HAITI
BY PATRICK SAINT-JEAN, S.J.
“ While they were eating, Jesus took a loaf of bread, and after blessing it he broke it, gave it to the disciples, and said, ‘Take, eat; this is my body.’ ”
Photo © Kim Cruickshnaks; VectorStock
( M A T T H E W 26:26)
hese words are well known to anyone who is familiar with the Catholic eucharistic liturgy. Whatever our beliefs about the precise theological meaning of these morsels of bread, we have probably set this ceremonial meal into a category all its own, separated from the ordinary meals we eat to satisfy our hunger and sustain our bodies. But let’s imagine for a moment that we are one of the disciples, hearing Jesus speak these familiar words for the first time. When he said, “Take, eat,” he meant it quite literally. A meal was laid out on the table, and he and his friends had gathered to share it. Basically, Jesus was saying, “Bon Appetit! Enjoy!” But then his next words changed everything: “This is my body.” If you’re sitting at the table with Jesus, what is your reaction to those words? I suspect you may have barely noticed them at the time; your mouth was full of bread and olives and cheese. You probably wouldn’t have thought you were suddenly munching on the flesh of your friend. It was only afterward, looking back, that you and your friends would try to make sense of Jesus’ odd words and actions. I believe Jesus was saying that food—all food—tells us something about divine love. The very essence of Jesus—the selfsurrender that brings life and growth—is expressed by the physical nutrition we take in. Food is important in American culture, as it is in most cultures, but our relationship with it has often become complicated, sometimes even unhealthy. We forget that food links us to
the Earth, to all life, to one another, and ultimately to God. We overlook the fact that we are nourished by the deaths of countless plants and animals; we don’t remember that with each bite, we are eating sunlight and rain, soil and minerals; and we don’t see the many human hands that farmed and tended the land, that harvested and packed, that shipped and processed, creating those seemingly ready-made foods that show up on our grocery store’s shelves. In my birthland of Haiti, it’s easier to see the connections that food expresses. We see the farms where our food grows, and the distance between table and field is narrow. Food is the focal point of our family and community lives. It is how we
“The very essence of Jesus—the self-surrender that brings life and growth—is expressed by the physical nutrition we take in.” express love to one another, celebrate together, and share and comfort one another during sorrowful times. Let me introduce you to one of my family’s favorite foods: soup joumou. It’s made from beef and winter squash, but its broth is also rich with celery, leeks, radishes, garlic, parsley, carrots, onions, cabbage, and potatoes. We eat it with bread, dipping chunks into the soup. It’s delicious, and my mouth waters just thinking about it. It is a food so vital to Haitian A M AT T E R O F S P I R IT
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