The Church has failed to embrace artists

If you walk around Europe and stumble into an old church, you’ll see priceless artwork. For centuries the Catholic Church commissioned artists to paint, sculpt, and manifest the biblical stories in their chosen medium. These artists were brought up in a world where the strength of religious belief was limited by a number of factors, including Church hierarchy, politics, preaching, literacy, imagination, and the availability of visual aids for communal prayer. There were no screens, pictures, or mass-produced illustrations–God lived in people’s minds. That is, until artists were commissioned to depict how these ancient stories unfolded.

When in the Sistine Chapel, it is said the purpose of artwork is self-evident. Entire scenes exist in unchanging, realistic depictions, reminding the faithful of the most important aspects of their faith: be good and fearful of God and his ordained ambassadors or end up in Satan’s grasp. Such a masterpiece as the Sistine Chapel could never have been created unless the Church worked closely with the greatest artists alive.

It was a mutual relationship–the Church supported artists, and artists used their gifts for the spiritual good of God’s people. But Michelangelo wasn’t alone when painting the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel–several high-ranking clergy remained on the ground, ensuring his work did not deviate from doctrine.

Though limits surely existed, the Church embraced the arts as a way to demonstrate not only their power but the beauty of human handiwork. Through these co-creative efforts performed by artists on earth, in time and space, God meets humankind. There remains to this day magnificent power in the artwork of this time period.

So, where did all the great Catholic artists go?

In his book Art for Church: Cloth of Gold, Cloak of Lead, our late friend and teacher, Dennis McNally, SJ, explores this question. Dennis, who worked as a painter and art professor at Saint Joseph’s University for half a century, felt this tension personally.

Dennis accounts that, in the modern American Church, the arts are secondary to the intellectual tradition. Churches built today are mostly devoid of art. Modern architects favor empty spaces, sometimes dark, other times a white-box. Modern liturgical spaces resemble no longer resemble the great Gothic, Baroque, Romanesque, and Renaissance cathedrals of the Middle Ages. Instead, modern church architecture are places of respire, devoid of stimulation from the constant imagery of the world.

Rather than be led by images, the faithful are led by lectures, meditative hymns, and creeds which tell them what to think, believe, and do–not feel. Just as Jesus was removed from the crucifix during the Reformation, so, too, do modern churches remove the opportunity for masterpieces.

Even if there were a desire for paintings and sculptures to enter these spaces, who would make them? Where are all the Catholic artists? Many have left because the Church has not accepted, welcomed, embraced, encouraged, uplifted, or commissioned them to create work for God.

Instead, expression is stifled. Modern art is far too dangerous and distasteful to be displayed in Church. It’s better to mass produce copies of the most famous pieces than embrace any new, unique art. Surely, the art of today is not inspired by the Spirit as those great pieces from the past were. Let’s make sure there is very little art in the sanctuary, and that Jesus is always clothed.

The reality is the Church is suffering because it has lost its artists, and with them the inspiration to see things in a new way.

The Church needs the arts, and we need people to be patrons of the arts. We need your inspiration, your heart, your fire, your soul, your gift. And we need those church politicians with no artistic proclivities to take a back seat. This is not your jurisdiction.

When Dennis passed away, he left behind hundreds of paintings. I am the sole patron of Dennis’ remaining, unsold work. His paintings, some of which were painted to be displayed in churches and prayed with, are available for sale.

To view the catalog of available paintings or get in contact with me, click here.

What I learned from Darryl Grumling

Dear Darryl,

I’ve been wanting to write this for a while but never did. It got to a point where I put this off for so long that I didn’t think I needed to write it anymore – I thought the things you taught me were already cemented in my knowing. Then I tried to remember what I was initially going to write: “What I Learned from Darryl Grumling.” Only I couldn’t remember what I learned. Now I know I have to write this.

Darryl, I really miss you. I miss you more now than I ever did when you were here. I never appreciated you for who you were, the kind, gentle soul that so blessed my life. I never gave your presence the presence you needed in return.

It took me a while before I put it together, but I probably spent more time with you over the 3 years I knew you than I ever have spent with my Grammy and Grandpa. We probably had more conversations than I’ve had with some of my closest friends. And you’ve probably shared more stories with me than I’ve heard from any of my roommates over the years.

