Faith Works 3-22-24

Faith Works 3-22-24
Jeff Gill

Eating in haste, but with memory
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In one of the Lenten readings I heard this reminder, from the establishment of the Passover meal at Exodus 12:11 —

"In this manner you shall eat it: with your belt fastened, your sandals on your feet, and your staff in your hand. And you shall eat it in haste. It is the LORD's Passover."

It occurred to me that in today's world, we eat quite a few Passovers, almost every day. But of course, not really.

We do eat in haste, too often. We eat with our belts fastened and running shoes on, the car idling outside in the drive. Translate all that as you will. We eat ready to go, if not on the road. We eat in haste.

In the ancient world, so much was different, but we can draw some connections, infer some lessons. Often, eating was more like twice a day. You'd break your overnight fast of a morning, get to work, pause for water, perhaps a snack or bite to eat at noon, but then dine later.

As some scholars have it, it wasn't three squares a day as we have an expectation of, but more like many small meals, only one main meal. Breakfast, the immortal second breakfast, midday collations and tea time late in the afternoon all define an English model, of a time gone by, with various pauses for nourishment before a true supper. In the days of Jesus, we're less sure, but the idea of one major time for eating the most substantial meal seems most common.

So if you aren't pulling some pieces of pita bread out of your pouch, walking from one vineyard to another, or between hauls on the net in the Sea of Galilee, if we're not talking about those more solitary and hurried repasts, we're looking at something more formal, more measured.

To be part of a real supper time, you removed your sandals, with a servant or even your host's family washing your feet. Your leather belt, from which various pouches or tools might hang, is removed. Staffs are left by the door. You're going to be here for a while, and once the stew or pottage or baked dish was in the coals, everyone would stay put, tell stories, sing songs, relax.

One argument about the so-called Mediterranean diet is that the healthful effects claimed for it are less to do with the vegetables and vitamins and nutrition in it, as is the cultural context of sitting down at a table, pouring wine you savor slowly, and enjoying company as much as the food. (Think "Mamma Mi" on a Greek island, right?)

Jesus and the disciples for their Passover would be looking forward to the main meal of the day, the main source of strength on the table, but also to the fellowship surrounding them.

They knew, as we read now in Exodus, that their heritage was the "bread of haste" and a lamb to be slain and expeditiously consumed, but then and now in today's Passover gatherings, the hurried context is a memory, while the remembering takes some time.

When we eat in haste today, often in the car, let alone with the car keys or staff in our hand, we are in a blur of forgetting. We forget where our food comes from, what a blessing it is, and too often we eat it alone.

Passover, and Maundy Thursday, and all the remembrance of the upper room which haunts our culture even at its most secular, where bread and cup represent life, and bodies, and blood: they all should remind us to take a moment, say grace, and be thankful.


Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; he's eaten too often out of drive-up windows himself. Tell him how you slow down to remember at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack77 on Threads.