Maggie’s Kitchen – June 05
FROM MAGGIE’S KITCHEN
My daughter has recently taken great interest in cacti — surprisingly, since she once found any association of her person with the cactus an insult (a long story, dating from junior high years, which I won’t go into here). This morning’s tidbit of information: To graft one cactus onto another, use superglue.
Of course, since Susan’s phone call coincided with my finishing up the Sunday bulletin for Pentecost, with a quote from St. Basil the Great on the Holy Spirit in relation to baptism, my mind made connections — and disconnections. Is what happens to us in baptism like superglue, attaching us at least semipermanently to the Godhead?
It sounds like a wonderful paper-bag sermon topic — you know, the kind of sermon where the preacher pulls an object out of the bag and uses it to launch into a theological explanation. Unfortunately, the analogy, however attention-getting, can carry unwanted messages of its own (in this case uncomfortably likening God to a kind of giant prickly pear). All analogies have their limitations, but some are particularly misleading or dreadfully inadequate. Caveat emptor.
Is baptism like superglue? St. Basil would probably not have found the analogy apt for Christian baptismal theology: “Shining upon those who [through baptism] have been purified of every stain,” he wrote, “He [the Holy Spirit] makes them spiritual in heart, through union with Himself.” Superglue remains external to the process of grafting, a mere aid, though a whole lot easier to employ than the usual splints and splices. Baptism, on the other hand, is integral to the graft, as we have been taught: “an outward and visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace” — a “sign effecting what it signifies”. All superglue can do is hold two disparate things together. It’s useful, but doesn’t of itself effect or change anything. It doesn’t make the two things one, and it does nothing to prepare the cutting for grafting.
Superglue, I suppose, is more akin to the parents and godparents who bring the child to be baptized. Or, to change the analogy, like the marriage broker, who sets up the deal but in no way effects the union. Well, you get the drift of my thoughts: Unlike the sacraments, superglue isn’t character-changing, though it’s definitely useful in some applications.
June offers two stunning examples of character change, the holy Apostles Peter and Paul (June 29). Forget the bumbling-idiot and hate-monger stereotypes you hear now and then. However, their loyalty and zeal, though genuine, were unenlightened. Only by the power and grace of the Holy Spirit were these men transformed into Christ-likeness — and then so much so that Paul’s handkerchiefs and Peter’s mere shadow were enough to cure the sick. For Paul, it was “no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me”. For Peter, it was Christ Himself suffering through him. (You may remember the ancient tradition that as Peter fled Rome, he encountered the risen and ascended Jesus on the road. “Quo vadis, Domine? Where are you going, Lord?” “To Rome, to be crucified.” So Peter returned, going where he had had no wish to go, to his upside-down crucifixion.)
Somewhat earlier in June, on the 24th, there is St. John the Baptist, in whom the same mind was evident: “He must increase, and I must decrease.” John’s baptism was for repentance only, but he saw, as a prophet, the baptism of rebirth to come. His own baptism may have been a superglue affair, but not so baptism “with the Holy Ghost and with fire”.
From Rome, the city of the martyrdoms of St. Peter and St. Paul, a traditional dish for St. John’s Day:
LUMACHE CON SALSA
(Escargots in Sauce)
This simple recipe is taken from Ernst Schuegraf’s wonderful Cooking with the Saints. Schuegraf, by the way, lives in Antigonish, Nova Scotia.
In a heavy saucepan sauté 4 Tbsp chopped onion and 1 tsp minced garlic in 2 Tbsp extra-virgin olive oil until golden. Add 7 oz. canned snails (escargots to the squeamish) and brown them. Roughly chop 1-1/2 cups canned plum tomatoes, saving the juice; add tomatoes and juice to the pan, with 1/2 tsp each of salt, sugar, dried basil (better yet, 2 tsp finely chopped fresh basil), and crumbled dried whole-leaf orègano. Cover and simmer for 30 minutes. Add a pinch each of black pepper and cayenne, Add more salt if necessary. Serve on cooked spaghettini. 4 main course servings, or antipasto for 6.