It’s funny how time passes and moves. I’ll be honest, sometimes I wasn’t in the proper headspace for your stories. You would start talking to me about PJP golf or Daniel Boone baseball and I was too focussed on myself to care. I would think to myself how annoying your stories were and how you didn’t get the hint that I wasn’t interested. But you were interested. You cared deeply about these stories and the people in them.

I didn’t get it at the time. Now I think I understand it better. You were telling stories that deserved to be told. You were a small town high school sports writer. You loved high school sports, not because they were the most outstanding athletic events in the world, but because they were about small town kids making their dreams come true. You would name drop high school students nobody has ever heard about like they were household names.

Darryl, you spotlighted kids that nobody else cared to spotlight. You made people feel welcome, you made people feel important, and you made people feel like they were winners. You wrote stories about winners that wouldn’t have been told had you not been here.

You told stories that deserved to be told.

A strange thing happened to me when you passed. I feel like I became more closed off. I was so emotional that I was unbearable, so I started to wrap my emotions up. I feel like in recent months I’ve become somewhat narcissistic. I appear nice on the outside but really have a pretty negative view of others, of myself, and of the world.

Then I think about you. I think back to how much you loved the work you did, how much you needed to tell these stories that nobody else was telling. You weren’t just a sportswriter — you were a friend to those kids. You gave them the recognition they deserved. You gave them the hope they needed to keep playing. You made them feel like they mattered to more people than just their families.

You became their family.

Darryl, I hope to do work half as passionately as you one day. I hope to tell stories with half as much zeal, passion, and conviction as you. I hope to shine the light on others, even when I’m not too happy with myself. I hope to do work that matters for people who care, just like you did.

There are a few things I learned from you, and I want to numerate them here in a list. This isn’t everything I’ve learned from you, but the biggest points.

1. Sing others’ songs until they remember the words

I heard this saying from Aubrey Marcus as he was referencing the channel Paul Selig. Darryl, you were just about my biggest fan. You always praised my accomplishments and made me remember the great things I did. You called me “Mr. PJP,” and “The Homecoming King,” and “The Trackstar.” You made me feel loved and like I was worthy of praise. You reminded me of who I was until I remembered for myself. I want to be this person for others. I want to lift others up when I’m not having the best day. I want to make others feel good when I feel lousy. I want to be for others what you were for me. And when I’m not recognized for the good work I do, I want to remember that you’re still in my corner, cheering me on. I will always be an all star to you.

2. Be present and listen

Darryl, I wasn’t always interested in your stories, but you were always interested in all of us. Us caddies are not the most exciting bunch, but you made us the heroes we always wished we were. I wish I paid more attention to your stories. I wish I didn’t wish I was somewhere else. I wish I just listened without judgement, I wish I asked more questions, and I wish I got to know you better. I wish I heard your cries for storytelling, for health, for friendship. What I wouldn’t give to hear one more Darryl Grumling story.

3. Celebrate every moment

There were so many days where you got to work and told me a story about something small that happened on your loop yesterday. Somebody hit it from 175 yards out to within 5 feet, somebody made a monster put on 12, or somebody drove the ball 300 yards. You were so excited for other people and you celebrated for them. I want to be the person who cheers on the success of others, not envies their success. You helped me see the value in showing others love regardless of where I’m at in my life. Just show love and the rest will fall into place.

Darryl, you left this world too soon. I wish I reached out more, I wish I offered you some more tangible health advice, and I wish I was more present in your presence. I still think about you all the time, especially when I’m at Stonewall. I hear your voice talking to me when I’m walking across four and on the fourteen fairway. Your spirit was not lost in your death.

It was a sad day when I attended your funeral. I really, really missed you. I still really, really miss you. We were friends, and even though I didn’t show it I really did love you. You were like my fun uncle who was always in my corner, who always had my back. You were in so many people’s corners over the years. You cheered so many people on. You made so many people feel like they belonged.

Darryl, I know your life probably wasn’t what you dreamed it could be. But you came into my life when I needed you to be there. You made me feel like I am worthy of love, like I am doing a good job, and like I belonged. Thank you for being such a good human being and for being yourself. Not everybody accepted you, but not everybody matters. You made people feel like they matter, and that’s what counts.

I will never hear “no dice” or “the rat race” or “Slim Quick” without thinking of you. Thank you for showing me what it means to be a friend, even when I wasn’t the best friend for you.

