Robert Farrar Capon was a lifelong New Yorker and served for almost 30 years as a parish priest in the Episcopal Church. His first book, Bed and Board, was published in 1965 and by 1977 left full-time ministry to devote more time to writing books, though he continued to serve the church in various capacities such as assisting priest and Canon Theologian. He has written twenty books on theology, cooking and family life.
His lifelong interest in food intersected with his writing and led to his becoming food columnist for Newsday and The New York Times and also teaching cooking classes.
A wonderfully provocative little book. Reader beware: you'll be offended at some point. Capon attempts to show that at the heart of our search for romance, money, and well-being is religion, works-rightness. Capon says, "Religion is the attempt on the part of human beings to establish a right relationship between themselves and something outside themselves--something they think to be of life-shaping importance." All religions (in Capon's sense of the word) involve a creed, cultic practices, and patterns of conduct--the Three C's.
As Capon argues, Christianity is the exact opposite. St. Paul's job description was to knock religion over the head. Religion is irrational because it seeks to live in a parallel universe where control can be achieved. But reality is the product of Holy Luck, the result of the marriage bed of the Trinity.
Okay, so Capon is provocative. Most people in my circles would gag and leave this book alone after the first chapter. There were points where Capon went over the top, but still, this was a fun read that offered some unique insights into three idols of our time and why they don't offer the Joy they promise.
Oh, Capon. Here's one of my favorite sections from this book that shows Capon at the top of his game:
"The human race is at least as religious about what it eats as it is about anything else; and there is probably no topic on which children are given more catechetical lectures than on diet. Think of the credal structures we constantly erect around their eating habits: chicken soup cures colds; spinach makes you strong; leaving Brussels sprouts on your plate hurts children in Africa; and of course, salt will kill you, butter is bad for you, vegetables are better than meat, and fish will make you smart. But it isn't just that the idiotic content of the catechism corrupts them; it's that they themselves, quite apart from any specific indoctrination, are more than ready to be indoctrinated. If they are not taught religions about food, they will invent them." (83)
In another chapter he says that "the net result of the religions of food is noncooking, nondining, and nonliving." (162)
Very mixed. Sometimes brilliant, often not, and other times downright confusing. "The Supper of the Lamb" book first lead me to Capon's work, but his other books are, like this one, of variable quality. Having said that, his definition of religion is extremely insightful, especially the way this works through into our approach our health, money and love.
Robert Capon left us a stimulating set of works written in an imaginative slapdash style that makes theology great fun to read and yet also gives us material for quite a lot of serious thought. The most intriguing thing about this book is the contrast he draws between religion and Gospel. Religion is sort of like magic, seeking techniques to get us what he want and keep things the way we want them. Capon says all that is a parallel world of pure fantasy, Gospel is grace -- matter of free gifts from God. Capon, then, explores the idolatry we commit through money, love and health but with a difference. It's the attempts to make religions with their own little "liturgies" that is idolatry. It's sort of a backdoor way of making these things more important than God. Recommended.
The last book I borrowed from a friend no longer with me. A bittersweet read, dreaded arriving at the last page, did not fully follow or agree with everything Capon wrote here but loved every word and the memories and imaginary conversations I was able to have with Greg along the way. Miss you friend.