Blessed Are the Hungry

This following article speaks for itself.

Blessed are you poor, for yours is the kingdom of God.
Blessed are you that hunger now, for you shall be satisfied.
Jesus (Luke 6: 20B-21A)

“Jesus knew the pain of hunger and the healing possibilities in meals. Therefore, Jesus not only preached, taught, and healed; he also fed, saying, ‘I am the bread of life; he who comes to me shall not hunger, and he who believes in me shall never thirst.’ He promised his disciples at the opening of his ministry that he would confront the hunger of the world.

Some people have mistakenly inferred that Matthew has somehow spiritualized the beatitudes with the additions of ‘poor in spirit’ and ‘hunger and thirst for righteousness’. This interpretation fails to do justice either to Jewish concepts of the person or to the nature of poverty and hunger. No first-century Jew would understand our division of body and spirit. A person’s body and person’s soul are part of a unified personality. What affects the body affects the soul and vice versa. We know this from our own experience. To be hungry in your stomach is to hunger in one’s spirit. To be poor is not simply an abstracted condition of the heart or the head but is a condition which affects one’s total well-being. Chronic poverty is known to have a wide array of detrimental emotional consequences.

Thus, it would be a perversion of this passage to argue (as, alas, the church has sometimes argued) that it was not real hunger or actual material poverty to which Jesus was speaking, but rather some inner, ethereal, or spiritual condition. It is just this spiritualized attitude which makes our worship an escape from God’s will rather than a confrontation with God’s will.

Nicolas Berdyaev, the Russian theologian, once said that to consider our own bread is a materialistic question; however, our neighbours’ bread is a spiritual question. How tragic it is that for many people the word spiritual has come to mean ‘not real’!

The words, ‘Blessed are the hungry,’ were spoken to a people for who poverty was a pervasive reality. Famine and the accompanying slow, agonizing death by starvation were ever-present possibilities. These words were heard by people, who knew that while humanity ‘does not live by bread alone’, we do not live without bread either.

And it was to this poverty of body and soul, this hunger of extruding bellies and skin-and-bones deprivation that Jesus’ words thundered forth, “Blessed are the poor…Blessed are the hungry…”.

In the time it takes for you to read these words, somewhere in the world, someone has closed his or her eyes and died of hunger.

From Sunday Dinner, by William Willimon, (Pg 60-63)

Simplicity and Beauty Flavours

The sacredness of mealtimes, the table spread with abundance, issuing an invitation to commune together is the canvas upon which my creations and my passion for the epicurean can be placed. Jesus used this venue to demonstrate social justice – there was no one who he would not welcome there. Even those who betrayed him sat at table with him and received communion.

In the book Sunday Dinner, William Willimon writes “Because of the sacredness of meals, our ancestors in the faith saw meals and food as appropriate ways of being with God, as a means of celebrating the mystery of God’s presence.” (pg 15) Being with God and celebrating mystery are very appropriate ways to describe this tradition of meal times.

In my recent time spent in Old Montreal, some of my meals were eaten solo. The celebration of the mystery of God’s presence and being with God so accurately describes my dining experiences. “The Practice of the Presence of God”, words by Brother Lawrence, kept running through my mind.

The traffic hummed along Rue Notre Dame in the midday heat and humidity, while I walked at a slow pace taking in the sun, the diversity of languages and the beauty of the old part of this lively city. An alcove on my left drew my attention, and through the archway the sun highlighted a most peaceful and colourful little courtyard restaurant. If you are ever in Montreal try ASZU Bistro for a meal. Never have I experienced from a culinary aspect, and been surrounded by staff, that held such a sense of honor in guarding and inviting one to this place of tranquility, of colour, and rich foliage that whispered in the breeze! The elegance emerged from simplicity, natural light and greenery, and a sense of exclusion from the outside world. Staff moved quietly, with ease, with a sense of reverence for this oasis of tranquility that was entered into through a narrow stone archway with no fanfare. Perhaps the fragrance of tranquility was what drew me to stop for lunch. Or was it the contrast of hot summer breezes with the ice cold water and a simple slice of lemon floating in it and the mystery of beauty, nature, water, wind and foliage that invited me yet again to celebrate being with God, and yet knowing the mystery of the sacred table calls me to ask for more? The invitation to beauty was another ingredient in the potpourri of what created sacred space at the table.

It is not one isolated event, experience or vista but rather I find my soul seeking to “practice the presence of God” as I experience and let my senses inhale the details of this sacred mysterious place known as the table. This ancient tradition of the meal table invites us to wholeness, to sensuality, to community and to the practice of social justice. I find both the masculine and the feminine face of God in this sacred place of communion, beauty and simplicity.

Summer Evenings

Summer time and lingering; these words come to mind, and to a posting yet again. The sense of lingering in community, in sacred space, in solitude, or round the table with laughter, tears and safety has been a rich gift I have received, and held this season. The gift of each experience has been entwined with the whispering of the Spirit that this is how one is meant to live. The tenderness of passion, not the rush of wants and needs, but instead the tenderness that speaks the truth of living and loving well with integrity, honesty and honor. Like the bouquet of fine wine, your senses know it and nudge you to savour it each time you raise that long stemmed clear glass is brought to your lips.

Lingering has been a blend of solitude and of spending time with those I have rich and deep friendships with, and that has seasoned this summer with beautiful surprising flavours. 

From Montreal

During my week here in Montreal I am more and more convinced that it isn`t as a tourist I want to experience this world, but rather as someone who blends into everyday life with others in their world. For so long I have been an observer in life and I wonder how this draws me to being a deeper participant in any location.

Each morning at my hotel the guests gather for breakfast , a wonderful European style buffert to choose from. It is a large wooden table where 8 people sit, many are strangers. I observe how couples stay silent, a mother and her son have nothing to say to each other, and as I sit and hold this sacred space in the Light I realize how for Jesus mealtimes were often with those he didn`t know. I cannot imagine it being a time of silence. We are so afraid of what we don`t know and so we stay silent. I am waiting with the question of how does sacred space come to the table in this place, and realize how I am being asked to bring it within me wherever I go. It must be with me in my own questioning, my sitting in silence, my laughter with friends and in a quirky hotel in Old Montreal.