Acceptance and Joy
My mind and spirit feel jumbled this week. I’m still thinking about a funeral I officiated on Saturday, experiencing the grief of losing a parishioner who was very dear to me. A couple of members of our family are struggling, and there are limits on what I can do to help. The anniversary of the September 11th terrorist attacks and the tension surrounding the upcoming election remind me we live in anxious times. Holding onto all of life sometimes feels like a lot, doesn’t it?
When I feel this way, I often find myself gravitating toward the kitchen. Baking normally requires planning in advance, but sometimes I search the refrigerator and cabinets and imagine what I can do with the ingredients I find. I then bake something familiar or experiment with a new recipe. Baking invites me to set aside everything crashing around in my brain. For me, it’s prayerful and meditative. When I’m finished, my mind and spirit feel settled, and I have something tasty to eat!
As I shared this experience with a retired pastor I met last week, he asked me how he might frame his baking with prayer. Instead of suggesting specific prayers, I offered two “themes” to focus his mind and spirit. First, start your baking with a prayer of gratitude. We give thanks to God before a meal, so why not do so before we bake? Give thanks to God for the ingredients, the tools, the creator of the recipe and the ability to make something delicious and pleasing.
Second, as you approach the end of the baking process, pray for a spirit of acceptance. If you’re trying a new recipe, it might fail. If you’re baking a favorite recipe, it might turn out differently than you expect because of factors outside your control (such as the humidity level in your kitchen). Unless you’re a pastry chef, nothing you bake will be perfect. Though the end result may not be what you wish, even failures can be delicious. And you’ve learned something, right? Acceptance transforms baking into a joyful task instead of an onerous one.
We live in a culture that demands much of us. American society rewards long hours of work and study, striving for achievement, and seeking to be the best. Mastery and success matter above all else. But is this really the goal of life? Will our minds and spirits be any more settled and at peace because we are the best at anything?
In her book, By Bread Alone, Kendall Vanderslice writes, “The goal [of baking] should not be mastery in and of itself, but curiosity and joy. Breadmaking, like faith, is a craft to hone over the course of a lifetime, a truth that is at once exciting and liberating.”
As I get older, I find myself seeking joy instead of achievement. This is, after all, what Jesus desires for us. “I have said these things to you,” he said in the 15th chapter of John’s gospel, “so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete.” This joy won’t change all of the things swirling through life. But when I stop trying to master it all, when I’m grateful for the life I have and accept God’s presence and love in it, I’m filled with the peace of Christ which settles my mind and spirit.
