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Slow foodFriday, February 27, 2009
Isaiah 58:3-9 "Why have we fasted," they say, "and you have not seen it? Why have we humbled ourselves, and you have not noticed?" Yet on the day of your fasting, you do as you please and exploit all your workers. Your fasting ends in quarreling and strife, and in striking each other with wicked fists. You cannot fast as you do today and expect your voice to be heard on high. Is this the kind of fast I have chosen, only a day for a man to humble himself? Is it only for bowing one's head like a reed and for lying on sackcloth and ashes? Is that what you call a fast, a day acceptable to the Lord? Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen: to loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free and break every yoke? Is it not to share your food with the hungry and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter--when you see the naked, to clothe him, and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood?
Then your light will break forth like the dawn, and your healing will quickly appear; then your righteousness will go before you, and the glory of the Lord will be your rear guard. Then you will call, and the Lord will answer; you will cry for help, and he will say: Here am I.
My ability to think highly of myself seems to be very finely tuned. I really am very grateful that God has freed me from junk- shame and false-guilt, that He guides me through new legalisms every day into a place of freedom. But I know that I am missing something when I take too good care of myself. A friend told me tonight that he picks and chooses his good deeds according to the measure they benefit him. Welcome to the club. That sounds just too much like me. I might be dis-sing myself a little here, but on the other hand the standards we set for each other are mostly pretty low. In my insulated world I have few direct opportunities to feed the hungry or clothe the naked. The money I might provide to others who do the dirty work isn't a bad thing, of course. But I just can't stop thinking about the testimony of Jean Vanier, a rich kid who decided to take the words of Isaiah literally.* And I remember Mother Teresa and the thousands of men and women who testify to really hearing and seeing Jesus for the first time only when they left their creature comforts and took off for Calcutta. As I write this I am perhaps most grateful for God's patience while I sit down ever so slowly at his table, only to pick at the marvelous foods he provides, pretending perhaps to be savoring every morsel but also afraid to eat too much and get a spiritual stomach ache. God knows me so well. He knows all those rationalizations. And he loves me just as much as ever. He will let me take my time, and he will welcome every tiny thing I get up the gumption to give. Oh what a good God to sit down with at dinner.
Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew your right spirit within me. Cast me not away from your presence, and take not your Holy Spirit from me. Restore unto me the joy of your salvation, Lord. |
This is one of my favorite Bible passages, especially during Lent, especially while I am at least thinking about toughening up some part of my outrageously comfortable life. But I usually think of myself on the righteous side of things: God is describing me toward the end of these verses, right? Not at the beginning.