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Acts 11:1-18
Now the apostles and the believers who were in Judea heard that the Gentiles had also accepted the word of God. So when
Peter went up to Jerusalem, the circumcised believers criticized him, saying, "Why did you go to uncircumcised men and
eat with them?" Then Peter began to explain it to them, step by step, saying, "I was in the city of Joppa praying,
and in a trance I saw a vision. There was something like a large sheet coming down from heaven, being lowered by its four
corners; and it came close to me. As I looked at it closely I saw four-footed animals, beasts of prey, reptiles, and birds
of the air. I also heard a voice saying to me, `Get up, Peter; kill and eat.' But I replied, `By no means, Lord; for nothing
profane or unclean has ever entered my mouth.' But a second time the voice answered from heaven, `What God has made clean,
you must not call profane.' This happened three times; then everything was pulled up again to heaven. At that very moment
three men, sent to me from Caesarea, arrived at the house where we were. The Spirit told me to go with them and not to make
a distinction between them and us. These six brothers also accompanied me, and we entered the man's house. He told us how
he had seen the angel standing in his house and saying, `Send to Joppa and bring Simon, who is called Peter; he will give
you a message by which you and your entire household will be saved.' And as I began to speak, the Holy Spirit fell upon them
just as it had upon us at the beginning. And I remembered the word of the Lord, how he had said, `John baptized with water,
but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit.' If then God gave them the same gift that he gave us when we believed in the
Lord Jesus Christ, who was I that I could hinder God?" When they heard this, they were silenced. And they praised God,
saying, "Then God has given even to the Gentiles the repentance that leads to life."
Folks from southern Appalachia are a particular breed of Southerner. I ought to know; I’m one of them. For hundreds
of years the hills and mountains have enfolded its residents, forcing them to fend for themselves because for a long time
there was way easy way to get to nearby towns when something broke down or wore out. As a result, we have often been rather
distrustful of outsiders and the unknown.
By the time I was a child, highways and TVs were making a difference, but our sense of who we were as independent people did
not die easily. When we ventured away from our home, we often kept to ourselves. For example, when we went on vacation we
took everything with us just in case. You have to remember that when I was young the South was known for home cooking, not
restaurants, when I was a child, so mom made certain that we would not go hungry. The car trunk was filled with bread and
knives and coolers, and the three absolutely essential items: Crisco, cornmeal, and a good iron skillet so that we could fry
anything in any kitchenette-appointed motel room in which we might find ourselves. There was also the ubiquitous East Tennessee
ham covered in aluminum foil that served as our lunch on the roadside, our supper in the motel room, and our breakfast the
next morning. We would have thought it laughable had anyone talked about taking a culinary tour, for we had everything we
needed, and if the truth be known, we were a bit wary of anyone else’s cooking.
Looking back, that was the tragedy of it all. We tasted only food with which we were already familiar. Several years ago the
late Bill Neal wrote a book called Southern Cooking in which he laid out rather systematically the huge variety of Southern
foods, of which the mountain cooking of Appalachia was only one small part. There are Low Country purloos, Brunswick stews,
and unbelievable soul food, to name but a few of the choices, but little of it did we ever taste even though we drove through
so many Southern states. Feasts were missed; new friends never made. We only got what we were used to eating, and we were
enslaved to all that stuff we had to pack and repack every day. We missed the vacation, missed the chance to experience life
in a new way, missed the recreation, the re-creation, that is so much a party of the journey, because we were consumed with
what we had held on to.
What a way to live! Going to south Florida to the beach with a car full of our own food weighing us down just in case we could
not find enough of our own kind somewhere! Missing oysters and red snappers and stone crabs and key lime pies, living in fear
of the unknown.
Such fear is strong among us humans. It is likely that most of you don’t take your own food with you on vacation; that
is a thing of the past. But there is a reason why every fast food restaurant in a chain looks the same when we go in them
and why we line up at them at lunch time and why we know before we go what is on the menu; they are so predictable. We know
exactly what to expect once we go inside. Going to an unknown restaurant is scary. It might be costly. Our fears of anything
different can enslave us.
It is a response to this sort of fear that is behind today’s lesson from Acts, and the image of food is used there as
well. The very early church had consisted of folks in the Jewish tradition who were trying to live life within the confines
of that tradition, not yet seeing a different sort of feast that was set before them, willing to pack all the baggage that
was necessary to get them through an unknown world, an isolation that was a result of their having seen themselves as set
apart by God, much as the mountains perhaps set apart my own people.
Peter upsets them in his new found willingness to trust people whose story is different from his own. His dream in which he
is told that no food is unclean, and what he learns from dream, is a way to talk about what has happened in the death and
resurrection of Jesus. Peter learns that when we die to old ways of living and viewing the world, there are feasts to be held,
new cuisines to be tasted, and just as importantly, someone else to tote all the baggage, a son of God who takes the sins
of the world off us and on to himself. That sheet full of food is let down by someone else, gathered back by someone else.
All Peter has to do is show up and eat.
Fear of hunger is one of the primary fears of humanity. At the instinctual level it is why we put on weight that we don’t
need. We eat what we can when it is set before us because who knows if there will be enough in the future? But look at the
cost of doing so: being breathless while walking, decreased joy in the trip, even early death. Apply those physical costs
to our religious lives and you will see why fear of the unknown is so debilitating.
I have often wondered why the meal that Christians share ended up being so miniscule after a hundred or so years of the church’s
life. You would think that it would be a huge feast, like Easter dinner all year round, and yet all we get each Sunday is
a tiny bit of bread and a sip of wine. But remember what happened, according to Paul, when the early community gathered for
real meals. Everyone got selfish and drunk, each trying to hoard for himself.
So something happened. The food became less, I am convinced, precisely so that we would learn to trust that there will be
another meal, and that we are not in charge of it. The food became less so that we would learn what it is like to travel without
having to worry about taking along so much of our own stuff, so that we can have a vacation, so that we can be re-created.
The reality of humanity is that I still take too much with me when I go somewhere. But these days it is not food. I fill my
wallet with cash and I make certain I have at least three credit cards, one of which is not in my wallet---just in case. And
I look for familiar hotels and places to eat. But the writer of the book of Acts is telling me—and I hope, telling you—that
there are unexpected feasts out there when we are not so cautious. There are gumbos and chilies that will nourish us. There
are Latinos and Africans who will honor us by standing beside us. There are people rich and poor, gay and straight, conservative
and liberal, who will enrich our lives when we eat beside one another with God providing the meal. There is a feast awaiting
us in God’s kingdom. For those who are willing to travel lightly, for those who will trust that there is love and strength
and hope as yet unseen, there will never be a need to go hungry again. Amen.
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