What We Ate

God saw all that he had made, and it was very good.

—Genesis 1:31

Many of the most deeply spiritual moments of my life haven’t happened just in my mind or soul. They happened while holding my son in the middle of the night, or watching the water break along the shore, or around my table, watching the people I love feel nourished in all sorts of ways.

The idea that faith and meaning happen in your mind or soul where no one can see them is one of the worst by-products of modern Christianity. We are physical beings. And physical isn’t negative. If we didn’t have bodies, we couldn’t feel the sun on our faces or smell the earthy, mushroom-y rich smell of the ground after the rain. If we didn’t have bodies, we couldn’t wrap our arms around the people we love or taste a perfect tomato at the height of summer. I’m so thankful to live in this physical, messy, blood-and-guts world. I don’t want to live in a world that’s all dry ideas and theorems. Food is one of the ways we acknowledge our humanity, our appetites, our need for nourishment. It may seem trivial to some people, but when I’m telling a story, the part about what we ate really does matter.