In Star Wars, the real fight is a spiritual one. This, we know intimately, because this is also our fight.
Worshipping at the temple of Amazon does not leave much attention-span for the plight of my black, brown, immigrant or Muslim brothers and sisters. If Christmas is not about hope for them and for me, then what is the point?
“How does one articulate the coming to faith, a life saved by God, in light of having been made a slave and then being set free from human slavery, that is, in light of a far more determinative transformation of one’s life?” Willie James Jennings asks.
It would be imperialistic of us to presume that “we’re all saying the same thing.” But I do think there’s truth in Paul McCartney’s words: “When the brokenhearted people living in the world agree, there will be an answer, let it be.”
“I don’t see color!” How many times have you heard that? There’s a childlike simplicity to that statement. I understand the temptation. “Can’t we all just get along?”
Food, especially when eaten in community, nourishes souls as much as it does bodies. Food is an instrument of Communion. Meals bring families together. Friends show friendship by cooking for one another. Giving and receiving hospitality is where we meet God. Foodservice is a symphony of seemingly menial tasks that come together to create some of the most important experiences of humanity. It’s one of the most important vocations on the planet, so much more important than other jobs we pay people a lot of money for. Cooks, servers and dishwashers help people to be together, and what is more important than that?