So tonight it's stir-fried bok choy, again, with kohlrabi, garlic
scapes, onions, and you-pick peas. My family is eating our greens
(fresh, organic, and about as local as they come) because I see it as a
deeply theological act. What my family eats matters to me because, like
all aspects of this earthly life, food matters to God.

Food is a gift. In fact, food is the first gift. In one entirely
accurate sense, all things from God's good hands are gifts, but I think
food is somehow unique. Open a Bible to Genesis 1 and look at what God
does in the creation story. More specifically, look at the verbs: God
creates, he hovers, he says, he names, he separates, he makes and
blesses and sees and declares it good. But it isn't until the end of the
chapter, in verse 29, that he gives. And what does he give? Food.

"Behold," God says, "I have given you every plant and every tree. You
shall have them for food."

Later, after the Flood, God adds animals: "Every moving thing that lives
shall be food for you. And as I gave you the green plants, I give you
everything" (Gen. 9:3).

When properly understood as a gift, it becomes clear that food is a
tangible expression of God's love for us. As theologian Norman Wirzba
has put it, food is "God's love made edible." It is one essential way
that he shows his care for us (see Matt. 6:26). It is a physical
embodiment of God's common grace, given for the good of his creation.
And it's one of the practical means by which Jesus Christ sustains all
things.