On the morning I wrote this, it was seven degrees when I walked outside. Seven. I didn’t stay outside long.
More Than Meets the Mouth
I love to eat. My wife and I occasionally joke about her love of a new blouse or home décor piece, and my love of books and dining out. I’m quick to point out the durability of books and the ideas they contain. But countering her argument that food doesn’t endure like a pair of pants took a moment or two, though not too long: “Honey, think of all of the times we’ve gone out to eat at a new restaurant. Think of all the amazing meals we’ve enjoyed. Think of all the dinners with friends that built, cultivated, and strengthened those relationships. Dining out is more than just the meal!”
Of course, she doesn’t disagree. And my aim in talking about food here is broader than restaurants. I think that food and the eating experience it creates is often an overlooked blessing. Yet this isn’t lost on others either.
I’ve enjoyed another Substack in recent months, This Needs Hot Sauce, “a weekly newsletter by Abigail Koffler about cooking, dining out, and making the most of it.” Koffler highlights restaurants of interest, recipes, and pictures of dishes she has enjoyed lately. I drool over these pictures. And whenever I’m in a local restaurant I always grab my complimentary copy of Sauce, a magazine that surveys the St. Louis area culinary scene each month. Somehow this picky eater turned into a foodie over the last 20 years.
My pallet has been shaped by southern culinary traditions and practices that I’ve grown to appreciate more as I age. As our grandparents have passed away, my wife and I have been intentional to rescue paper scraps with recipes, text message the aunt who knows the key to a certain dish, and occasionally bring special ingredients home from our travels.
Many influences have made me consider the nature of food and eating: living in different places, eating with peers from different countries, even the occasional question on my restaurant bill survey which asks me to grade the “look or appearance” of the food. Hmm, how did that food look?
But take another look at the two publications above. Neither are Christian or even religious, though perhaps they have a religious (read devotional) quality. Here people have turned their eyes to the stuff of creation (ingredients), the experts handling it (chefs), the setting for it (restaurants), and the glorious result (dishes). Now it’s possible to turn any created thing into an ultimate thing, an idol, we’d say. But it’s also possible that sometimes unbelievers help Christians notice something they’ve missed. In this case, the goodness of food.
Don’t misunderstand me: most all of us say “the blessing” with great regularity. But do we linger over them? Do we realize the miracle of food production, the skill of cooking, the delight of eating?
Notice how the psalmist taps into this metaphor of eating when he speaks of knowing and loving God: “Taste and see that the Lord is good!” (Ps. 34:8). The author of Hebrews speaks of those who have tasted salvation and God’s good Word (Heb. 6:4-5). If eating were reducible to “fueling up,” as many assume, it’s doubtful that the Holy Spirit would have used the sense of taste in this way. Yet food implicates the full range of senses: taste, smell, sight, touch, and hearing.
Eating creates opportunities to delight in creation, culinary skill, others’ hospitality, and of course, the unique way God has chosen to nourish humans. As my former academic advisor Norman Wirzba has elegantly written, “To eat is to savor and struggle with the mystery of creatureliness.” In other words, we must eat to survive, and yet it’s rather enjoyable to do so! Hear Wirzba again:
Whenever people come to the table they demonstrate with the unmistakable evidence of their stomachs that they are not self-subsisting gods. They are finite and mortal creatures dependent on God’s many good gifts: sunlight, photosynthesis, decomposition, soil fertility, water, bees and butterflies, chickens, sheep, cows, gardeners, farmers, cooks, strangers, and friends (and the list goes on and on). Eating reminds us that we participate in a grace-saturated world, a blessed creation worthy of attention, care, and celebration. Despite what food marketers may say, there really is no such thing as “cheap” or “convenient” food. Real food, the food that is the source of creaturely health and delight, is precious because it is a fundamental means through which God’s nurture and love for the whole creation are expressed.
To be sure, there are objectionable practices in the food industry. Less nutritious foods abound. And gluttony is a sin. But church members should take a closer look at what’s happening whenever they have their potluck meals or small group fellowship meals.
