By: Annie
I’ve been thinking a lot about food as a form of privilege. Introvert that I am, this area of self-reflection has been brewing for a while as food culture grew and our community was talking more about our first-world privilege. Guilt became a constant companion as I questioned how much time I spent thinking and talking about food, or going out to eat, or not eating seasonally and nutritiously, or how to reconcile with the notion that baking – as a hobby – was a form of privilege.
It became my goal to figure out how to use food as a “force for good,” rationalizing the various forms of my food consumption with “good” intentions. That was missing the point though. Bake-sale fundraisers didn’t change my stress-eating habits. It’s great to fellowship over food and support independent restaurants, but is that just an excuse to go to the newest restaurant everyone’s talking about? And with every photo I post on Instagram, I question whether I’m perpetuating an unhealthy obsession with food.
A discussion reminded me that one way to frame my relationship with food is through reconciliation. So I’ve been exploring how food plays into God’s reconciliation story whether it’s people-to-people, people-to-creation, or people-to-God. One small step I took was having picnics. It was a way to encourage my friends and I to make our meals (#slowfood), or purchase from farmers markets (#shoplocal), and have our time of fellowship be at the centre of our gatherings. It was still an indulgence, but we ate more seasonally, more plants, and without a plate to clean, we ate enough. It was good to slow down and take the time to eat more intentionally and thoughtfully.