Miracle
of Food
“By
what miracle
does
this cracker
made
from Kansas wheat,
this
cheese ripened in French caves,
this
fig, grown and dried near Ephesus,
turn
into Me?
My
eyes, my hands,
My
cells, organs, juices, thoughts?
Am
I not then Kansas wheat,
and
French cheese
and
Smyrna figs?
Figs,
no doubt,
the
ancient Prophets ate.”
Judith
Morley (Earth Prayers)
In
December, most people of the world celebrate holidays. We go to parties, and
services in temples, churches, cathedrals and mosques. We gather in
homes and restaurants and pubs, and we eat, and drink, and make
merry. And that is as it should be when one is celebrating. How often
do we think about the food we eat, or the wine we drink, and bless
the hands that provided them?
This
is a festive time of year. Just last night, as I was walking in my
neighborhood searching for my runaway dog, I heard carols being sung.
One of my neighbors had hired a chorus of professional singers to
stand outside their door singing Christmas songs as guests arrived
for a party. That may be the most festive thing I've witnessed all
month! They weren't pleased that I was screaming at the top of my
lungs, “Liza! Come on, girl!” in their midst. I found her, by the
way, shut up in a basement room, but only after great turmoil and
frantic searching. How she got in there and shut the door behind her
is still a mystery—but then, it is 'Liza the Wonder Hound' we're
talking about.
While
we're feasting this year, let's be mindful of the farmers who grew
our food, the many hands that picked and processed it, the grocers
that packed and sold it. Let us also remember that the food we put
into our mouths becomes us—our cells and organs, our muscles, bones and
brain. It matters what we eat, so let's enjoy it with full awareness
and appreciation. And, while we revel in our holiday feasting, may we
also be cognizant of what a very great privilege it is to eat at all.
In
the Spirit,
Jane
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