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Peace Meal Supper Club #2: Ghost Festival

This Supper Club theme was announced 10 days before my father passed away. It was a strange stroke of coincidence. The themes inherent in the Ghost Festival have been prominent in the relationship between us for the past 15 years, and as he left this life my sense of loss was mixed with a rich awareness of gratitude.

Contributions to my life include a deeply rooted love for food—not just eating it, but planting it and nurturing it into an abundant crop. He loved to cook also, and was always keen to experimentation. He shared his favorite dishes with great generosity. Other things he gave me were by demonstration: a sharp mechanical mind, facility in a wide range of crafts, a creative eye for solutions, and most of all, an attitude that a person can do what they determine to do, whether it be play fiddle or rebuild an old tractor. His ingenuity far exceeded his unadorned high school education.

He had a remarkable ability to forgive anything and reconcile with anyone—and that is a truly inspiring contribution to my life. Our road to reconciliation was winding and rocky, and navigating it required a few death-defying leaps from one cliff to the next. However, we completed the course and found ourselves becoming good friends late in his life. With each step, we confronted the problems directly and forgave liberally. The release of wrongs was not only between him and me; it helped him resolve wrongs committed against him by his own ancestors. He became a happier person as a result of all this hard work.

As we reconciled, and I could see with clarity, I began to appreciate the sacrifices he made for his family. He wanted the best for us and, given the limitations in which he lived, he achieved that goal. He was kind to our friends, welcoming to all, and would do anything he could for a person once he trusted them.

Clarity of conscience was an unspeakable gift in his final day. I was able to tell him, without qualification, that he was a good man, and that it was okay for him to go. Though I feel his absence, there is no sadness or regret. Our relationship, in spite of the odds, was a good one.

One last gift I’ll mention: he had a truly bizarre sense of humor, dressed up in a cloak of morbidity. As his health was failing, he knew he’d never be able to visit me here in New York. He enjoyed my cooking, however, and would have loved to be here at this meal. Perhaps he found yet another creative solution to a problem. Welcome to supper, Dad.

The menu, fore and aft, follows below.

 

Peace Meal Supper Club #2: Ghost Festival

Inspired by August celebrations in Japan and China, in which people honor the spirits of their ancestors. This menu reaches beyond the limitations of geography and direct descent.

Course 1:

Futomaki rolls ~ Pickled vegetables

With this traditional offering, we signify our ancestors’ contributions to our present well-being.

Course 2:

Scallion waffle ~ Vegetable tempura ~ Spiced plum sauce

Life is intrinsically savory and sweet. In reconciling both, we achieve sustaining harmony.

Course 3:

Panang tempeh roulade ~ Shiitakes braised with lemongrass ~ Red curry

Our abundance lies bundled in our unselfish service to others.

Course 4:

Seared plums ~ Five spice ice cream ~ Limoncello reduction

Delight is fostered by a clear conscience.

 

(The following appears on the reverse side of the menu.)

The Ghost Festival in China and the Bon Festival in Japan have their roots in the apocryphal Ullambana Sutra. In this text, Buddha’s disciple Maudgalyayana perceives his mother in torment in hell, so he asks the Buddha how he might release her. He is instructed to make food offerings to a group of monks as they return from a forest retreat. He does so, and sees that his mother is released. He cannot keep himself from dancing with great joy.

Both festivals contain echoes of the Confucian virtue of filial piety, which focuses on the honoring of parents, reconciliation, generosity, and continuance of the family’s good name. The spirit of these practices reaches beyond ideology and national celebration.

~ 1 ~

Our ancestors’ contributions to our lives are fundamental to our identity. We then act in agreement with or rejection of this identity. When we extend our concept of ancestors to include past social progressives, animal advocates, and environmental activists, we sense the depth of our debt to all who have worked for the well-being of all living things. We also gain a greater understanding of our work’s depth and vitality. Keeping our ancestors close in memory allows us to benefit from their inertia. They are the momentous breeze at our threshold.

~ 2 ~

Reconciliation is crucial for achieving sustained harmony. Forgiveness is a key component of reconciling, as it signifies letting go. It frees up all the backward-looking energy and makes it available for moving forward. All whom we’ve wronged or been wronged by—ancestors, forerunners, animals, future generations—benefit from reconciliation with us, for they also have their energy focused on moving forward.

In a similar vein, activists and artists live in a state of dissatisfaction; it drives our desire for change. But we must be able to transcend our struggle in order to maintain balance. We must acknowledge the progress that we are making—even if we are far from our desired goal. Quite possibly, those who preceded us were also unhappy with the progress they made, yet we celebrate their achievements and hope to be as effective.

~ 3 ~

Our abundance lies bundled in our unselfish service to others. Without doubt, we have received, and likewise we should give. Every act of kindness, every step towards liberation, brings us the increasing benefits of full liberation. In the story of Maudgalyayana above, he gave to others so that his mother could be free from suffering. With a generous heart he extended the circle of good will. As a result, the greater reward was his.

~ 4 ~

Delight is fostered by a clear conscience: this is the moral of the story of Maudgalyayana. Once he performed service to others in honor of his mother, he began to see all the sacrifices she had made for him. His conscience—seemingly clouded with ingratitude–was cleared by his action. Learning the merits of a giving heart, he danced joyfully.

Demonstrating goodness to others is a form of honor towards those who have gone before, for it perpetuates their goodness to us. Such continuity of effort enables us to making deeper and longer-lasting changes in the world around us.

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