Browsing the archives for the Eastern Washington tag

Feasting, Cherry Pickers and Connection

Robert V. Taylor

Who we are, is reflected in how we feast and approach food.   It mirrors our spirit and how we engage with life.  The sights and sounds of cherry pickers harvesting this year’s crop have expanded my awareness about this.  The cherry pickers have invited me to new delight about the oneness that a spirituality of feasting invites.

The cherry orchards of Eastern Washington are a lively ecosystem during harvest.  Workers on ladders reach in to the trees to fill their buckets with the prized fruit.  Portable toilets are moved to follow the pickers.  Roads are commandeered by refrigeration trucks hauling fresh fruit to warehouses and markets.   Mobile taco stands roam the orchards selling enchiladas and burritos to workers on break.  Local grocery stores and bodegas bustle with business from seasonal workers.

The sounds of the pickers at work are what captivate me this harvest.  I hear their chatter from ladder to ladder in surrounding orchards. Grueling work in often scorching heat does not dampen the animated talk rising above the sounds of music from a portable radio.  Laughter from the orchards punctuates the day. By two o’clock in the afternoon the nine hour day ends before the sun parches the workers, creating more nuanced conversations about which orchards will be picked at five the next morning.

The rhythm of the harvest reflects a micro-ecosystem about food.  The sounds of the cherry pickers have awakened a new awareness into this more expansive ecology.  At the Safeway, Whole Foods or farmers markets in Seattle my surveying of the produce is different. My urban experience of the produce aisle is seen through new lenses.

My spiritual practices about food have begun to shift perceptibly. In preparing any meal I practice giving thanks for the earth, for farmers, for those who’ve brought the food to market and for those who will eat together. It’s less perfunctory than a quick blessing of a meal. It invites mindfulness of being a grateful participant in a wide circle of food.  Harvest has given me new attentiveness.

Cherry harvest conversations among farmers and their team evolve as if in their own growing season. Unexpected summer rainfall created anxious talk about crop damage.  Would the crop be salvageable enough to warrant hiring workers to pick?  Would the crop be left on the trees to rot?  How much are warehouses paying per pound and how much are they discounting for cherries deemed unfit to grace a produce aisle.  All this has given way to grateful, satisfied conversations about a good crop making its way to people’s homes.

A spirituality of feasting always includes expectancy about the conversations that will emerge. In preparing a feast for those beyond our household I think about each guest as I chop, sauté and prepare.  I adore this practice which creates a heart open to the surprise of feasting and talking together.  Cherry harvest has opened a new window into this practice. 

The conversation and worries of the farmers, the image of pickers on ladders with their buckets, the aroma from the taco trucks, the music and conversation from the orchards, the laughter punctuating the air gives me new awareness.  The spirituality of food and feasting is suddenly richer.

The laughter, surprises, conversation and connection around my table remains a gift.  But now it is joined to the rhythm of life of those in orchards and fields producing the many ingredients that contribute to the food.  The liveliness around my table becomes joined to that of people who will remain unknown.  The aisles of the supermarket and even the stands at the farmers market are no longer solely about the item sought.  The produce reminds me of an ecology of connection of which I am a part.  I have an expanded awareness of inter-dependence, of oneness with a circle of people and the earth itself.

The way we approach food and feasting reveals much about our spirit. It reveals even more about mindful gratitude for the oneness of our inter-connection. Food and feasting reveal even more delight and generosity than I had ever imagined.

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Click here to watch Robert’s YouTube conversation – A Spirituality of Food and Feasting.  Or watch it on Robert’s website by clicking here

Combine the beauty of Alaska with food for your spirit and daily life – Join Robert’s cruise this September – click here to learn more.  Space is limited!

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Harvey Milk & God Terrified Me

Harvey Milk and God each terrified me.  In that order.  I was a young white anti-apartheid activist in South Africa in the nineteen-seventies.  To be openly gay filled me with more fear than the fight against apartheid.  Yet I knew in my bones that Harvey Milk and anti-apartheid activists were pointing to the same truth about the magnificence of each person.

As a young man I rejected the theological and political notion that apartheid was divinely sanctioned.  It was inconceivable to me that humanity could be denied to another person based on race.  Yet that was the moral and religious justification claimed for a system based on the superiority of whites in South Africa.

My activism was strengthened by the courage of religious leaders like Desmond Tutu. They insisted that God loves every single person.  Equality, justice and human rights were expressions of that love.  As a young man I was certain that our differences were less significant than the oneness of our humanity. Except when it applied to me.  

Learning about Harvey Milk’s election to the San Francisco Board of Supervisors in 1977 was shocking news. It seemed impossible to conceive of an openly gay elected official in South Africa where legislation gave impunity to the police to act against LGBT people.

I was a candidate for ordination to the Anglican priesthood in South Africa in the nineteen seventies.   I’d witnessed the witch hunt conducted by the church against gay seminarians.  I used to go to Mass each day to get on my knees to plead for God to change me; to take away my sexual orientation. 

Following Harvey Milk’s assassination in 1978 I experienced an epiphany.  If God had no use for hatred and exclusion based on race, surely the same was true about sexual orientation.  The truth of this filled me with terror.  Was Harvey Milk’s courage an invitation for all LGBT people everywhere to stop pleading to be changed?

The possibility of Harvey Milk and God offering an invitation to get up off our knees was an exhilarating truth.  It would take me years to live fully into that liberating notion of becoming fully human.  In the process I discovered that the root word for courage is the same word for love.  Maybe Tutu was correct that the Holy loved all people without condition. I imagined God smiling on Milk’s courage.

Archbishop Desmond Tutu, Mpho Tutu & Robert V. Taylor

Fifteen years later I asked Desmond Tutu when he would add LGBT people into his compelling vision that we are all “made for oneness.” He assured me that it would be after the fall of apartheid.  This iconic leader has been true to his word.  To the ire of many and the delight of others, Tutu is insistent that there are no outsiders with God or the human family. 

The shadow side of Milk’s invitation to courage was violence.  To be physically harmed or killed because of who you are is not something that most people seek.  My experience of threats directed against me over the years because of my openness as a gay man remind me that we have a long way to go in the United States before LGBT people know that we are viewed as outsiders.

But Harvey Milk’s life continues to have a ripple effect.  The young videographer who recently filmed me for a Seattle Men’s Chorus video unexpectedly told me that I’d been a hero of his.  I could not imagine why.  He said that as a high school student my prominence as an openly gay leader had given him courage in grappling with his own sexuality.  It was a simple moment.  In every encounter like that one I give thanks for the courage of people like Harvey Milk.  A young millennial man took for granted his ability to be open about his identity.  It seemed like reason enough to celebrate!

In the rural farming community of Eastern Washington where my partner and I spend time, we know that the politics is not as progressive as it is in cities like Seattle or New York.  But we hear the stories of families who accept, love and include their LGBT members.  For these families it is not a struggle, but a given.  I imagine Harvey Milk and God smiling on such inclusion.

The terror that Harvey Milk and God instilled in me have long dissipated.    Terror has made way for courage.  My own experience of exclusion is a reminder that it is dangerous to dismiss or exclude any person or group of people.  Harvey Milk’s courage is an invitation to celebrate oneness with our own self and others.

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Join Robert’s YouTube conversation about the Holy who includes and delights in each person – Exclusion in the Name of God – by clicking here

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