I love the wisdom of Sabbath, even if I often find it challenging. Could stepping out of the kitchen one day a week be a proactive practice that helps me keep showing up with joy for cooking on the other six days?
I love the wisdom of Sabbath, even if I often find it challenging. Could stepping out of the kitchen one day a week be a proactive practice that helps me keep showing up with joy for cooking on the other six days?
This month as I write again about fasting in solidarity with the people of Gaza, I feel more hope. It’s morbid, angry, and grief-ridden, but it’s hope.
I think nature’s economy gives us a glimpse of God’s intent for us, a way of living in the world but not of the corrupt, unjust system that has come to be.
At food aid sites in Gaza, Israeli soldiers and drones are murdering people as they come to get food in the midst of a famine. It reminds me of a far less deadly (but still treacherous) entrapment stew in scripture.
For most of human culinary history, we knew hyperlocal plants’ attributes. We knew the vegetables and herbs and fruits and nuts and fungi personally.
