There is pretty much never a prayer on the food at our house. Once in a rare while one of the younger kids may announce that she wants to bless the food to which I usually respond, "The food is perfectly fine and doesn't need blessing. If you want to give thanks for the meal, give it to your mother."
This past Sunday we had my parents-in-law over for pot roast and mashed potatoes. As we were sitting down to eat my mother-in-law, from the head of the table where she managed to seat herself, announced, "Let's get this food blessed before I starve to death."
I was ready with one of my standard comebacks but decided this time not to pick the fight. Instead, Donna politely asked one of the girls to say a prayer.
"heavenlyfatherpleaseblessthisfoodthatitwillnourishand
stregthenourbodiesanddousthegoodweneed
inthenameofjesuschristamen."
"AaaaayMEN. That was a BEAUTIFUL prayer", my mother-in-law swooned.
I'm just s'glad she remembered to take it upon herself to assign the prayer for the meal. She really went above and beyond. After all, all we asked her to do was bring a salad.
Later in the evening my father-in-law and I were watching the Mets have their way with the Cardinals.
"I wish these guys would go back to wearing baseball pants. What happened to the old days where they all wore knickers and stirrups? Society has really gone down the toilet", he bitched.
"Speaking of toilets. Do you have a second to look at the toilet in the new bathroom? I'm having a hard time getting it installed right and I know you've put a few in over the years." I asked.
"Not on a Sunday, Pete. The sabbath is a day of rest."
So there we sat watching pro athletes play a game being broadcast by announcers, technicians, directors, advertisers, a cable network and a local affiliate after a meal my wife spent HOURS preparing... and he can't have a glance at a wax ring because of the sabbath?
My guess is that Jesus would have set the rules (and television) aside and taken that opportunity to do service for another. But Sunday isn't about what Jesus would do, right?
Well... at least the food was properly blessed.
Filed under - Family | Food | MormonismPerhaps you've never prepared a meal for 9 people. Or perhaps you simply slip into your fig leaf "Kiss The Pastry Chef" apron, raise your hands above your head and while lowering your hands say the words, "Oh God, cook the food for my mouth", repeated three times. -poof- Sunday dinner.
By the way. I only allow anonymous comments so that I can call the anonymous commenter a chicken shit. Chicken shit.
I used to use that same Sabbath excuse when someone asked me to do something I didn't want to bother with.
Now that I'm exmormon, I just tell people "no".
Eric
Don't take it personally, ol' bloke, I'm Anon just about everywhere. And perhaps I should send you my 1998 request to have my name removed from the church records?
"HOURS" for pot roast and mashed taters doesn't add up, whatever religion you are. Sunday dinners here are made for thirteen if only immediate family comes and no one brings a date or friend or hobo. No, I don't think I've cooked specifically for nine, but I have cooked for up to 60. Pot roast and potatoes for 60 still wouldn't take that long (but I don't peel the potatoes when I mash them, which saves time and adds vitamins or minerals or something).
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It took your wife "HOURS" to come up with a pot roast and mashed potatoes? She must have read the recipe wrong...