Good Food God Food

What if it’s true that we are what we eat? I remember once around 8 years ago I was rushing to get back to work on my lunch break,  which I’d already spent the majority of in a bank queue. The only thing edible between bank and office was produced by Pie City. But as I sped up the street, trying to coordinate pulling back the paper, chewing, and running, with minimal greasy pastry flake-white shirt contact,  I remember very clearly thinking, this doesn’t seem right.

We want to be people who live in community, who stand for justice, who celebrate the goodness of life, but when it comes to the way we eat, and what we eat, those values are so easily gobbled up by the ‘need’ to have things here, now, and as quickly and cheaply as possible. So I for one am excited and intrigued by the idea of a ‘theology of food’, which is exactly what Liesl Stewart is attempting to think out, and live by.

For Liesl, it’s a question of authentic, whole-life, Jesus living. She’s on a journey to discover what that looks like on the dinner table, and the starting point is simple: “when my family sits down to eat, I would like to know what’s on my plate and in my cup”. As stewards of this beautiful but fragile planet, is our food grown or reared with a holy regard for creation? In the beginning God declared everything good; from every clump of soil to the mighty mountains; from the animals of the sea and the sky and the land to each one of us humans. So does the manner in which our food is produced truly reflect and respect that declaration? Are all workers involved fairly treated, and properly paid? Is what i’m eating fresh and good and real, or is it a concoction of chemicals, laced with the residue of pesticides, frozen and defrosted several times over on its way to my kitchen with a huge carbon footprint to boot?

Is what I’m eating good for the world, good for the farmer, and good for me? Or is it simply good for the bank account of some faceless corporation? If I am what I eat, then what does what I eat say about who I am, and what I worship, and what I love?

To some, this can all seem like the frivolous day dream of people with an apparent aversion to footwear and shampoo, but with seemingly endless funds for disposal in the organic section of Woolworths. And Liesl is the first to admit there are problems with attempting to do things this way. If a tomato is certified organic, but was produced in some far away land, would it be better to buy non-organic but locally-sourced? Do we better protect the environment by reducing carbon emissions or by minimising the damaging effects of non-organic farming methods? And even if the environment was well-treated in the growing and transporting process, is the woman who picked the thing earning enough to take care of her kids? Or when my meat says it’s free range, how free is that exactly? Did the animal actually live well, or did the farmer merely meet the minimum legal requirements to get the certification?

We want to know what’s on our plates and in our cups, but once you start trying to navigate all these markings and labels and price tags, that microwave lasagne looks kinda tempting. Ooh, and it’s on special.

If we could bypass some of the technical jargon and marketing trickery, if we could be in contact with the people out there in the fields, working their magic…but the market right now is ruled by the supermarkets, and a farmer with a family to feed needs the big orders to survive. Yet, in this system we have, research shows that those who benefit least are the farmers and the consumers. According to Liesl, it is exactly by stepping in at this point of injustice that we can bring change: “We’re trying to close the gap and buy food from as close to the source as possible. I don’t believe good, ethically-produced food has to be a budget-breaker. But I do believe it’s mainly possible through sharing information,and banding together to get more bang for our buck.” Now that’s food for thought.