You will always be with me.

With love,

Mr. PJP

July 11, 2020

The Resurrection of the Body: Evidence, Reasoning, and Belief

This is my term paper for my Christianity and Evidence course. The topic is the philosophical basic for the Christian belief in Resurrection of the Body. It’s pretty theological and intellectual, so read at your own risk. (P.S. I got an A 🙂

            N. T. Wright’s argument for the bodily resurrection of Christ is compelling, providing substantial evidence for the philosophical framework of Christianity.  But for Christians, Jesus’s resurrection is the beginning of the story.  An essential tenet of Christian faith is that the faithful will resurrect on the last day, just as Jesus did.  This belief was controversial from the beginning among disciples and nonbelievers alike.  None demonstrated this dissonance better than St. Augustine when he commented, “On no point does the Christian faith encounter more opposition than on the resurrection of the body” (CCC, 996).  Though a significant point of contention, this doctrine deals with a future event (the end of the world) rather than a past event; because of this, questions about the resurrection of the body classically fall under eschatology rather than philosophy.  Wright’s abduction argument fails to address this issue in great depth, restricting any claims about the bodily resurrection of believers to discussion of 1 Corinthians 15.  For the sake of this argument, let’s suppose Wright’s conclusion is true.  After considering this and exploring evidence from multiple disciplines, I will attempt to demonstrate that belief in bodily resurrection is logically sound and extends benefits to those who accept it.  Indeed, this precept provides meaning to the Christian life while increasing comfort, hope, and an urgency to live a meaningful life.  To begin this discussion, the origins of resurrection belief must be explored.

           Resurrection has always been a radical concept, largely because it seems to oppose the laws of nature.  Though the tradition was promulgated by first century followers of Jesus, it has Jewish roots and was most popular among the Pharisees, a major group during the time of Jesus.  The Jewish people had been victims of oppression for thousands of years, but the Pharisees held that one day oppressors, both Jewish and foreign, would be overthrown by a revolt of resurrected righteous believers (Wright, 2003).  All Jews believed that creation was good (Gen. 1:1–2:4a); however, the world God created is filled with choices.  Some people chose to live a life pleasing to God, while others rejected God and lived for their own gain.  Resurrection meant that, somehow, those favored by God would one day rise from the dead bodily, overthrow the selfish, oppressive rulers, and live in the glorified city of Israel (which was in the created world).  While there was no consensus throughout Judaism, this tradition stems from interpretations of various Old Testament texts.  Such passages include the psalmist’s soul being saved from Sheol (Ps. 49:16), Ezekiel’s account of dry bones coming to life (Ezek. 37: 1, 14), and the accounts of persecuted Jewish leaders receiving their bodies again (2 Macc. 7).  Though these passages can be understood in different ways, they are the original inspiration for belief in bodily resurrection.

            In essence, Jews who believed in resurrection believed all righteous people would rise at once and lead a revolt.  This perspective shifted when people started believing in Christ’s resurrection.  The best accounts of the early Christian view on resurrection are within Saint Paul’s epistles, specifically 1 Corinthians 15.  Paul’s resurrection accounts clarify concerns among early followers, namely that resurrection will be bodily, transformative, and have some continuance of personal identities (Mercer, 2017).  As opposed to Jewish belief, the Christian understanding became that Christ was the “firstfruits”—the first portion of harvest, sacrificed to consecrate the rest of the harvest—of the resurrection (1 Cor. 15:20ff).  So Christ rose first, and all others would rise, as he did, during the second coming of Christ, the consummation of history (CCC 1001).  Though Paul admits the how of the resurrection is cannot be fully known, he describes what he believes the “resurrection body” will be like.  He compares the resurrection body to a seed, maintaining that our earthly bodies, which are sown in rebellion to God, will be transformed to “spiritual bodies” (in Greek, soma pneumatikon) that will be raised in harmony with God (Wright, 2003).  Paul believes that our resurrection must logically follow Christ’s, for God showed that it is possible and we are made in His image, both earthly and spiritually (1 Cor. 15:49).

