Feeding with Love - Communion, or Food for the Spirit

[Note: This is the fifth and final part of my series on “Feeding with Love”. Also, my apologies if I have offended anyone with the religious discussion – that was certainly not my intent.]

When I started this series on “Feeding with Love,” I thought that Communion might be a good topic for Christmas. But as I started thinking about what I would write, I quickly realized that I didn’t know enough about it. My family left the Catholic church when I was eight, so while I remembered Communion being important, I couldn’t have said why.

After some asking and poking around, I found this description online: “The sacrament of the Holy Eucharist was instituted as a food, a spiritual food…. When we eat physical food, it becomes united to us…. In Holy Communion… [we] become one with Christ…. [It] is a mystical and spiritual union of the soul with Jesus.”

And my minister (also a former Catholic, although for much longer than me) sent me this description: “Sacramental communion… was a chance to experience our oneness with Jesus, and thus with God. You might say it was meant to feed the life of the spirit.”

This resonated with me more than I expected. Previously, my only real memories about Communion revolved around transubstantiation, but this definition made more sense to me. After all, both “Am I Hungry?” and my health counseling program stress the importance of feeding other areas of your life, including your spirit, recognizing that in many ways this is more important than what we physically consume.

In fact, to me, this seems the ultimate expression of feeding with love because it is honoring what we truly care about. We may not think about it very often, but we all need food for our souls. Some people find this in sacramental Communion, in accepting the bread and wine as the body and blood of Christ. Others may find it in a different type of communion, in connection with nature or other people, or whatever it is that moves them.

What I find fascinating is how feeding this other hunger can nourish the rest of our lives. When we are satisfied spiritually, the whole world may seem brighter, everything more vivid and engaging and exciting. We may find that we don’t crave physical food as much because our deeper need has been acknowledged and assuaged. We may go about our day with a lighter and more loving heart.

So this Christmas, whether you celebrate is as the birth of Jesus or not, or even if you don’t celebrate it at all, I invite you to consider his example of providing food for the spirit. And perhaps that nourishment will allow you to celebrate the holidays with less focus on the food on your plate, and more on the people, places, and traditions you love. 

Feeding with Love - Feeding the Hungry

(Part of my series on Feeding with Love)

Have you ever been hungry, so famished that you feel like you could eat anything, and the hunger takes on a life of its own, clawing at your stomach, such a constant demand that you can’t completely focus on anything else? And if you have felt that, have you been in the position of not being able to feed that hunger, but must somehow live with it, until it becomes a hollow ache, no longer pain but a chronic emptiness?

I think about this sometimes these days when the bus takes me past the soup kitchen on the way home, and I see the long lines of people gathered in the cool darkness of late afternoon. How many of them would have access to a meal if not for the soup kitchen? How long has it been since their last meal?

Some members of my church volunteer there once a month because they consider it one of the most important forms of ministry. Although I’ve only joined them a few times, I have to agree. Many of us know the joy of giving, especially in the holiday season, and what could be more rewarding than giving someone one of the very necessities of life? And even more, to do so in a loving way, to recognize and respect the humanity of each person and act accordingly as you serve them food.

That can be hard for those who are used to feeling superior to people who get their meals in such places, thinking they’re lazy or taking advantage of those with soft hearts. In truth, though, more and more people are turning to those services, people who have been hit hard by the economic downturn and have no other options.

For some people, too, the concept of hunger is abstract, not a reality, making it difficult to empathize. In a society of such abundance, it’s possible to eat so much that you no longer recognize hunger in yourself, and the only thought you might give to it is when someone says that you should “clean your plate because there are starving children in Africa” (or other country of choice). 

But I do know what it’s like to be hungry, not because I can’t afford food but because I no longer overeat. Comparing that to those who face hunger by force, I am both humbled and grateful that most of the time I don’t waste food any longer by eating what I don’t need. (Note that I am not advocating deliberately starving yourself, just following your body's natural hunger and fullness rhythms.)

This makes me think about my food choices in a more critical way. When I go grocery shopping, instead of buying so much that rather than waste excess food I’m tempted to “clean my plate” (which to my knowledge has never particularly helped anyone, starving or otherwise), I question what I”m buying. Could I make a less expensive choice? Do I truly need so much?

I may not save a lot of money doing this, but what I do save I’ve recently decided to set aside to help feed those who don’t always know when they’ll get a meal. And in doing so, I can feed both my own hunger and that of others with thoughtfulness and love.

