Do you ever notice time flying by so quickly– things happening so rapidly– that you hardly have time to catch your breath? I like times like those because I know I’m being active and productive. Still, sometimes I have to just sit down and write in order to compile everything that I think and feel about all that has happened.

Where do I begin?

Jesus.

Okay, let’s start with Jesus. I had a realization this weekend.

The kids are going to school at a church school. In fact, they’re going to a school at the church where both Landon & I were baptized. It’s a great situation; I think that private schools teach children differently… better in a million ways than public schools. The class sizes are smaller and the kids get more individual attention. The teachers, I think, have better control over the kids, too. And I like that the kids are learning about God and Jesus and the Bible and the commandments and all– even if that’s not exactly what I believe. I should have anticipated it when Tyler came home one day and had learned the common Lutheran table prayer: yunno, “Come Lord Jesus…”

This set me off to thinking.

I’m not really into saying the table prayer myself, because like I said, I don’t really believe that way. I’ve been a quiet observer of the table prayer for many years now– my family says it at holiday meals, as do Landon’s grandparents when we’re at their place for dinner. I just bow my head and sit silently, respectfully, because it’s not my place to judge others for their beliefs… that’s what works for them, and I encourage and embrace their saying the table prayer before eating. It’s not that I’m not thankful for my food, I am. However, I am not compelled to thank some all powerful dude–ahem, Dude– in the sky for my food. I’ll express my gratitude to the person who cooked the food and to the person(s) who provide the food. So when Tyler asked if we could say the prayer here, I obliged them saying it, but had no desire to say it myself. Hell, I’m the one who provides the food here. Yes, yes, thank you to my job for paying me so that I could do so.

Now, let’s fast forward a bit. Last weekend, I began reading The Celestine Prophecy. Great book, I should add. You can look at it on Amazon from the link on the right side of the page under “Suggested Reading…” Anyway, something that struck me in the book was about the description of how the food is more nourishing when you put energy into it as it grows. There is this part in the very beginning that talks about how plants thrive more when they meditate on them and how they were doing research to prove that people got more nourishment from the plants they ate which were meditated on when they were growing.

I liked this idea! I am already a witness to the difference in how a plant grows based on how much love and energy you put into them. I am also familiar with the water studies that were performed by the scientist Dr. Masaru Emoto on how water that is given loving messages (or energy) crystallizes into beautiful intricate crystals, whereas water that is given negative, fearful messages crystallizes into disjointed, chaotic crystals. (I put one of his books on the Amazon store, too.) Since plants are “fed” mostly water, this would make sense as far as to how well and how nourishing they would be for our own bodies…

And… back to prayer. What is prayer, after all? It’s speaking to a higher being, a higher self, should you believe it in the way that I do. Prayer is a form of meditation if it’s done fervently. It’s a request of the Universe, really, a request of a God, or an expression of gratitude.

In a lot of ways, it makes sense to bless the food before you eat it. Now I just had to get over the idea that we were giving thanks to this Dude in the sky– someone I didn’t really buy into as the one we really ought to be praying to.

After a long conversation with Landon, though, I feel like I have a little bit better understanding on how it’s not only good, but it’s also somehow the right thing to do. So, let me see if I can put this down into words…

Basically, there was this fellow named Jesus. He was enlightened, and had a helluva lot to teach the people in his time. He was such a different thinker of his time, that he was powerful beyond the government and religious folks who were in charge. This was probably the exact reason why they crucified him. He was a smart dude–err, Dude, and he had some really relevant points that no one else before him had really touched on. In fact, he was SO on with his teachings, that he got himself a following. People would give up their lives for this man to follow him and hear what he said– much like the people in the time of Buddha and his followers. Anyway, he was a great Dude, and very much of what he had to say fell right in line with the things I believe in. I have no beef with Jesus. Generally speaking, I like the guy and what he had to say.

What exactly, then, was my problem with saying a prayer to him (Him)? To me, it was the point that I wasn’t going to fall in line, behaving in ways I used to, sort of to prove that I’m not a Christian any longer. Those past things aren’t what I believe any longer, so I’m not going to pretend like I’m something I’m not. The rebellion in me, so to speak.

It was a quiet rebellion. One that was for myself and myself only. I didn’t disrupt anyone by bowing my head and just being quiet. I didn’t offend anyone by having to explain why I wasn’t mumbling out those words– those word I know by heart, forward and backwards, because I was raised in the church. The rebellion really wasn’t something I was wanting to “demonstrate” to anyone but myself.

This rebellion was obvious to me. I wasn’t conscious of it, really, because I wasn’t aware of myself thinking that I was being rebellious or trying to make a point– even if I was the only person able to observe “my point.” However, it was terribly obvious when I asked myself if I would be making such a stink if the common table prayer was to someone I wasn’t raised to pray to– say Buddha or some other child of God. I knew, I wouldn’t. Ultimately, what it comes down to, is that I was holding my upbringing against Jesus.

I feel like maybe I’m growing up some, or perhaps my values are once again changing as I get older. As it turns out, I realize I can’t rightfully hold all of my grudges against one smart Dude because I feel a certain way about the things that I was expected to do as a child.

Similarly, I respect the value of blessing my food before I eat. I appreciate the value of expressing gratitude– because thankfulness is the precursor to joy, and there is a great possibility that the energy I put into my nourishment can be that much better for me. I respect that there is a prayer that many people in my life say, and they say it to “someone” whom they think very highly of– someone I also think very highly of. And in saying the table prayer myself, I am not eluding others into believing I’m something that I’m not.

With these things said, I have come to terms with saying a prayer before dinner. I’m not going to weenie out like I’ve done so many times in my past. After all, I am thankful for my food, and I have no problem with inviting “Jesus” into my home and up to my dinner table. After all, he doesn’t eat much. And if this is something that our family can bond over, something that puts good energy into the home right before a meal, then I’m down for it.

4 Comments »

1. 

   Great Blog. Very well-written and well thought out. Its funny how things that happen to us or are chosen for us when we are young make us rebel aganist that “thing” rather than our parents or people who introduced us to that sort of tradition. When I was in college, I rallied aganist being Lutheran. Thought it was a cold, formulaic denomination. But it had nothing to do with the Lutheran Church or Lutheran Theology (which is really what sets Lutherans apart). It had to do with being bored at a boring church when I was a kid. Now..(God certainly has a sense of humor, no?) I’m married to a Lutheran Pastor, I have - if I do say so myself- smart theology, and I LOVE our church and find a certain peace and comfort in the rhythm of the liturgy. The realization of where we put our blame as adults can change a lot of things in a lot of different ways.

   Comment by Colleen — January 13, 2008 @ 10:24 pm

2. 

   Isn’t growing up a funny thing? You begin to realize that you never really know what or who you’ll be in the future…

   Comment by POHA — January 14, 2008 @ 10:05 am

3. 

   Oh Ash… it’s just a shame…

   Comment by Ryan Snelling — February 7, 2008 @ 9:47 pm

4. 

   Nice website!!

   Comment by baby — June 16, 2008 @ 11:44 pm

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