At our first meal, I was pleasantly surprised to find that the dining room had a table set aside with vegetarian/vegan items along with a tofu stir-fry as our entry. There has been peanut butter, whole wheat bread, fruit, and soy milk at every meal, oatmeal at breakfast, and for lunch one day, they even made homemade black bean burgers with fresh chili sauce. Yummy!
Meals were going very well during this retreat until dinner on day 4.
I was at the first table dismissed for dinner that evening. The veg option that night was a little slow coming out so I had to wait. After walking all afternoon I was hungry, so when the entry arrived (it looked like another tofu stir-fry), I scooped two large spoonfuls onto my plate without thinking or really looking. While in conversation with folks at the table, I took a bite and paused, then took a second bite and stopped, and thought, "Some thing does not taste right here." I looked carefully at what I had been eating and realized that my suspicions were correct.
What I thought were pieces of tofu were actually big chunks of fish!!
For the first 4 days of the retreat, we had been eating our meals in silence. This dinner on night 4 was a special celebration of our senses, and with the vow of silence lifted, everyone was talking and chatting, getting to know people, and enjoying the meal and special wines that were also served just for this occasion. Everyone was having a great time at that moment except me.
With the taste of fish in my mouth, a large serving covering nearly half my plate, and conversation swirling all around me, I found myself trying to quickly process an ethical quandary of what to do. (Drinking a glass of wine on an empty stomach also didn't help!)
I realized that for the first time, 2 important values were colliding in my life, and a decision of what to do needed to be made.
- Do I not eat what was on my plate, and thus throw away the fish and honor my vegan commitment?
- Or do I eat the fish on my plate, and thus honor my commitment to the environment and those who are hungry by not wasting food (aka not taking or using more than I need)?
"What to do? What to do?" I then went to Esther, our logistics person who works with the retreat center staff. As she was dismissing tables to the buffet line, I informed her that the vegetarian meal was fish and suggested that she let the other vegetarians know before others make the same mistake I did. She said she wasn't sure who the other veggies were, but she would keep it in mind. She said she would eventually talk to the kitchen staff about it.
"What to do? What to do?" What I wanted to do was eat. I was hungry. Thus, walking back to my seat, I decided since I was on retreat and out of my "normal routine", it would be best to "grin and bear it", and eat what was on my plate.
With each bite, however, I felt guilty and defeated. My vegan commitment was falling by the wayside at this meal. My hunger, my pride, my not wanting to appear wasteful, all the social pressure of the happy carnivores at the table enjoying their tri-tip -- it all contributed to my "falling off the wagon".
I felt like I had no choice, but in reality, I did. I could have made a peanut butter sandwich if I wanted something else to eat. Throwing all the fish away would have opened up a good conversation about the value of vegan/vegetarian diet. I could have asked the kitchen to provide something else for me to eat. I could have offered what I had not yet eaten to someone at the table. In retrospect, there were other choices, but I couldn't see them. (I blame that on the wine!)
Though I ate everything on my plate, I did not enjoy my meal which was to be a celebration of the sense of taste. As I put down my fork and breathed a sigh of relief that the ethical agony of eating this meal was over, I noticed that one of the kitchen staff came out with a plate and brought it to Esther. As a peso-vegetarian, she eats fish and was content with her veg option. She motioned to me as John walked my way with a huge plate of stir-fried veggies and tofu. Without even asking, he removed my empty plate, and said, "I hope this will be more to your liking."
With another full plate in front of me, I thus began my second dinner. Though I was initially hungry, I wasn't THAT hungry! Since plate one was eaten because of my desire not to waste food, I felt like plate two needed to be cleaned to honor that same conviction. I picked up the fork to eat again. I was very full by the time that second plate was empty, and like the first plate, I cleaned it but I didn't enjoy it. Something was bothering me.
The plate of fish was actually very tasty, but I could not savor it because I felt like I would be violating some great "vegan law" if I enjoyed eating the meat. The plate of stir-fry tofu was also very tasty, but I could not enjoy it because I was full, and felt like if I had controlled my hunger, not rushed to get to eating, and looked at what I was putting on my plate, I could have expressed my vegan needs to the kitchen, remained true to my vegan conviction, and would not have to overdose on a second plate of food.
We've been studying the writings of Bonaventure during this retreat. And for Bonaventure, everything comes in 3's. While I thought there were only 2 values colliding during the meal that evening, there really was a third.
The third value, which should really be my first value as I have been reminded of by Bonaventure and Francis of Assis during this retreat, is: God is our Summum Bonum (highest good). Or as we might say today: "God is good, all the time."
Bonaventure writes that when our "human desire is directed at nothing but the supreme Good, or that which leads to it or reflects that Good in a certain way, ... the power of choice leads to the highest Good (Summum Bonum)." (The Journey of the Human Person Into God, chapter 3, paragraph 4).
Thus, even if I mistakenly eat meat and enjoy it, God is Summum Bonum. God will redeem what I have chosen, and make good that situation.
- Even if I waste a plate of food out of conviction, or even make a poor decision about what I put on my plate and in my mouth, God is still Summum Bonum.
- Even when values and convictions collide and I must make one choice of what to do, God is still Summum Bonum - whatever my decision.
- God is good all the time. And all the time God is good, and for that, I am thankful, for in all situations, I choose to give my Creator praise.
Even as a vegan, that is to be my first choice, my highest value.
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