Whose Comfort Counts?

Today is Thanksgiving. 

Memories of this day often revolve around family, food, and football.

I haven't been in the United States for Thanksgiving in eleven years, so I don't really know what it's like now. And anyway, I don't really celebrate Thanksgiving, or any other holiday, for that matter, as I did before. In fact, I am usually rather sad on days that are major holidays in my homeland, but I do have memories, and memories are for remembering and traditions must be made anew.  Grow, grow, GROW! ...as we used to say.

My grandmother loved to sneak gizzards in the dressing. My cousins and I would always ask her not to put them in there, but to no avail. She would feign ignorance,  "What? Well, honey, I don't know about that - I didn't think there were any in there" and she'd quietly giggle and it became something of a joke. Nowadays it might not be so funny, as accommodating people's requests is akin to acknowledging both their right to exist and their beliefs.

That being said, some of the most memorable Thanksgivings were those during my high school years, especially one in particular when addressing ugliness, sexism, and racism at the table led to a lively exchange, which is forever etched in my mind. We were coming into our own as young people and we were not complaisant. While I miss my Grandmother's cooking and I miss seeing my cousins, I don't miss tense road trips with my angry father or the heated arguments that would inevitably scorch the Thanksgiving table. As I got older, I was in more control about where and with whom I would spend this special day. My Thanksgiving memories as an adult are much sweeter, happier, and embraceable. I was blessed to have experienced Thanksgiving with new family relations, friends from different parts of the country, and people whose families were too far away for them to meet. Thanksgiving had truly become a time to be thankful.   

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I am an animal lover and that informs my eating decisions. Period. That being said, while living in another country, I'm not always in the control seat for menu offerings. Travelers are often advised that as guests, we should eat what is offered to us. Anything else would be considered rude, but at what point is it acceptable to consider your own comfort (and beliefs) when it comes to food?

This post won't answer that question - or any others. In fact the older I get the more I realize how little I know and hell, even if I did know something at one time, it surely doesn't mean the question is the same. Flexibility is key and so is a healthy dose of introspection. 

Where I live, due to religious beliefs, a great majority of the population neither drinks alcohol nor eats pork. As you can imagine, the lack of pork has never really been an issue for me, but at times it's been a little disheartening not to be able to find a cold beer when the mood hits. That being said, for many Indonesian Christians I've known over the years, the feeling seems to be that since there are no religious prohibitions for us regarding food, we (as I am a follower of Christ) are not only free to eat whatever we want, but that we should. I imagine this thinking stems from the scripture 1 Timothy 4: 4-5 (NIV)

4 For everything God created is good, and nothing is to be rejected
 if it is received with thanksgiving,
5 because it is consecrated by the word of God and prayer.

When I see online (in social media or news stories) that people are uncomfortable, stressed, or even a little irritated about accommodating the food requirements or preferences of guests sharing the Thanksgiving table, I naturally reflect on my years here. I think about the people who know that I don't want to eat meat or foods from animals and how graciously they have treated me. I think of the people that know and haven't cared, expecting me to eat what they serve since there's no "real" reason for me not to eat meat or products from animals. I reflect on my years in the service industry where I learned that sharing a meal with friends means a whole lot more than just eating. And maybe most of all, I think of what a privilege it is to prepare food for loved ones. Of what a blessing it is to be together, to laugh, to be happy.

I think about how eating is such a public thing, yet taps our inner most being - where grace can so easily turn to malice and sharing can shift towards judgment. Where eating dogs and cats is volleyed around just to get a reaction - from someone who lives in a house with cats AND a dog. 

Thanksgiving is a lovely time to gather and be thankful. Sharing a meal is a meaningful way to show love and friendship, but from where I sit, peace begins on a plate. If that offends you, may you find comfort. And may we all learn how to love one another, giving thanks that we can make choices with a spirit of compassion for all. If we choose ;)