Sunday, 22 April 2012
This morning in kirk as the Gospel was being read [Luke 24: 36-48] the following verse managed to gently distract me from higher thoughts:
42They gave him a piece of broiled fish, 43and he took it and ate in their presence.
'Broiled fish', I wondered.
What on earth is 'broiled' fish?
I'd heard the term for years - every time that particular reading had come around the lectionary cycle once again - and it struck me that I actually hadn't a clue what it meant.
And so my tiny mind began to play around with cookery terminology, racking brain to remind self of what broiling involved.
The sermon drifted in and out of my consciousness...at times, I nodded in agreement with points made, such as our peculiar church language and how, outwith the kirk, folk would probably scratch their heads wondering what such and such a term meant. I confess, I immediately thought of the term 'intimations' - not as potentially exciting or lurid as might at first seem. But then my thoughts snaked back to the wretched word 'broiled', with no defining joy in sight. It's not as if I had never seen the word before, but today, for some bizarre reason, it just stood out and vexed my wee mind.
Now at home, I have just looked it up.
Apparently it's what our American friends over the Pond mean by grilling.
So... Jesus ate a piece of grilled fish.
Further Messianic/scriptural validation for barbecues, thought I.
And so, with that scintillatingly deep spiritual insight, my mind is at rest once more.