Psalm 8
October
3, 2021
The word mindfulness seems to
be in the air these days. With so much of the world shutting down last year,
and with our lives slowing down drastically, the word mindful took on
new meaning. For some, the pandemic was the universe telling us here and all
around the world that we needed to slow down, reevaluate how we were living,
and become more mindful.
One of the first things that I think
about when I hear the word mindful is about eating. If the universe is
trying to tell us to slow down, then mindful eating is one response to that.
How many of us eat our food too quickly? How many of us wander through the
kitchen, snacking and grazing on whatever we find? How many of us eat
mindlessly more often than we’d like to admit? I certainly do, and when I fall
into mindless eating, I don’t enjoy or even taste the food that I’m taking in,
much less consider how many calories I’m ingesting.
So, mindful eating, just like
mindful living, is about slowing down. It is about being intentional about what
you are eating, where you are eating, and how you are eating. Here is what I
understand about mindful eating. You sit down to eat. You eat at a designated
place for eating, like the table, and not standing up or in front of the
television. You consider what food you’re eating, what is the most healthful
and helpful to your body, mind, and yes, even soul. Mindful eating means being
aware of your body’s hunger cues and knowing when you have had enough food, and
not eating past the point of being full.
Mindful
eating is about enjoying your food. Slowing down and tasting it, savoring it. Eating
mindfully begins before you even take a bite. Mindful eating means looking at
the food on your plate, appreciating its color and presentation. There’s an
expression that says, “we eat with our eyes first,” so being mindful when you
eat means enjoying the look of your food too. When I’ve made a meal that is
colorful and healthy and plated well, it just looks better than the bright
artificial orange of Cheetos. Not that Cheetos aren’t sometimes the orange bits
of joy that I crave, but you know what I mean.
Mindful
eating is about enjoying your food and paying attention to your food. It
encourages a better, healthier, saner relationship with food. Eating mindfully
is good for our health and it is also good for our spirit. Mindful eating is a
spiritual practice as well.
Giving
thanks for the food itself, and for the farmers who grew it, the people at the
grocery store who stocked it, the hands that prepared it, and for our God who
makes it all possible to begin with is not only reserved for the blessing at
the beginning of the meal.
The
spiritual practice of mindful eating is about giving thanks with each bite for
the food and our Creator who provides for us in so many ways and through so
many people. When we can slow down and be grateful for our food and for the
people involved in getting that food to the table, it reminds us to be grateful
for more than just the meal that is set before us.
In our psalm today, the psalmist
speaks of God’s mindfulness. One commentator talked about verse 4 as being the
ultimate question.
“What are human beings that you are
mindful of them, mortals that you care for them?”
But let’s back up a second. The
psalm begins with a classic ascription to God.
“O Lord, our Sovereign, how majestic
is your name in all the earth!”
You, majestic Lord, have “set your
glory above the heavens.” Look at this expansive and wondrous universe that you
have created, O Lord. Look at the heavens, look at the stars. Look at the moon,
look at everything in creation. All of it bears your fingerprints. The mark of
your hand is upon all creation. And that creation includes humans?
While the translation reads this in
the plural, this is really an intimate conversation between God and one person.
“What are human beings that you are
mindful of me, mortals that you care for me?”
How is it God, when you have created
the universe, the heavens, the stars, the moon, all that I can see and touch,
all that I can see and only long to touch, that you took the time and care to
create me as well? You could have stopped with the heavens, O God, and your
glory would be evident. You could have stopped with the mountains and the seas,
and your creation would have been complete. But you made me. You, who created
the big things, also created me, so small in comparison, so seemingly
insignificant. But you are mindful of me, O God. You consider me. You take time
to look at me and love me and desire good things for me.
You made us humans a little lower
than you. You made us to be in relationship with you and to care for this
glorious creation you have given us, this creation that we are part and parcel
of. Are we as mindful in response? Have we treated your creation with care? Do
we love others, are we mindful of others, as you are mindful of us?
Have we harmed all that you have given
us? Have we taken your commands seriously or have we used them for our own
purposes? Have we forgotten what it means to be stewards – of the earth, of its
creatures, of one another?
Why are you mindful of us, O God?
Why do you stop to consider us, to love us?
“O Lord, our Sovereign, how majestic
is your name in all the earth!”
According to the psalmist, God is
mindful of us. According to the gospel, God is mindful of us. According to all
the scriptures, God is mindful of us. And if God’s mindfulness is, in some
small way, a little like the mindfulness we are considering giving our food,
does that mean that God takes the time to think about us, care for us, and love
us?
I know that our human understanding
of things never meets God’s understanding, but I think the answer the psalmist
gives that question is a resounding “Yes!” And while it feels incredibly good
and wonderful to know that God is mindful of us, that God takes the time to
love each one of us, I don’t think that basking in the glow of God’s love is
where we are called to remain. It seems to me that realizing that God is
mindful of us, trusting that God is mindful of us, and loves us, is just the
beginning. God’s mindfulness calls for a response.
How are we mindful, not only of our
food, but of the heavens and earth God created; the ground on which we walk,
and the air in which we breathe? How are we mindful of the creatures in God’s
creation? How do we love the land, and the animals, and the world God gave us?
And how are we mindful of one another? Do we stop and give God’s creation the
thoughtfulness and love that God shows us? Do we show that concern and
compassion to other people, not only the people that we know and love but also
the people that we don’t?
In a few minutes we will come to the
table and partake of the Lord’s Supper. We will hear the ancient words of
institution and open our hearts in the prayer of thanksgiving, and together we
will eat the bread and drink the cup. As Presbyterians we don’t believe that
the bread and the juice actually become the body and blood of Christ, but we do
believe that Jesus is spiritually present at this meal, at this table. So, as
we celebrate this Lord’s Supper, let’s take a moment to be mindful. As we eat
the bread, think about where it came from, who made it, who prepared it, and
give thanks for all of those people. And as we drink the cup, let’s do the
same. And in all of this may we be mindful of God who is mindful of us. May we
be mindful of what this table represents, of the memories it invokes. May we be
mindful of what God did for our sake, of what God the Son prepared for when he
sat at this table with his disciples. May we be mindful of God’s care, God’s
compassion, God’s love that was made manifest in Jesus the Christ, in his
sacrificial death, and in his resurrection. May we be mindful of God, in this
time of worship, at this table, and always, because God is always mindful of
us. And may we, like the psalmist, declare with joy and thanksgiving,
“O Lord, our Sovereign, how majestic
is your name in all the earth!”
Let all the children of our mindful God
say, “Alleluia.”
Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment