Dear People, Neighbours, and Friends of St. Thomas’s,
When Anne and I married, we started praying together a simple table grace that is in use in her family: “Give us grateful hearts, our Father, and keep us ever mindful of the needs and wants of others. Amen.” Often, now, one or both of our children will prompt us to pray, or begin the prayer on his or her own initiative.
Before I met Anne, I was already familiar with this table grace, with the exception of the words “and wants,” which Anne’s family added to the traditional sentence, because our desires, even if not “needs” in the strict sense of the word, still merit our attentiveness.
As a priest, when asked outside the home to offer grace, I dress up this prayer by tacking on “through Jesus Christ our Lord,” and crossing myself like the pious Anglo-Catholic cleric I am. I find that at wedding receptions and funeral collations, those present appreciate a brief, to the point, and yet meaningful prayer. At other times, I will add a sincere intention, such as “and keep us ever mindful of the needs and wants of others, especially those who are suffering in this pandemic” or “particularly those who tend to our needs by providing this food.” But the basic prayer is the same whether at home or at some other table: “Give us grateful hearts, our Father, and keep us ever mindful of the needs and wants of others.”
Oftentimes, I feel like a hypocrite when I pray this simple prayer. This is particularly the case when I am grumpy before a meal (I can get “hangry”). Most of the time I am decidedly not mindful of the needs and wants of others. I am mostly mindful of my own needs and wants. Which is why praying the prayer, even hypocritically, is so important. Sometimes (not oftentimes, mind you, but just sometimes), after I’ve had a few bites to eat, I am able to offer an apology to someone whose needs or wants I have overlooked or willfully neglected. And since my companions (literally, those with whom one breaks bread), that is, my closest relatives and friends, are the ones who get the brunt of my shadow side, I have plenty of opportunities to attempt to make amends. This is one reason why family dinners, with all of us at the table and none of us on a digital device or engrossed in other distractions, are so important to Anne and me: Family dinner is a place of nourishment, refreshment, and fellowship, yes, but it is also an important locus of repentance, reconciliation, and amendment of life.
Meals give us plenty of opportunity to attempt amendment of life, in fact. Even in attempting to be a better person, I’m not so much a hypocrite as I am a failure. I eat too much or too little. I take the biggest home-baked cookie rather than leaving it for another to enjoy. But every once in a while, I am given the grace to practise self-discipline, or generosity, or some other virtue. Occasionally, I will reflect on my attitude towards the food in front of me and interrogate what hunger I’m really trying to satisfy by it.
In Life in Christ, the book some of us are discussing over our lunch hour on Thursdays, as you may recall from a previous letter, Julia Gatta begins from the premise that “human beings are a bundle of desires,” but that “underneath all these desires is a profound longing for something we can scarcely describe. Indeed, until we begin to notice that our desires really have no bounds—that they signal an infinite longing woven into our very humanity—our cravings are apt to multiply exponentially, pull us in all directions, and inevitably disappoint…” As with many other spiritual writers, Julia Gatta affirms that God is at the bottom of all our desires, that “God has instilled this infinite desire in us precisely so it might lead us back to Infinite Love.”
But the sad truth is that our desires in and of themselves do not necessarily lead us on a path that ends inevitably in communion with God. Far from it. Our desires may have their origin in God, but without God’s help, they are more likely to lead us astray. As someone who hears confessions and someone who makes confessions, I know this all too well. We all stand in need of God’s infinite mercy and grace.
Perhaps this need for grace is why we say “grace” before meals. Over the years, I’ve come to understand grace as the help we need that can only come from God. It is power that we are given when we need it the most, not from a reserve of power that we have stored up within ourselves, but precisely from a Source external to us, though sometimes working quietly within us. And quite often, thank God, grace works actively through other people whom God puts in our paths. (Not all of these vessels of God’s grace make us happy that they are in our lives, by the way, except perhaps in retrospect. A person who holds us accountable may be more “full of grace” than the friend in whose company we delight, after all.)
This relationship between grace and eating came up this past Thursday, when the Life in Christ group discussed the chapter on that peculiar meal central to Christian faith and practice: Holy Communion. Julia Gatta reflects at one point on Jesus’ companions on the road to Emmaus, who are so hindered by their presuppositions, preoccupations, grief, and disillusionment that they are hindered from seeing Jesus and recognizing him until he takes the bread, give thanks, and breaks the bread, giving it to them. Only in the breaking of the bread do they see Jesus for who he really is. Only then does he become fully and truly present to them. And yet, frustratingly, in that story, it is in that very moment of recognition and communion that he disappears from their physical sight! We spent some time on Thursday talking about the way in which the Church teaches that Jesus is truly present with us in worship, in Word and Sacrament, through the hearing of Scripture and the breaking of the bread. We barely scratched the surface of why, through over two thousand years of Christian practice, the bread and wine of the Eucharist should be so strongly identified with the Body and Blood of Christ himself, and not merely metaphorically. And we wrestled with Julia Gatta’s claim that the Eucharist “is the only food that satisfies our bottomless hunger for God,” with some doubting whether that was true for everyone, or could be true, or even should be true.