            Belief in resurrection is drastically different the from pagan convictions at the time, with the Platonic hypothesis of an immortal soul continuing in a disembodied afterlife being the predominant idea (Rausch, 2008).  Plato’s dualism generally held that the material world inhibits the accessibility of the world of the forms.  This concept of devaluing the material world—and even seeing created reality as evil—was adopted by the gnostic tradition as well (Brown, 2017).  Acceptance of a non-material afterlife has sustained popularity throughout history, including early Christianity.  In fact, Wright argues that Paul believes in a two-stage afterlife: a spiritual afterlife with God after death, and a bodily resurrection at the end of time (Wright, 2003).  Joseph Ratzinger, one of the most prominent eschatologists in the modern age, contends that this first stage isn’t merely the continuance of our once corporeal existence; rather, one’s soul transforms into a new creation (Gavin, 2017).  So, in a way, the Christian belief in resurrection is an amalgamation of previous traditions.  It honors the goodness of the material world, hoping that the faithful can one day enjoy the fruits of creation once again.  At the same time, it accepts Plato’s world of the forms and the possibilities of a disembodied, spiritual reality after death.

            This progressive revelation of resurrection is important.  It posits that early Christians didn’t merely adapt Jewish interpretations of resurrection, but they developed a mature, thoughtful concept about afterlife existence.  However, though Paul’s accounts are thorough they are eschatological in nature and based more so in faith than reason.  Luckily, philosophers like Saint Thomas Aquinas have considered resurrection of the body.  Montague Brown’s analysis of the Commentary on the First Epistle to the Corinthians can shed light on how this belief, namely the philosophical basis for bodily resurrection and transformation, can be logically established.

            Grounded in Aristotelian physics, Aquinas’s life work was to justify how the Christian faith can exist in the natural world.  One point of dispute between Aquinas and Plato is the relation of body to soul in the human being.  Plato postulates that the body hinders the soul, while Aquinas argues that the body is good for the soul because it allows for the soul to seek, learn, and grow within the human community (Brown, 2017).  He furthers this discussion by holding that the soul isn’t one’s primary substance, but the individual is.  Put in another way, the soul is a part of one’s body: just as I use my eyes to see, I also use my soul to direct my will (Brown, 2017).  The body, too, is an intrinsic part of the individual.  Aquinas claims that human beings are rational animals, unique throughout creation because we possess an intellect and a will.  This dichotomy—a rational animal that has a body and soul—is the very essence of humanity (Brown, 2017).  Justification for resurrection comes when Aquinas details the soul’s separation from the body after death.  Though the soul transcends the body after death, it exists in a state where the individual, which exists as a unity of body and soul, is not complete, not in full actuality (Brown, 2017). 

           Aquinas proposes three reasons why this separateness cannot exist forever, eventually concluding that there must be a reunion of body and soul through resurrection.  First, Aquinas deems this separated state to be unnatural, and no unnatural state can exist forever (Brown, 2017).  The body has allowed the soul to express and discover one’s individual identity, so a soul devoid of its body—its mode of being—is imperfect and unnatural.  Secondly, Aquinas talks about happiness.  He says that complete happiness cannot be generalized to a population but must concern the individual (Brown, 2017).  Aquinas argues that happiness is the pursuit of God, so complete happiness would be union with God, something only possible in death (Aquinas, 1975).  Because of this, an individual’s complete happiness can only exist if that individual shares life with God as a complete person, both body and soul.  If just of the soul continued, happiness would be incomplete.  Aquinas’s last justification for the resurrection considers final causality.  An individual makes decisions in life through free will, so the individual (body and soul) should be held accountable for his choices if there comes a time of final judgement (Brown, 2017).  In all three of these arguments, Aquinas shows that the unity of body and soul within the individual points to bodily resurrection as a necessity for afterlife existence.

            These defenses add merit to the theoretical possibility of bodily resurrection, but Aquinas must still deal with the questions Paul raises in 1 Corinthians 15, specifically how and what kind of body.  One of the main objections to the resurrection of the body is the lack of an efficient, natural cause to restore body to soul.  To this, Aquinas agrees that there is no natural cause; rather, resurrection can only occur through divine power (Brown, 2017).  Nature doesn’t create the same thing twice, so just as God creates each soul ex nihlo, He will so recreate each union of soma pneumatikon to soul ex nihlo (Brown, 2017).  The specific how and what kind questions of the resurrection cannot be known by human reason but are based in the faith in God’s power (CCC, 1000).  If God raised Jesus in a glorified body, he is also able to raise humanity in this way.  Because God is full actuality, God is anything that He can be and God does anything that He can do (Aquinas, 1975).  So our resurrection is an effect of, and is made possible by, Christ’s.  To summate the remainder of Aquinas’s justification, we must reconsider two aforementioned points: that creation is good and that humans have free will.  Aquinas contends that creation is good, but because the first humans freely chose themselves over God, death entered the picture (Brown, 2017).  It’s only at the consummation of history that creation’s full goodness can be restored and the potential of humanity can be actualized, all through the resurrection of the body.

