Tastes of Homeland

"Uh, Glenn, I bet those noodles must be very good.  Just look at the line of people over there!"

My friend Willis and I marveled at the crowd in front of the noodle stand as we strolled along a popular shopping area in Taipei, Taiwan.  I happened to be in Taipei for a conference, and made it a priority to visit Willis, his wife Jocelyn, and daughter Phoebe on my first day there.  Jocelyn and Phoebe were going to meet us later in the evening, and Willis suggested that we first scout out the area for good places to eat.  Willis was clearly drawn in by the smell of boiled pig intestines, vinegar, lard-fried shallots and pungent ground white peppercorns that saturated the crowded standing-room only area (i.e., the street - there was no chair in sight).  The stuff was not for the faint of stomach, but for someone like me who spent his formative years in Taiwan, this was supposed to be food heaven.

Unfortunately, I was a bit weak in the gut, having recently endured a 15-hour flight from Los Angeles, a midnight hotel check-in and an 8-hour jet lag.  Moments later I stood with Willis and his family as they happily slurped down gloppy, heavily seasoned bowls of thin rice noodle soup with pig intestines while I slowly consumed my own bowl of the concoction, trying my best to hide my nausea and bloating.  The trip to Taiwan wasn't quite off to a good start.

It took a couple more days before my innards became well adjusted to being in Taiwan, and once that happened I was on a gustatory mission to make up for lost time.  I ate everywhere - in food courts underneath train stations and department stores, at roadside stands, and in night markets.  I ran two hours every morning to burn off some calories so that I could eat some more.  Pig intestines?  Bring it on.  I was hungering for good old hometown cuisine, and there wasn't a lot of time.

The following Sunday morning I joined Willis, Jocelyn and a few other friends for worship at a local church in Taipei.  As the service began, a pastor led us in prayer for the service, the worship leaders, the speaker, the message, and for our hearts to be receptive to God's word.  The worship leader and musicians led us in several songs of praise to God.  The pastor then led the congregation in responsive reading of the Bible verses for the day, and the senior pastor gave an expository sermon from the book of Hebrews.  As I participated in the service, I was awash in joy and gratitude, and a hint of tears appeared in my eyes.  The week of eating, running, meeting with friends and relatives, attending the conference, and shopping for friends and family back home left me with little time to spend with God, and by the end of the week I was spiritually parched and starving.  For those of us who claim to worship God and call on Jesus as both Lord and Savior, time spent at a worship service should be like having a taste of home cooking, since our citizenship is in heaven.  We hunger and thirst for that which only God can satisfy.

As a deer pants for flowing streams,
so pants my soul for you, O God.  (Psalm 42:1)

After the service, my friends and I met at Willis and Jocelyn's apartment, where we eagerly engulfed a mountain of food purchased from the various street vendors we encountered on the way back from church.  The feasting continued.