Lord, we thank thee for our food

Growing up in my parents' home it was a habit to pray twice at every meal and to read scripture at the table.  As a child this practice seemed normal to me, but I didn't appreciate it.  For me, it was simply a time to keep quiet and listen.  I once asked my Mom why it was that we prayed twice--at the beginning and at the end of the meal.  She told me that we prayed at the beginning of the meal to ask God to bless our food and our time together and we prayed at the end of the meal to give thanks to God for giving us food.  During Bible reading at the table we were expected to sit and listen quietly, and I as the youngest child had to "say the last word" to prove that I was listening.  As I grew old enough to read, I was sometimes asked to read the little devotional magazine called "The Family Altar", or perhaps to read the prayer at the bottom of the page.  I must say my parents were very disciplined about this ritual.

Our family always seemed to deeply appreciate our meals and to be aware that each meal was a gift.  Somehow though for me, the practice of saying a blessing and giving thanks at meals became thoughtless habit.  With my own children we prayed once at the beginning of each meal.  I don't recall reading the Bible together, not even once.  And now that the kids are grown I rarely bow my head to pray before a meal.

I've noticed this pattern also goes along with general ungratefulness.  I watch people around me fixate on food and health.  We are told to eat less sugar, eat only raw sugar, to eat gluten-free, and to eat only organic fruits and vegetables and "free range" chicken, or grass-fed beef.  There is a lot of chatter about healthy eating and long life and eating "whole" foods and minimally processed food.  But these conversations never happened in my childhood.  My mother was a widow with four children to support.  We were grateful for whatever food there was on the table.  My Mom made things like "chili soup" which was chili made with one pound of hamburger and cups of extra water to make it "stretch".  We ate "spam sandwiches" and "radish sandwiches".  My Mom cut the mold off our white bread and had us eat the rest of the slice.  I remember eating freezer burned "frozen dessert" which kind of looked a little like ice cream.  But I at least, never knew that we were in danger of going hungry.  There was always food on the table, and we were taught over the years to be thankful for it.  We knew our food came from God, our creator, and from the generosity of our church family and neighbors.

I look around at the grocery store today and see the multitude of food choices and I am shocked at how rich we all have become.  The fact that we have the time and money to treat our diets like an idol...to order our whole lives around what we eat is astounding.  Does anyone else see ungratefulness in our fixation on food and fitness?

So starting now I'm going to resurrect the practice of saying a blessing over my food, if for no other reason than to remind myself of what a miracle it is that we are fed every. single. day.  We never go hungry, and in fact we are so fortunate that we can make costly choices in the purchase and preparation of our food.   Someday even when those choices are taken away, I hope to be able to find it in my heart to be truly grateful for each meal.