Fragrant steam rising ;
Nourishment and sustenance —
The flavor of love.
The very first meal prepared in the very first home Darrell and I shared after our wedding was “Chicken Broccoli Rice Soup for Two,” a recipe I followed verbatim from a cookbook now long gone. Over the years, the recipe evolved into “Chicken Broccoli Rice Soup for Three,” and “Chicken Broccoli Rice Soup for Four,” and eventually, it came to be known as “Chicken Broccoli Rice Soup Made in the Big Pot.” Just last evening, a batch simmered indoors on the stove while outdoors we cleared away yet another layer of winter precipitation before it hardened into passage-blocking icebergs. When we came back inside, the scent met us at the door. After a round of shoveling, a bowl of our family favorite offered restorative powers.
Soup is like that—warm and comforting and curative. It’s adaptable and expandable and accommodating. Just add in a few potatoes and a bit more broth.
Soup is a sacrament, almost, sometimes.
In a Covid-free world, the season of Lent would be ushered in not only with recognizable rituals like the imposition of ashes or the experience of Holy Communion, but also with the homey ladling of chowder or chili served up with good hunks of bread during Wednesday evening bouts of table fellowship. In church basements and halls across the land, there would likely be prayer services or study groups, but probably the most authentically significant rite would be the sharing and slurping of soup together. As we circle back to our second disrupted Lenten cycle in the Pandemic Era, we lament not being able to participate in the familiar practices that nourish our faith lives.
What to do? Perhaps there is significance to be found in the intentional act of making a pot of soup, not just for the sake of dinner, but for the sake of spiritual expression. Beginning from scratch or from the bounty of a can pulled from the pantry shelf, what might it be like to assemble the ingredients deliberately, heat the mix slowly, and stir it purposefully? What might it be like to be prayerful while it simmers gently, its aroma increasing and lifting heavenward in curls of steam? What might it be like to breathe in this incense, and to let it linger while fixating on this thought:
Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. ~Matthew 6: 33 (The Message)
This is the heart of the Lenten discipline, to meld the flavors of faith by being steeped in Christ’s presence. As a slow simmer allows a soup’s savor to develop, what richness might come from a person of faith simmering in this very verse for a while? What might the Easter results be for someone who is seasoned throughout the season of Lent? How might such a recipe evolve?
Stirring Constantly,
Pastor Chris
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