There’s nothing like stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, and especially PIE =) to hit the spot for comfort food during a crisp autumn Thanksgiving. Of course I ate way too much over the weekend, and come Sunday evening, it was time to return home from our clan get-together and to the Nativity Fast. One is ready to fast again — austerely! — after eating so much. But I have always loved Thanksgiving as a holiday, so I’m glad not to have missed it. I remember going as a child up north (in northern Michigan) to my grandmother’s cabin on the river. She would make everything from scratch, including her famous cranberry relish and her five-cup salad, which I loved — yes, I admit it! — for the miniature marshmallows. :) After dinner, we would take our cross country skis and shoosh around the mile to rejuvenate our appetites, then come back for homemade pumpkin pie. Grandma would always serve it with Cool Whip. On the way up to her house we would sing, “Over the river and through the woods, to grandmother’s house we go.” Passing by familiar landmarks, our song came literally true as we drove. Every year we looked for Mr. Porky-pine, who was ever in the road waiting for us. We’d stop the car and watch him waddle away in the snow before passing on through a narrow two-track trail between snow-laden fir trees. There would be deer and other critters watching us, their eyes gleaming in the headlights. I remember Grandma in a smeared apron busily cooking in her small kitchen when we arrived, and eating off her small round kitchen table, with us kids set up at a flimsy card table nearby. I can still smell the turkey and hear the talk, endless grown-up talk about all the latest family gossip. The phone would ring, and everyone would listen intently to see if it was the ring for my grandmother’s house. She and grandfather shared a party line with several neighbors, and someone would always tell the joke about an ancient auntie who could never distinguish which ring was hers. Everyone would ask, every time the phone rang, “That yer ring, Myrt?” I am guessing the ancient auntie’s name was Myrtle. Does anyone name their child such a thing in these not-so-ancient days?

Those are my fondest memories of Thanksgiving as a child way up in northern Michigan. This year we drove up to Minnesota to visit my husband’s family. There was still food and talk — and even snow! Nick took the boys and Kate out for a snowball fight. But there is a sort of melancholy, too, of growing older and somewhat weary.

So what are feasts and fasts for? What is this “discipline” we engage in as Orthodox Christians? Are we justified in breaking off the Nativity Fast for a day or a weekend to celebrate this most American of traditional secular feasts? Driving the long way back home last night gave me some time to think about fasting and feasting. In particular, why alternate between them so regularly? If fasting is good for our souls, why not do that all the time? What is feasting all about, especially the food aspect of it?

The most basic fact that hit me right off was how much comfort there can be in food. Feasting food — especially after a period of fasting — tastes so good. People who never fast simply cannot appreciate how good food can taste. It’s not so much about being hungry (from not eating at all) as it is about being suddenly free to eat foods that hold enormous comfort and a real satisfaction in them, not only of body, but of soul. Comfort food is soul food! Combine feasting food with friends and family and a warm fire — and snow outside and fond memories — and you feel an overall sense of well-being, of being home, of bounty and blessing. It is hard to describe. One gives thanks to God for this blessing. It is time to thank God for all the food, and for all the familial and earthly blessings of life. Celebrating the American feast of Thanksgiving is an appropriate time to be thankful and thankful to God.

And yet, at the end of the weekend, the fast returns. For me, it is welcome. Why? Because, as important as it is to thank God for the bounty of food, and for family, and for all the material blessings of life, it is even more important to KNOW that the earthly feast is a mere foretaste of the heavenly one. There is more to come. The company of friends and family is a mere foretaste of the heavenly company of saints, and angels, and above all, of the communion of God Himself, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Earthly feasts provide a feeling for heaven, but after a few days, they don’t satisfy, not forever, not all the way through. By the end of Thanksgiving weekend, I have eaten more than enough stuffing, potatoes, gravy, and pie. So what is this more that I could still possibly want? It is GOD. No matter how much comfort food I enjoy with thanksgiving, there’s still an empty place inside me waiting for Him to fill it up. I still wait for a bounty and blessing and joy that no earthly feast can possibly give. Returning to the fast is how I can show God — and myself — that earthly food, as good as it is, is merely a hopeful sign, a temporary blessing. I give up the food again as I recognize that there is still something, Someone, I want even more. We feast on earth as a reminder of the comfort and peace to come, and in returning to the fast we recognize that earthly fulfillment is never complete. Just as there is freedom to eat, there is freedom to fast, out of an even greater love and desire.

Our Nativity Fast will end with the coming of Christ again into the world and into our souls in such a way that can hardly be captured by any physical indulgence. There will be celebration of His coming, and a Feast at His altar, that can compare with no other. Let’s move forward now from our Thanksgiving reminder to get ready for the Incarnation of Christ. There is a Eucharist coming even now that will be wonder of all wonders and fulfillment of even the deepest hunger and need.