            So far, based on the acceptance of Wright’s argument, I have discussed the historical and philosophical evidence that suggests bodily resurrection is plausible.  At the very least, it can be logically justified on the grounds that Jesus was raised from the dead bodily.  The conversation to follow will be about what this belief means for the Christian faithful.  To better grasp the significance of this belief, we must explore both the eschatology of the end times and what philosophers have to say about death as part of the human experience.

            Before going any further, I must state the obvious: people are afraid to die.  Human consciousness allows us to be aware of the life we’re living and to question when that life will end.  What is the meaning of life? is one of the most important human questions.  Most of us want the answer to inspire hope, but for many, asking this unanswerable question yielded a great deal of despair.  When Søren Kirkegaard sought the meaning of life in the 19th century, it made him so distressed that he identified existential angst as a prevalent human problem (O’Brien).  Kirkegaard supposed that having this angst about life and your inevitable death can be a good thing, for it can spur you to live with a sense of urgency.  Later in the 19th century, the esteemed novelist Leo Tolstoy had everything a man could want in life, but sustained a profound crisis of meaning.  He was on the verge of suicide when he discovered what he believed made life meaningful: the faith of unlearned, working-class people (O’Brien).  These people lived in humility and kindness, and a deep connection with their passion was enough for Tolstoy to continue living.

            The work of these two men suggests that life may need meaning to be bearable and that the imminence of death can ignite one to live with urgency and purpose.  For Christians, the meaning of one’s life is deeply interwoven with what happens when we die.  As these events are in the future, they fall under eschatology where the four last things—death, judgement, heaven, and hell—are theorized.  Though seemingly daunting, these four last things provide personal and communal hope to the faithful.  Christians are encouraged to desire death because it means union with Christ in some form in the afterlife (CCC, 1010).  A final judgement means that what was done on earth, both the good and the bad, matter, all counting amidst God’s justice (Ryan, 2017).  Lastly, heaven offers promise to those who lived for God while hell helps Christians understand that it’s not too late to take responsibility for their shortcomings (Rausch, 2008).  But if these last four things were merely for the soul, they would be imperfect, for the full expression of a human being is the union of body and soul.  So stands the Christian belief: bodily resurrection enables the continuance of individual identity in a way that a disembodied afterlife couldn’t support.  At the same time, the soma pneumatikon promised in resurrection consoles believers into considering that the suffering endured on earth will be worth it in the end (Rausch, 2008).  Indeed, the resurrection promises to bring humanity to its fullness and make persecution whole.

            For the Christian faithful, death is to be rejoiced in.  Paul’s letter to the Philippians accounts, “For to me life is Christ and death is gain” (Phil. 1:21).  Likewise, St. Theresa of Avila declares, “I want to see God, and in order to see him, I must die” (CCC, 1011).  Death means union with the creator through a resurrection with and in Christ, but this doesn’t mean that life on earth is meaningless.  On the contrary, Christianity holds that earthly existence is a chance to secure eternity with God through righteous living, generous loving, and compassionate stewardship.  If Christians lived with the regular remembrance of why they are living—for the eventual share in the resurrection with Christ—then this belief would have tremendous power.  A global community that honors the goodness of creation, accepts the suffering of life, and applies meaning to daily interaction has the power to change society at large.  This radically improved reality is what belief in resurrection of the body could mean if Christians fully believed it.

