Grieving and eating
01/12/15 05:19
When I work with those who are grieving, especially those who have experienced a sudden and traumatic loss, I spend a few minutes speaking with them about self care. I acknowledge that all of their routines are temporarily suspended that it is normal for their appetite to be suppressed and sleep cycles to be disrupted. I give them gentle advice about making sure to drink enough water and take care of their basic physical needs. When there are other family members, friends, or other supporters, I speak to them about providing care in the form of paying attention to eating and drinking to maintain health.
My advice may be a bit of an over reaction. People, in general, are pretty good about taking care of each other. Moreover, people respond to grief by making gifts of food. When we have experienced losses in our family, friends and neighbors show up with food for our household.
I’ve been thinking about food and occasions of grief the past couple of days because we were attending the funeral of a colleague and friend. Now that my hair is white, I am often considered an elder in a community gathering. In the traditions of the community where we were visiting, elders are served first and while some members of the community are asked to go through a serving line, our plates were brought to us, heaped with food.
The evening service began at 7 pm and lasted about an hour and a half. It was getting close to 9 pm when we went to the fellowship hall for what we thought might be a snack and beverages. The tray that was set before me contained a large portion of ham, another large portion of turkey, several salads, both fruit and vegetables, baked beans, and fry bread. Just to make sure we wouldn’t go hungry, there was also a large bowl of hearty beef and vegetable stew and a sandwich in a bag to take home with us. A gift of food is not to be taken lightly and refusing such a gift might hurt feelings. I did my best, but was unable to eat all of the food that was set before me. Fortunately, I was able to escape the cakes, cookies and pies that filled the dessert table.
As I lay on my bed that night, I was well aware that I had just consumed a meal that was considerably larger than the Thanksgiving feast I had attended earlier in the week, where I was able to select my own portion size from the abundant offerings. I was also aware that it had been a mistake to eat three normal meals before attending the memorial service.
Yesterday’s funeral was followed by another feast. We were served another heaping tray with roast beef, mashed potatoes, gravy, salads and lots of other goodies. The stew was offered once again, though I managed to avoid being served soup. There were sheet cakes and lots of desserts, which also could be avoided. This time, however, I was slightly better prepared having skipped breakfast and heading home where i could eat a modest supper before retiring.
It seems as if I consumed a week’s worth of calories in two meals on two days.
I attend such funerals infrequently enough that I could develop some kind of an eating and training regimen to keep from over eating if I work at it, but it made me wonder. The man whose funeral we were attending had a ministry that was focused on the crises that occur in people’s lives. He frequently officiated at multiple funerals in the same week. He lived in the midst of that community where extravagant feasts are a regular part of funeral traditions. Yet he was never overweight. He maintained a healthy and lean body throughout his career.
I have commented to family and friends that ours is a “porcine profession.” I have struggled with my weight and spent many years of my life carrying extra pounds and have struggled to maintain a healthy diet. When I attend meetings of ministers, however, I am aware that most of my colleagues are considerably broader than I. A group of ministers traveling tourist on the airlines could cause a lot of discomfort for other passengers. The chairs in the chancel of our church are very large, and I guess for good purpose. A group photo of me with my colleagues requires either a very large room or a wide angle lens for the camera. You get the picture.
We clergy aren’t know for developing healthy eating habits or for taking care of our diet and exercise to maximize our energy and effectiveness.
It is likely that the counsel I offer to grieving families could best be applied to myself. Rather than reminding people to eat, perhaps I should be more careful reminding myself to make wise choices.
Historic religious practices sought to balance feasting with fasting. Times of celebration were to be set off with periods of careful abstention from eating. Advent is a season of fasting. Food isn’t the focus of the season, and the role of fasting has been downplayed in the traditional church, but we are clearly invited to focus our attention in other places than simply consuming calories.
I don’t find an over emphasis on self care to be the focus of my calling. I am called to serve others and to give my attention to the needs and circumstances of others. Paying too much attention to myself makes me uncomfortable and leaves me wondering if I have used my time and energy wisely. On the other hand, good health can boost endurance and increase the capacity to work and to serve others. A modest amount of self care is in the best interests of the overall ministry. Paying attention to my food consumption is an exercise in wise stewardship. With only one life to live, I am called to make wise decisions about how that life is lived.
