![]() ![]() I would start, as Capon suggested, in the kitchen-with onions and knives and butter.Ī few years later, I stumbled onto “The Publican and the Pharisee”-the final chapter of Parables of Grace-and my spiritual life changed yet again. I’d been fearful in my faith, and I was about to become fearless. He read seven paragraphs in all, and I heard a call to love creation with the same passion that God does. The bread and the pastry, the cheeses, the wine, and the songs go into the Supper of the Lamb because we do It is our love that brings the City home. ![]() It will be precisely because we loved Jerusalem enough to bear it in our bones that its textures will ascend when we rise it will be because our eyes have relished the earth that the color of its countries will compel our hearts forever. I saw flashes of every good thing I’d ever known, and an endless banquet table set with food. That is the unconsolable heartburn, the lifelong disquietude of having been made in the image of God. We were given appetites, not to consume the world and forget it, but to taste its goodness and hunger to make it great. ![]() Then the professor opened a pale yellow copy of The Supper of the Lamb, and he read this: I was sitting in yet another seminary course, alternately looking for heresy and yawning. The first time I heard Capon’s words, I saw visions. ![]() Capon was an Episcopal priest and the author of 20 books, ranging from marriage manuals to novels. Robert Farrar Capon died last week, at the age of 88. ![]()
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