            The work of Wright, Aquinas, and a number of other philosophers provides evidence suggesting the bodily resurrection of human beings could happen in the future.  Indeed, if God rose Jesus from the dead then he could raise ordinary humans at the appointed time, too.  I find the evidence presented in this paper to be significant and substantial for belief in bodily resurrection, but not conclusive (no prediction of the future can ever be stated with certainty).  Because this is a future event, it requires belief more than intelligent philosophical reason.  As philosophers of death would conquer, it is acceptable—for the betterment and bearableness of one’s life—to make existential conclusions based on faith once given enough thought.  This is often the only way forward given questions of meaning and death.  Coupled with Wright’s argument for the resurrection of Jesus, faith in the resurrection of the body seems reasonable and helpful, if not comforting.  In the end, belief in bodily resurrection can inspire in one a sense of urgency to live a better life, a personal hope for one’s individual continuance after death, and a deepened appreciation for the goodness of creation.  If Christians around the world came to a consensus on this philosophically sound belief, the power of Christian witness may be enough to bring lasting change to society.

Industrialization & Distance in a Culture of More Food, Faster

This was my final exam essay for my Food in American History course. I reviewed course material and crafted a 1500 word essay about how industrialization of food processes and systems has distanced Americans from their food. This essay may not be for you, but it is if you want to learn about the effects of the industrialization of food. (P.S. I got a 98 🙂

            As the American system of producing, distributing, and consuming food has advanced throughout the country’s history, so too have American perspectives about food.  This global shift can be attributed, in large part, to industrialization.  While new methods of growing and transporting food came out of necessity during wartime, key inventions to accelerate production arose from the capitalist principle of improvement.  Indeed, in time reapers, cans, and chemicals turned the American farm into the American factory, while crop surpluses increased the need for new products and fresh marketing strategies.  Grocery stores changed how food was purchased, automobiles changed the accessibility of restaurants, and the television changed how family dinners were shared.  All the while, the American public was slowly becoming distanced from the food on their tables.  Food that was once grown in backyard gardens and by neighborhood farmers—food that people knew—was progressively phased out by unfamiliar but welcome packaged foods.  As industrialization has produced more food and more opportunity for the country, it has come at the cost an unsustainable, fragile food system that is hidden from the public eye.  To better understand how this shift happened and what can be done to ameliorate it, the gradual changes throughout the American food system should be examined.

            When considering the production of food, there are two major ways that industrialization changed the food supply: advancements on the farm and innovations in the factory.  Since its inception, the United States has had abundant land with rich soil.  To spur the land’s cultivation, Thomas Jefferson’s proposed the ideal of the independent yeoman farmer who could supply for himself and contribute to his community (Class Notes, 2/3/20).  These small farmers working on land grants ignited the early economy; however, the introduction of new, expensive technology steepened the barrier to entry.  The McCormick reaper of the 1830s was the first mechanical advancement, allowing farmers to reap fifteen acres a day instead of two (2/3/20).  This expensive machine—and others like it—created a divide between the industrial farmer and the yeoman farmer.  While prosperous farms flourished, unsuccessful farmers had to find other means of sustenance and purchase their food instead of growing it. 

           Luckily, a surplus of crops like wheat lead to innovations within factories, creating a new sector for jobs.  Flour was now mass-produced at a large mill instead of by small farmers (1/31/20).  At the same time, advancements in food preparation tools and appliances such as the cast iron stove created new opportunities for women cooks.  Making meals and baked goods was now easier but more complicated, so cooking itself became a skill.  While women worked in the kitchen, men were now able to seek out jobs in factories, thereby furthering the Industrial Revolution (1/31/20).  What began as a boom on the farms ignited brand-new avenue for processed food products, thereby creating a market that rapidly expanded the economy.

           This same theme of increased agricultural production followed by the invention of novelty foods appeared again in the beginning of the twentieth century.  Perhaps the most significant agricultural development in history came not from the United States, but Germany.  Working at separate times on the same concept, two German scientists, Fritz Haber and Carl Bosch, discovered a way to turn atmospheric nitrogen into absorbable chemical fertilizer (Pollan, 2004).  The 1909 Haber-Bosch process essentially mechanized the farm, making it a system of inputs and outputs as opposed to a balanced ecology (3/30/20).  Because farmers didn’t have to wait for essential nutrient restoration by fallowing, crop production skyrocketed.  Key chemical companies like Dow and Monsanto entered the fold, furthering the industrialization of American farms (2/19/20).  A greater abundance of crops like wheat, corn, and soy led to the boom in processed food production.  Companies like Heinz, Campbell’s, and Pillsbury grew rapidly because of their investment in continuous process production (2/21/20).  Though an abundance of inexpensive processed foods, widespread hesitancies about adulteration still lingered.  To mitigate these worries, food marketing grew to persuade consumers of the safety and health of processed foods (2/21/20).  In time, these foods became the norm in American society, furthering the distance between farm and table.

