The joy of not having it now.

Last night’s menu for dinner was kale salad with figs, sweet potato greens in a coconut milk sauce and caramelized Japanese turnips.  I’ve never eaten a meal exactly like that, but that is just par for the course this summer.  Our meals this summer have been defined by the contents of our weekly box from a community supported agriculture share and the output of our small backyard garden.  Menu planning has been turned on its head.  Instead of starting with what we want to eat, and then shopping for and cooking exactly what we want, we begin with what is available to cook, and then build our menu from there.  The menu becomes our response to the natural flow of the season.  It is a powerful metaphor for living our life as a response to God.

In yesterday’s sermon, our pastor used the phrase “I want it, and I want it now” to describe self-centered society and the consumer marketing that panders to our desires.  He, too, saw the menu as metaphor, noting a fast food chain’s recent shift to offer breakfast anytime.  Jesus’ teaching runs counter to this mindset.  Approach Jesus like a child.  Approach as one who does not control what happens.  In this approach, Jesus offers us the chance for a wholeness that will never be found in a consumer good.

I have not only succeeded at submitting to the flow of the summer crops, I have been blessed abundantly by doing so.  Newly discovered dishes.  The joy of feeling aligned with nature.  Reaping what we have sown.  These have been my blessings for eating what is available.  I have experienced firsthand the richness that come when I take myself out of the center.

Montauk in September is characterized by a gorgeous ocean, the monarch butterfly migration, spectacular weather and the richest of plant harvests.  Taking myself out of the center in those circumstances is about as easy as it gets.  Can I use these days as training for those times that the call to selflessness is much harder?  Can I get up each morning and not only ask the simple question “What will I eat today, Lord?” but ask the harder “What would you have me do today, Lord?”  When I am angry and want to lash out, will I be able to respond as Jesus taught, or will I fall back on “This is how I want to act.”

One of the points of this sabbatical year is to be able to have the space to listen, to learn, to respond.  My prayer for this time is that I will be able to respond to God’s will for my life and allow that to define what I want for my life as well.  I look forward to finding life’s equivalent to Japanese turnips, sweet potato greens and kale.