In a later conversation, thanks to a parishioner, it was brought to my attention that a lot of people have complicated relationships with food. Some have diagnosable eating disorders; others find that they are forced to be careful about their diets if they want to maintain their health; others are just plain picky eaters or not picky enough. Some of us love food so much that all we would do is eat if we could, while others find eating a chore, particularly if they are responsible for doing all the cooking! In wondering what could help us bring the healthy and holy attitude towards the heavenly food we partake of in Holy Communion into the attitudes we manifest towards our daily bread, the subject of table graces arose. In addition to the family grace with which I began this letter, several years ago, my family was gifted with a beautiful little book entitled Family Graces. The twenty-seven prayers in this collection were edited, typeset, and printed by a remarkable man whose daughter gave us a copy. The book is as beautiful as it is profound, and as rare as well, since only sixty copies were made! In the postscript below, I share with you just a few of my favourite prayers from this collection, with italicized notes by yours truly and endnotes from the editor. May you find them sources of grace in your own meals, whether at home or away.
Yours in Christ’s service,
N.J.A. Humphrey+
VIII Rector
P.S. Here are some selected prayers from Table Graces, all of which are believed by the book’s editor to be in the public domain.
5. Be present at our table, Lord; for in the breaking of our bread we remember thee.
6. O God who givest sustenance to every living thing, replenish our hearts with strength and gladness, that we may abound to every good work, through our Lord Jesus Christ.
7. Blessed be the Lord, who daily helps us and pours his benefits upon us.
14. Lord Jesu Christ, without whom nothing is sweet or savoury, we beseech thee to bless us and our supper, and with thy blessed presence to cheer our hearts, that in all our meats and drinks we may taste and savour of thee, to thy honour and glory.
16. O God who rejoicest in the love of families and the affection of friends, grant that we who meet over this food may always and unfeignedly delight in each other's welfare and so walk together in the path of thy service, that finally we may be united forever at thy feet; through Jesus Christ our Saviour.
17. (Sung to the tune of Tallis’s Canon)
Be present at our table, Lord
Be here and everywhere ador’d.
Thy children bless, and grant that we
May feast in paradise with thee.
18. (May also be sung to the tune of Tallis’s Canon)
Lord Jesus, be our holy guest,
Our morning joy, our evening rest.
And with our daily bread impart
Thy love and peace to every heart.
20. O God who with no sparing hand bestowest upon us the varied fruits of the earth: Let us, who freely receive, also always freely give; through him who gave himself for us all, thy Son Jesus Christ our Lord.
22. Blessed art thou, O Lord our God, King of the universe, who feedest the whole world with thy goodness, with grace, with loving-kindness and tender mercy; thou givest food to all flesh, for thy loving-kindness endureth for ever. (Translated by the editor from Hebrew, the text of which is also given.)
23. Oculi omnium in te sperant, Domine. Et tu das escam illorum in tempore opportuno. Gloria tibi, Domine.
All eyes look to thee in hope, O Lord, and thou givest them their meat in due season. Glory be to thee, O Lord. (My translation of #23.)
24. Mensae caelestis participes nos facias, Rex aeternae gloriae.
Make us participants in the heavenly banquet, King of Eternal Glory. (My translation of #24.)
25. Qui de rore dapes dedit, et de petra bibendum; qui convertit aquas liquidas in vina Falerna; qui siccis pelagi pedibus superambulat undas; augeat ipse suis famulis sua dona benignus.
May he who provided banquets from dew and water from the rock; who turned clear water into the choicest wine; and who walked on the waves of the sea with dry feet, so graciously increase his gifts to us his people. (Translated by the editor from the Latin above.)
26. Stretch out, O our Lord and our God, the right hand of thy mercy from thy holiness above and bless this food of thy servants and thy worshippers; in thy threefold name: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, to all ages. (Translated by the editor from Syriac, the text of which is also given.)
27. Thou, Lord Almighty, didst create all things for thy name's sake, and gavest food and drink to us for our enjoyment, that we mightest give thee thanks; and to us thou didst grant spiritual food and drink and life eternal, through thy Son. To thee be glory for ever. Amen. (Translated by the editor from Greek, the text of which is also given.)
SELECTED SOURCES
Grace no. 14 is quoted from an English Primer of 1545 (SIC 16037, f. 4r).… Nos. 16 and 20 are based on prayers in A. Campbell Fraser, A Book of Prayers (Oxford, 1932). No. 22 is the beginning of the…Grace after meals (Authorized daily prayer book of the United Hebrew Congregations of the British Empire, 1914 ed., P. 286). [No.] 23 [is] Psalm 145.15 in Latin (plus doxology)…. No. 25 is a prayer attributed to Alcuin (PL 101.778). No. 26 is adapted from the Taksa of the Church of the East (Urmia ed., p. 101). No. 27…[is] quoted from the Didache of the Twelve Apostles, ch. 10.