           Before further consideration goes into these consumer trends, we must take a step back and look at how industrialization has changed food distribution.  Though early agricultural success fueled 19th century economy, the Civil War changed the course of food history.  To feed Union battlefield soldiers, innovative factories began canning foods, especially meat (2/10/20).  As new packaged, preserved foods fueled soldiers, railroads were being built, extending the distance these foods could travel (2/10/20).  Preserved meat and railroad networks collided when the Chicago Union Stockyard opened in 1865.  Here, live cattle and swine were shipped from across the Midwest to be disassembled and processed (2/19/20).  Live animals were shipped into the stockyard and dressed meat was shipped out.  This furthered the need for refrigeration cars to preserve butchered meat, an invention which would eventually lead to widespread distribution of not only meat but other fresh produce (2/19/20).  These new distribution methods were very successful, increasing the possibilities for agricultural and economic growth.

           Though impressive distribution allowed food to cross state lines, not everybody benefitted.  Local butchers, family grocers, and neighborhood farmers suffered from more affordable processed food prices (2/24/20).  Small operations that couldn’t compete with national brand giants were forced to close.  All the while, though food was becoming more available and affordable, Americans were being further separated from their food supply.  This distance furthered with the introduction of a new way to buy food: the self-service grocery store.  With Piggly Wiggly leading the charge in 1916, chain grocery stores began opening up throughout the United States (3/2/20).  These self-service stores were “Progressive;” no longer would clerks do the shopping, but customers were now able to choose between products by comparison shopping (3/2/20).  As the aforementioned national brands competed with store brands, price became a crucial factor to buying behaviors.  Local farmers couldn’t compete with grocery store prices, and affordability outweighed quality.  Food became more accessible than ever before, though at a cost.  Factory farms were producing more food than ever but with great impacts to the surrounding environment and the health of animals (3/30/20).  Consciousness of this didn’t reach the public until much later.  In fast-paced America, it was about more food being more available at a more affordable price.

           Lastly the changing attitudes around food consumption must be explored.  To be brief, the greatest change here was the progressive shift from family meals to “fast” food.  The consumption of meals in the 19th century was largely centered around the dinner table.  Generally speaking, while men worked in factories, women stayed at home.  When the man returned from work, the family would unite with an intentionally prepared family dinner (1/31/20).  Gradually over the next century, industrialization fragmented the dinner table, favoring convenience over home-cooked meals.  The automobile boom synchronized with the emergence of fast food restaurants, making “eating out” a norm for Americans (3/27/20).  Successful franchises like McDonald’s and White Castle worked to accelerate this shift.  Simultaneously, frozen dinners entered the fold, furthering the ideal of convenience over complicated meals (Hamilton, 2003).  Adding fuel to the fast-paced fire, the explosion of television in the late 20th century brought about TV dinners, a development which further split the dinner table (Buford, 2006).  In recent years, services like Uber Eats and Door Dash further antiquate cooking and family meals.  These changes make the overall trend evident: the more Americans buy into convenient arrangements that support the Industrial Food system, the less Americans care about where their food comes from.

           Due to the industrialization of food production, distribution, and consumption patterns over the past 200 years, American society has lost touch with its food.  That is, until recently. The COVID-19 pandemic has shed light on just how fragile our supply chain.  For the first time in recent memory, our collective society is thinking about the origins and implications of the food we buy at the store.  This is a good thing.  And this is why food history matters. 

           Without knowing how we got here, it’s impossible to know where we should go in the future.  For instance, knowing how meatpacking operations began in the 1860s can shed light on the importance of supporting local farms to bolster food security.  Likewise, understanding that frozen foods are a recent phenomenon can spur people to plan for what may happen if nationwide distribution networks shut down (i.e. learning how to grow food may be a helpful skill).  If we use this moment of national crisis to educate ourselves about where our food comes from, perhaps we can reconnect with the land we have been separated from.  The benefits would be a more sustainable agricultural system, a more stable distribution network, and a greater awareness of who is affected by our buying decisions.  This can be the moment that reconnects us with our food.  This can be the next phase in American food history, that is, if we’re willing to change.