Normally, those of us who grew up in Christian homes were taught to say a murmuring, polite prayer before eating. Then we pick up our utensils and dutifully eat after we’ve gotten the God stuff out of the way and made sure the food was all “blessed to our bodies.” But what if the food was already blessed? What if God was right there in the melting cheese?
We normally think of prayer as eyes closed, head down, hands folded, shutting out the world and making sure we aren’t distracted by our hungers and our cravings.
But what if prayer can also be about experiencing the world around us? Laughing with others as we do so. What if we are hungry for a God we can feel, taste, smell? What if our cravings are more than a rumbling stomach but a spirit calling out for a life full of flavor? What if the prayer before the meal wasn’t the only way to bring God to the table? What if body and spirit are one?
What if food is the sensual invitation for us to come to God, instead of our sad little prayers being a mechanical invitation for God to come to us? What if we jumped right into every succulent bite knowing that it was God. That it was communion.
What if we prayed while eating?