The older I get, the more I crave a practical spirituality – one tied to dirty dishes not pristine libraries, one that recognizes hungry bellies along with hungry hearts. Some days, talking theology feels beside the point. We are living it as we match mittens and pack snacks. We pray as we start t he car, and zoom! Off we go, bringing the light of Christ to our meetings and tournaments. Last year I interviewed Mark Berchem, founder of NET Ministries, the Catholic evangelization center he launched 44 years ago. Upon his retirement, I asked about his winning approach to the apostolate. “None of us had any theological training,” he told me. “All we had was our real-life experience: ‘This is what God has done in my life. I know God is real. He wants to be real in your life, too!’” Over time, Mark came to embrace that. “Somebody once told me: ‘If it’s not practical, it’s probably not spiritual,’” he said. “The integration of faith and life is what happens at NET.” That statement stuck with me. God wants to meet us in the here and now, the knotted shoelaces and jammed zippers, the dash to the gas station, the smile from the cashier. He loves us through the minutiae of daily life. That’s why, for me, I hesitate to draw the line between cookbook and prayerbook. When I’m holding a collection of tried-and-true recipes, it can feel like much more. This year, my mother-in-law gave us a treasure: a beloved parish cookbook. Titled “Our Favorite Recipes,” it was created by members of St. Patrick Church in Ryan, Iowa – a tiny town named after a priest, Father Patrick Ryan. Its palette is cream and cinnamon: yellowed pages, brown spiral binding, a sepia-toned photograph of the church. It begins with the Kitchen Prayer: “Lord of all pots and pans and things, since I’ve not time to be a saint by doing lovely things or watching late with Thee or dreaming in the dawn light or storming Heaven’s gates, make me a saint by getting meals and washing up the plates.” The prayer concludes: “Warm all the kitchen with Thy love and light it with Thy peace. Forgive me all my worrying and make my grumbling cease. Thou who didst love to give men food, in room and by the sea, accept this service that I do, I do it unto Thee.” The pickles and jams and rolls follow, with cookies outnumbering casseroles by a ratio of 10 to 1 and dozens of pies rounding out the desserts. It was a fundraiser for their beloved house of worship, completed through late nights and phone calls, wrapped in prayer and dusted with flour. The practical in the spiritual. Follow these steps, feed these people, offer it up.  Emily Stimpson Chapman’s new cookbook does the same. “Around the Catholic Table” from Emmaus Road Publishing combines heartfelt essays with delicious recipes, wrapping stories around each one: a beloved rigatoni, a hearty vegetable beef soup, a carrot and ginger soup that can brighten “the greyest February days.” The cookbook is peppered with Chapman’s beliefs both as a Catholic and a cook. “I am a firm believer that if you top a fruit crisp with yogurt instead of ice cream, it is a breakfast food, not a dessert,” writes the 50-year-old mom of three from Steubenville, Ohio. In her final essay, Chapman explores the deeper meaning of cooking for her family. “I believe that when they eat what I’ve made, my mind, my heart, my strength, my energy, my creativity, and my tenacity in some mysterious way become theirs, too,” she writes. “In the kitchen, I have found intimacy with Christ, who gives His life to us in the form of food.” Practical and spiritual. Sustenance for a long Tuesday – and a foretaste of heaven. Christina Capecchi is a freelance writer from Grey Cloud Island, Minnesota. The post Stovetop Spirituality  appeared first on Today's Catholic. ...read more read less