I won’t be avoiding funerals. Nor will I avoid funeral dinners. But I do need to pay careful attention to my overall health and eating patterns. After all I don’t want to become one of those people who makes others cringe when they see me coming down the aisle in an airliner.
My advice may be a bit of an over reaction. People, in general, are pretty good about taking care of each other. Moreover, people respond to grief by making gifts of food. When we have experienced losses in our family, friends and neighbors show up with food for our household.
I’ve been thinking about food and occasions of grief the past couple of days because we were attending the funeral of a colleague and friend. Now that my hair is white, I am often considered an elder in a community gathering. In the traditions of the community where we were visiting, elders are served first and while some members of the community are asked to go through a serving line, our plates were brought to us, heaped with food.
The evening service began at 7 pm and lasted about an hour and a half. It was getting close to 9 pm when we went to the fellowship hall for what we thought might be a snack and beverages. The tray that was set before me contained a large portion of ham, another large portion of turkey, several salads, both fruit and vegetables, baked beans, and fry bread. Just to make sure we wouldn’t go hungry, there was also a large bowl of hearty beef and vegetable stew and a sandwich in a bag to take home with us. A gift of food is not to be taken lightly and refusing such a gift might hurt feelings. I did my best, but was unable to eat all of the food that was set before me. Fortunately, I was able to escape the cakes, cookies and pies that filled the dessert table.
As I lay on my bed that night, I was well aware that I had just consumed a meal that was considerably larger than the Thanksgiving feast I had attended earlier in the week, where I was able to select my own portion size from the abundant offerings. I was also aware that it had been a mistake to eat three normal meals before attending the memorial service.
Yesterday’s funeral was followed by another feast. We were served another heaping tray with roast beef, mashed potatoes, gravy, salads and lots of other goodies. The stew was offered once again, though I managed to avoid being served soup. There were sheet cakes and lots of desserts, which also could be avoided. This time, however, I was slightly better prepared having skipped breakfast and heading home where i could eat a modest supper before retiring.
It seems as if I consumed a week’s worth of calories in two meals on two days.
I attend such funerals infrequently enough that I could develop some kind of an eating and training regimen to keep from over eating if I work at it, but it made me wonder. The man whose funeral we were attending had a ministry that was focused on the crises that occur in people’s lives. He frequently officiated at multiple funerals in the same week. He lived in the midst of that community where extravagant feasts are a regular part of funeral traditions. Yet he was never overweight. He maintained a healthy and lean body throughout his career.
I have commented to family and friends that ours is a “porcine profession.” I have struggled with my weight and spent many years of my life carrying extra pounds and have struggled to maintain a healthy diet. When I attend meetings of ministers, however, I am aware that most of my colleagues are considerably broader than I. A group of ministers traveling tourist on the airlines could cause a lot of discomfort for other passengers. The chairs in the chancel of our church are very large, and I guess for good purpose. A group photo of me with my colleagues requires either a very large room or a wide angle lens for the camera. You get the picture.
We clergy aren’t know for developing healthy eating habits or for taking care of our diet and exercise to maximize our energy and effectiveness.
It is likely that the counsel I offer to grieving families could best be applied to myself. Rather than reminding people to eat, perhaps I should be more careful reminding myself to make wise choices.
Historic religious practices sought to balance feasting with fasting. Times of celebration were to be set off with periods of careful abstention from eating. Advent is a season of fasting. Food isn’t the focus of the season, and the role of fasting has been downplayed in the traditional church, but we are clearly invited to focus our attention in other places than simply consuming calories.
I don’t find an over emphasis on self care to be the focus of my calling. I am called to serve others and to give my attention to the needs and circumstances of others. Paying too much attention to myself makes me uncomfortable and leaves me wondering if I have used my time and energy wisely. On the other hand, good health can boost endurance and increase the capacity to work and to serve others. A modest amount of self care is in the best interests of the overall ministry. Paying attention to my food consumption is an exercise in wise stewardship. With only one life to live, I am called to make wise decisions about how that life is lived.
I won’t be avoiding funerals. Nor will I avoid funeral dinners. But I do need to pay careful attention to my overall health and eating patterns. After all I don’t want to become one of those people who makes others cringe when they see me coming down the aisle in an airliner.