I think of a dear brother in his 80s. He loves pickled beets! He’s also been generous to share his home-grown delights with us each year. Unfortunately, due to a common side effect of cochlear implants, he can barely taste food. He still eats beets for the nutritional value, but he misses the taste so dearly. When I now eat them, I give thanks for his hard work, his generosity, and for the new creation that he and I will one day enjoy. I wouldn’t be surprised if beets will be grown in that renewed garden.
Whose Standard? Which Authority?
Recently a school board in the St. Louis metro area where I live voted to pull Toni Morrison’s The Bluest Eye from their district’s high school libraries. I haven’t read this book, only brief descriptions. But I’ve been thinking about these tumultuous battles that have been raging in the recent years in our nation’s school systems.
One part of me thinks, “Boy, in view of all that has happened in the last two years, are we sure we’re focused on the right problem?” I can think of some others. That said, I realize we can’t sidestep the question of which books will be available and used in schools.
Maybe the most important contribution that Christians could make to this subject is to appreciate the complexity of it. I’m not suggesting we turn Sunday School hour into a roundtable discussion of it, but part of our ability to think wisely is to think patiently and honestly about what’s actually in dispute. Here are a few considerations that seem to be reasonable to consider when thinking about the presence or exclusion of controversial books in the school system:
First, what is the stated objection to the book? Second, is the book being used as a primary textbook for a class, or is it simply part of a general collection in the library? Third, assuming the former, what is the precise manner in which teachers have been utilizing the book? Fourth, which library houses the book (elementary, middle, high school) or which grade level uses it? Fifth, are we willing to apply the same criteria to the entire collection as we have applied to the book in question? Sixth, who are the concerned parties? Students? Teachers? School Board members? Administration? Parents? Seventh, is the desire for there to be parental consent, or is the proposal to remove the book from usage and/or circulation entirely? Eighth, who will have the principal authority to purchase, assign, and/or review books for school usage?
There’s certainly enough to warrant a ninth and tenth, but I hope this establishes something that often seems lost on both certain kinds of progressives and certain kinds of conservatives: most of this stuff is complicated! Multiple parties are always somehow implicated in this arena, and therefore multiple perspectives, values, and goals are also implicated. The greater the diversity or complexity, the greater the degree of difficulty in reaching consensus.
Additionally, instruction in a public context is bound to generate a lot of heat, though not always a lot of light. Online rhetoric doesn’t help. As Kevin DeYoung recently wrote, “Social media has not been known to foster a spirit of charity or cultivate an intellectual atmosphere interested in careful distinctions and patient deliberation.”
Let’s put it another way. At the heart of sound thinking, intellectual integrity, good governance, and a host of other desirable goods, is the ability to make proper distinctions among things. [1] Nuance matters. It’s the difference between translating a sentence from the Greek New Testament as “God is love” versus “Love is god.” It’s the difference between resignation and retirement, suspension and expulsion, tradition and traditionalism.
The two crucial issues to resolve concerning book selection is a question of standards and one of authority. By what standard(s) will these decisions be made, and how might that standard be determined in a public educational context? And who will be the persons responsible for making such decisions, exclusively, primarily, and otherwise?
Let me offer one modest suggestion to Christian parents. Whether your children are students at universities studying the humanities, or they’re in high school or middle school English, understand this: your children will inevitably read things that they (and you) do not agree with. With the Lord’s help, we’re trying to raise children not to be snowflakes who are offended by anything and everything, as well as children who know how to identify and esteem that which is true, honorable, just, pure, lovely, commendable, and praiseworthy (Phil. 4:8). This will require different approaches at different stages of life, with an especially vigilant eye over the educational experiences of younger children, and always with an eye toward forming them to have discernment.
It’s difficult. But then again, that’s what makes it education!
Currently Reading:
The Premonition: A Pandemic Story by Michael Lewis
Canoeing the Mountains: Christian Leadership in Uncharted Territory by Tod Bolsinger
Super Bowl LVI is set! Who are you rooting for and why? And what’s your favorite Super Bowl party food? I’m opening the comment thread so you can let me know!
[1] Michael Sacasas does a beautiful job exemplifying this kind of analysis and distinction-making in his recent piece on virtual reality. Check it out at his Substack, The Convivial Society.