of those ‘best’ creations from cooking school; something I loved creating and found great delight in.   I somehow expected this word to be about the action of feasting, of lively joyous meals around our dining table, with plenty of Don’t Eat Alone meals at our faith community.   Feasting would be all about creating and serving and while others came to enjoy the feast. This would all unfold easily and joyfully I thought.

Feasting, throughout 2014,  has been about abundance - enough to eat, plenty of laughter and love, energetic and lively discussions, and plenty of conversations woven around difficult places in our lives that held hope and tenderness.  We have enjoyed good wine and great desserts and sat around the table until the wine was finished and we had no space left to eat another bite.  There have been Don’t Eat Alone dinners where the number of people sitting down to eat was double the number signed up!   Somehow the food stretched for everyone, although I was certain we would be short!  (I always worry about not haven enough for everyone almost every time I cook for a large group.)  Our second season of a Co-Op Kitchen had its abundances too.  After the learning experience of the first season working with the disenfranchised our cooking lunches this second time around was even more creative, empowering and fun.

I often enjoyed the large size gatherings from behind the scenes in the kitchen.   I would ask myself “how can I stay present when I am so busy trying to make sure everyone has a place, and has enough to eat?”   There must be many people out there who ask the same question and I would love to know how they find the right balance.  Realistically, if my calling is to be part of the preparing of the feast, I realize I have to lean into it and learn to trust that it will all unfold.  Leaning into it and trusting, theoretically, joy should be the flavour that seasons this work and in this I taste the feast from where I sit/stand.

Our church family had their annual St Nicolas lunch this past weekend, an annual pot luck that is well attended.  It was a loud and boisterous affair with everyone crowding into the hall after the service.   With so many unforeseen extras wishing to join the table at the last minute, the kitchen and hall staffs were somewhat overwhelmed. In the kitchen we were trying to make sure that all the food was properly heated while in the hall, extra room and extra tables had to be found.  It was crazy, hectic, joyful and frustrating all at once.  The conversation level grew louder while many guests, sometimes successfully, sometimes not, searched for a places to sit with their friends or family.  There was a full house for sure, but we did not have the heart to turn anyone away.  Perhaps this is also what the gentleness of the feast looks like - making room, giving welcome, ensuring that no one is turned away.  

Holding all of these thoughts, bundling them together, “Feasting” has become something quite different for me.  I have begun to observe that at the larger dinner events there are those of us who keep watch for those guests looking for spaces or looking a little confused.  I relish this role of gently inviting them to come in and assuring them that spaces will be found or new ones created. Feasting has come to be firstly about this gentleness in approach, outside the kitchen.  Creating feasts is not solely about practicing my culinary art in the kitchen but also being led to the table as a participant and being fully awake to the gentleness of that moment.  Seeing Feasting from this perspective becomes more than having an abundance of good food but about gratitude - gratitude for sacred space, peace, gentleness, story, colour, texture and a celebration of our senses.

There is a gentleness to be embraced individually around feasting.  Does how I eat become a way of honouring my body, and letting me love who and what I am?  This is a huge challenge for me!

Feasting and being nourished has taken on a new shape, new dimension for me.  In this year I have often thought of the gentleness of being fed  as the ancient prophet Hosea wrote about:

“But they did not know that it was I who was healing them,

who was guiding them on through human means with reins of love.

With them I was like someone removing the yoke from their jaws,

and I bent down to feed them.”

Another translation says “I gently caused them to eat.”

Yes, gentleness is an essential part of the feast.  I see that more fully now.

Gentleness is an essential piece of letting us see and honour the human dignity within each person.

Gentleness allows us to be more cautious in how we care for this Earth, this place that is home for us.   

Gentleness is how I see and experience God in the midst of my pain during my dark days and in the midst of an often frantic way of life.   

Gentleness is an invitation that makes space for all at the table

Gentleness that says all are worthy to come to the communion table, in fact,  more than worthy, for all are invited and welcomed there simply because that is how love is.

Gentleness that soothes the pain of injustice, that continues to be the voice for justness in the midst of injustice.

Gentleness invites each one of us to sit down, have a coffee or a meal, and share our ideas.  In our diversity and the differences we will share our need to eat, to be fed and to be seen and heard.

So come and sit down, take this place, your place at the table, and may gentleness rest upon your being.