In 1987, a sweet film (g-rated no less!) won the Academy Award for Best Foreign Film. Babette’s Feast told the story of two adult sisters living in an isolated village in 19th Century Denmark. The sisters’ father was the venerated pastor of a small Protestant church that is almost a sect unto itself. The film depicts the pastor, his daughters, the community and their brand of Christianity as austere and joyless as the harsh Danish landscape. Then one day, a French woman refugee, Babette, arrives at their door, begs them to take her in, and commits herself to work for them as maid/housekeeper/cook. Unbeknownst to the father and sisters, Babette had previously been the chef for the finest restaurant in Paris.
Some years pass with Babette cooking nothing more than broth and bread and boiled fish, until one day she comes into an unexpected fortune. The sisters are trying to plan a dinner to commemorate their (now deceased father) and Babette volunteers to cook and pay for the most lavish feast of their lifetime. Only the sisters and few church members who are used to nothing but the most simple fare can barely comprehend, let alone consume all that has been given to them so freely.
For those of us who watch the film, the contrast between Babette’s generosity and the church members' struggle with receiving such grace, such beauty, such delight is part of the sweetness of the film. We who can peer into the supper from a distance more completely comprehend that the very piety of these dour folks keeps them from enjoying the free gift given to them. Yet we also see the inklings of their understanding, the flashes of experiencing the greatness of the feast before them. We only wish that we could be there taking it all in! We get it, we want it, we know what a gift this meal is, what a sign of love, what an act of grace.
If only those who are at the meal could have eyes to see…
In many ways, we who read the story of Jesus’ meal with his disciples after their walk to Emmaus are in the same place. When we read the story in Luke 24:13-35 we recognize long before the downcast disciples the great and lavish gift in their midst. They are with Jesus! They will walk, spend the day and then dine with Jesus! This is the great perspective of faith, the advantage of living on this side of Pentecost. But how often we miss our own holy moments, how rarely do we recognize that as we gather together, Jesus is fulfilling his promise to be with us whenever we “eat this bread and drink from this cup.”
May we have eyes to see the lavishness of God’s grace present with us whenever we break bread together. No matter the meal, tis always a feast!
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