Feeding with Love - Vitamin L

Have you ever heard someone say “I can taste the love” when eating food prepared by caring hands? Or have you noticed yourself how a dish made by a loved one tastes different somehow?

These subtleties come from what my health counseling program refers to as “vitamin L” - the love that goes into food as it’s being made. While this is not recognized among the standard micronutrients, the idea is that this is beneficial, and that food including this ingredient is better for us.

To be honest, I’m not quite sure how I feel about the concept of energy impacting the nutritional value of food. If something is made by a person who is angry, depressed, stressed, or lonely, does that really change the composition of the dish so that those eating it absorb those emotions via the food? I’m not sure.

What I do believe is that if someone is relaxed and joyful when cooking, and they’re making food for someone they care about, they are apt to be more careful. They will likely pay more attention to not only the quality of the result but also the presentation, wanting the food to be pleasing in every way. And I have to admit that given a choice between something mass-produced and packaged, or something homemade, even if they have the exact same ingredients, I’ll go for homemade every time. Whether from the nebulous vitamin L, or simply my perception being different when I know it was made with care, I find such food does taste different.

I’ve been keeping this in mind as I do my holiday baking and potluck cooking. Instead of getting stressed out by the busyness of the year, I put on music I enjoy, breathe deeply, relax and have fun with it.

But the other piece I like to remember is that this also holds true when I’m cooking for myself and no one else. Too often we neglect ourselves, thinking it’s too much effort for just one person, but I am just as deserving of food made with love and attention as anyone else. And so are you.

Approached this way, even the simplest of foods - scrambled eggs, grilled cheese sandwiches, steamed vegetables - are more satisfying. I can truly feel and taste the love, and I hope that you, too, find ways to add vitamin L to your meals and to all areas of your life.

Feeding with Love - Showing We Care

This time of year can be very rough for people trying to be careful of their weight and what they’re eating, because food is everywhere. Potlucks and holiday gatherings and food in the office and people giving you cookies and holiday fairs – it can be quite overwhelming.

What can make it even harder is that many people like to prepare food for those they care about. That can be wonderful, providing joy to both giver and receiver if it’s truly wanted and appreciated. But it can sometimes put uncomfortable pressure on the receiver. You feel like you’re obligated to eat because you know they made it for you. And if you try to politely decline, I’ve heard stories about the giver saying things like, “I made it just for you!” and “If you love me you’ll have some.”

I fully understand the desire to make food for people you care about. I discovered this joy in college, when I first made chocolate chip cookies the way I’d learned from my dad for people at work who had helped me through my initial rough adjustment period. I couldn’t have asked more from their reactions.

“Are you sure you didn’t use magic to make these taste so good?” one of the guys asked, after about his sixth cookie.

“Oh my God, they’re perfect!” another woman enthused. “It’s like eating a little piece of heaven.”

“They’re so moist and gooey,” my manager added. “They’re great.”

Hearing it made me feel warm and melty myself, and I realized how happy I was to be able to make good food for people that I liked. It’s something I continue do, particularly this time of year. My Christmas presents for the past few years have always included pumpkin muffins (made with pumpkin I get at the Farmer’s Market in the fall and bake down then freeze), often a variety of cookies, and sometimes, if I’m feeling adventuresome, things like caramel.

And I don’t just stick with the sweet. I recently made some soup and roasted root vegetables for a friend who has brand-new twin boys. I’m also on my church’s list of people to contact to provide meals to those who are ill or recovering.

The key for me is make sure that the people I’m giving the food to actually want it. I know that the goodies I make people for Christmas are appreciated and consumed, so I continue to make them. Baking things for church events (like the Holiday Fair) satisfies my baking itch while also providing something they’ve asked for. And I know personally how wonderful it is to get home-cooked meals when not in a position to make them myself, instead of having to rely on eating out or packaged meals.

And if people try to encourage me to eat when I don’t want to at that time? I may ask to take some home, or explain that I’m just too full from all the other good things and wouldn’t truly appreciate it just then, but maybe I could have the recipe? Or I may take just a tiny portion, enough for a bite to get the taste of it, because sometimes that’s the only thing you can do.

I also try to be careful that making food for people isn’t the only way I choose to show that I care for them. Hugs, cards, e-mails, phone calls, and smiles all help, too. And the times that I do express those feelings with food, I’m as respectful as possible of their wishes and preferences. To me, that is the best way to feed people with love.