October 26, 2014
Dinnertime at the Baileys has always been a family affair. It's hard for me to conceive of the way so many families do (or don't do) dinner. I've talked with kids who basically are on their own when it comes to eating. Dinnertime is more akin to foraging than sitting down to a meal. The way television portrays homemade family mealtime would be amusing if it weren't so sad, with someone popping a prepared meal from the freezer to the microwave, then serving it on fine china with everyone smiling beatifically as if this had some remote semblance to home cooking.
I have to pause here with praise for Linda, my wife. She used to tell me how amazed she was that I would choose a profession that required the writing of the equivalent of a term paper each week. I always found it amazing that even while holding down a full time job as a teacher, volunteering as a Sunday School teacher and Bible study leader, she was able to put genuine home cooked meals on our plates nearly every night, day in and day out, week after week, month after month, year after year. If I had had the responsibility for planning and cooking those meals for all those years, we would have starved long ago. On top of it all, I retired from preaching last July; she is still cooking.
Even today, we derive great pleasure from meal times. We can usually finish the eating in a relatively short time. It doesn't take long to fill our stomachs. But the meal itself can take an hour or more as we sit and talk. It's always been that way. Sure, there were times when we've been rushed; when the kids were swimming, juggling meals, rides, swim practices and meets took quite a bit of finesse, but with rare exception we sat down together to eat and talk. And talk we did! Nate and Matt often regaled us with stories of their school day antics which we used to think were somewhat embellished for the sake of the story. We're not so sure about that anymore. It wasn't unusual for us to sit at the table for a couple hours, talking, laughing, discussing matters great and small. I don't remember ever telling the kids this, but I took seriously the Eucharistic character of mealtime. Jesus took a meal and transformed it from a simple meal into a celebration of his Presence. That's what mealtimes were at our house. They still are.
All this is why yesterday's conversation struck me so forcefully. We were sitting at dinner with the inmates, long tables reminiscent of high school lunchtime. I am not a fussy eater. Put it in front of me, and I can usually chow it down. This particular meal was to all appearances, a fast-food chicken patty reject, with collard greens and what I thought was mashed potatoes, but turned out to be rice pudding wannabe. The ketchup, served up in fast food packets, was runny and tasted of plastic. I swear it could have been outdated McDonald's, vintage circa 1957. Salt and pepper are nowhere to be seen. I was chewing away, content with everything except the ketchup, while others were commenting rather unfavorably on the meal, while an older grandfatherly-like gentleman was sitting opposite me. He told me how thankful he was for it. He had lost forty pounds since being in, and that he said, was to his benefit. But it was what he said next that was an arrow to my heart. "This is a wonderful gift. We are sitting here, talking. We usually have ten minutes to eat, and we eat in silence. To sit down and converse at a meal is a real treat."
I can understand the rationale behind short, silent meals in prison. With a young and often angry population, common areas need to be carefully controlled lest a petty irritation or slight suddenly flare into violence. Prisons can be volatile places. But it struck me as sad that in our sin we have turned the times Jesus gave us for building community into times and places of isolation. Their meals may feed the body, but the soul starves. I wish there were some way to transform mealtime for these men into the life-giving eucharistic experience intended by God. There may be, but I don't know how one would go about it.
Jesus told us to eat in remembrance of him until the day he shares that meal with us in his eternal kingdom. The brokenness of sin has penetrated human life so catastrophically that the very heart of his salvation is denied to these men, and countless prisoners worldwide. Even sadder is how it is unnecessarily neglected by so many who have the means and opportunity to feed both body and soul, but fail to do so. I am so grateful that our daily meals are eucharistic experiences where Christ is revealed as we eat and talk and pray...and give thanks.
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