(no subject)
I just wanted to mention that I love, love, love baking. I love it. I could do it all day long, I think.
I don't know what it is. I just finished re-reading Gaudium et Spes, and it speaks a lot about culture. Culture, it says, flows from the principle that human beings were given the earth in order to help it flourish and to use it to help themselves flourish, and then to offer it, and themselves, to God. The Eucharist is the perfect example of this: it is "fruit of the earth" which we have "cultured" by the "work of human hands" and which we then offer back to God, and because we have put our labor into it, we then offer ourselves. And if, as Aidan Kavanaugh says, the liturgy is "doing the world the way the world is meant to be done," then if we cultivate the earth to produce the bread which we offer to God to transform for us, we should do that always and everywhere - cultivate what nature gives us and offer it to God.
And this, Gaudium et Spes says, is where labor derives its worth. When we "cultivate" the earth and the gifts it gives us - as farmers like Abel in the most primitive sense, as artisans and craftsmen like Christ Himself, as thinkers who observe the world and determine its workings, as workers, as writers, as artists, as scientists - we imprint ourselves on our work, and when we offer that work to God we offer ourselves to Him as well. To labor, therefore, is not at all to take ourselves away from God - it is, rather, the manner by which we fulfill God's command to cultivate nature and to cultivate themselves, and the manner by which we offer ourselves to Him most fully.
How does this connect to baking? Anyone who's seen "Babette's Feast" would know. To take ingredients, to take "fruits of the earth," uncultivated products like flour, eggs, vanilla, sugar - and to "cultivate" them with your hands, and then to give them to your companions - those who share bread with you, which is the fundamental meaning of the word "companion" - what could be more fulfilling? It's no mistake that the Eucharist is made of bread, a food, and, what's more, a baked food. For in sharing food we fulfill yet another command of God: to become one. To cultivate the earth, to turn it into nourishment for others, to share food with others, and, strengthened and united by this sharing of food, to go back into the world to serve God and cultivate His gifts: that's the essence of the Christian life.
It may sound silly to theologize about baking and cooking, but I don't think it's off the mark. Gaudium et Spes teaches that every human labor, even the most menial, can be an act of worshipping God, if through our labor we strive to serve Him and offer ourselves to Him. Christ didn't think it too menial to be an artisan, a craftsman. And if He, the Son of God, could find joy and fulfillment in serving God and man as a laborer, then I suppose it's not too crazy to find joy and fulfillment by baking for my friends.
I don't know what it is. I just finished re-reading Gaudium et Spes, and it speaks a lot about culture. Culture, it says, flows from the principle that human beings were given the earth in order to help it flourish and to use it to help themselves flourish, and then to offer it, and themselves, to God. The Eucharist is the perfect example of this: it is "fruit of the earth" which we have "cultured" by the "work of human hands" and which we then offer back to God, and because we have put our labor into it, we then offer ourselves. And if, as Aidan Kavanaugh says, the liturgy is "doing the world the way the world is meant to be done," then if we cultivate the earth to produce the bread which we offer to God to transform for us, we should do that always and everywhere - cultivate what nature gives us and offer it to God.
And this, Gaudium et Spes says, is where labor derives its worth. When we "cultivate" the earth and the gifts it gives us - as farmers like Abel in the most primitive sense, as artisans and craftsmen like Christ Himself, as thinkers who observe the world and determine its workings, as workers, as writers, as artists, as scientists - we imprint ourselves on our work, and when we offer that work to God we offer ourselves to Him as well. To labor, therefore, is not at all to take ourselves away from God - it is, rather, the manner by which we fulfill God's command to cultivate nature and to cultivate themselves, and the manner by which we offer ourselves to Him most fully.
How does this connect to baking? Anyone who's seen "Babette's Feast" would know. To take ingredients, to take "fruits of the earth," uncultivated products like flour, eggs, vanilla, sugar - and to "cultivate" them with your hands, and then to give them to your companions - those who share bread with you, which is the fundamental meaning of the word "companion" - what could be more fulfilling? It's no mistake that the Eucharist is made of bread, a food, and, what's more, a baked food. For in sharing food we fulfill yet another command of God: to become one. To cultivate the earth, to turn it into nourishment for others, to share food with others, and, strengthened and united by this sharing of food, to go back into the world to serve God and cultivate His gifts: that's the essence of the Christian life.
It may sound silly to theologize about baking and cooking, but I don't think it's off the mark. Gaudium et Spes teaches that every human labor, even the most menial, can be an act of worshipping God, if through our labor we strive to serve Him and offer ourselves to Him. Christ didn't think it too menial to be an artisan, a craftsman. And if He, the Son of God, could find joy and fulfillment in serving God and man as a laborer, then I suppose it's not too crazy to find joy and fulfillment by baking for my friends.