The Significance of a Meal

We are living in somewhat of a staid, prosaic time. At least, this seems to be true with respect to symbols and symbolism. Compared to other times (not that I’ve lived in one) we seem comparatively sparse in this arena. But we do still have some well-recognized symbols, such as the wedding ring. Everyone understands that, while the ring isn’t what makes you married, it is powerfully bound up with the fact of a marriage. Removing the ring, throwing the ring, giving back the ring, selling the ring- we clearly understand what these mean to the thing signified.

Lately, another symbol struck me with particular force because, while a symbol, it seemed somehow to actually embody somehow the reality of what it symbolizes. I mean that, while a symbol, it is at the same time more than a symbol. It’s as if wearing the ring made you married, and removing it made you unmarried. The ring doesn’t have that kind of magic power. But I think a meal has a magic power of this sort.

In the Old Testament of the Bible, meals seem to have a huge significance. Let’s leave to greater minds the Passover meal, and the manna in the desert. I want to think about how often people would seal a deal with a meal. Especially a peace pact. If there was tension or overt hostility, and the two parties made a settlement, the next thing they did was to sit down and share a meal. To me, this does more than signify being at peace. This is to actually be at peace. I have no idea why. Possibly it is because sitting at a table is a very defenseless position. Possibly it is because we are sharing our human-ness, our very basic need to eat. I really don’t know. It is a very nice symbol of being at peace, but it’s more than just a symbol.

I have had the misfortune of sharing a meal with people when we were very upset with each other. I suppose everyone has, but this wasn’t being ill at ease, or having a tired or strained relationship. This was a situation where something awful had just happened and we were, and still are, completely estranged as a result. But for the sake of appearance, or our own warped pathologies, it somehow didn’t seem like an option to have it out. It didn’t seem bearable to open the can of worms and risk things getting worse. So everyone smiled (sort of) and ate the sawdust. Or maybe it was food. I couldn’t tell. This really was more than the violation of a symbol. Just as perjury is more than doing a bad thing, but is actually the destruction of your character, so this sharing of a meal in anger was more than the abrogation of a nice symbol. This was the actual tearing of some mystic fabric. If I knew then what I know now, I think I would have refused to eat, whatever the overt consequences.

To share a meal is to be at peace. To be at peace is to share a meal. The violation of this helped me to realize it.

Let’s consider the Christian rite of communion. On one level, I suspect because God wanted to demonstrate that this is something no human would ever make up, communion is a cannibalistic blood ritual. Wow. Can’t go there right now! On another level, I had always thought it was a time to feel guilty and bad about what awful things Christ had to do, and how it was my fault. Wrong. Granted, like everybody else, I have no lack of things to feel guilty about, and those things are truly what caused the most horrible crime in history. But God chose to memorialize Christ’s sacrifice in a particular symbol: a meal. And that changes everything.

In communion, you and your savior sit at table together. You smile at each other. You are at peace; you are relaxing together. You are relaxing with someone for whose death you are guilty. And you eat the most expensive food in the galaxy, his treat, just to help you understand that bygones are bygones.

What I’ve described really is beautiful symbolism, at least to me. But what makes my jaw sag most weeks is the reality of it. It’s more than symbolism: somehow, it really is the actual thing signified.

How do we manage to keep all this a secret? Perhaps by being ignorant of it ourselves? I was a conscientious Christian for upwards of 30 years before all this was pointed out to me. Man, did I ever miss a lot of fun. I keep wondering now if there is some way to let everyone else in on this.