The twins would say an entire homily before a meal. Every single meal would get cold on our plates and the hot coffee would lose its steam before we could say Amen and eat. But this only happened when they were back home. I don’t know how their parish in Taiwan fared at breakfast, lunch and dinner. When we gathered together as a family, our blessings for the year were replete.

Peter would start the blessing, or maybe it was Paul. I always had a tough time telling them apart. One did have eyebrows that curled off their brow, poised like waves about to crash down on their cheekbones. I just couldn’t remember which one, so it never helped. One of them would start the blessing and the other would chime in when it appeared we were nearly finished and carry his brother’s theme along for a few minutes more. We never received even one mite less of a blessing than they believed we needed. They would regularly include verses from both the old testament and the new, with smatterings of latin spread throughout. I would sit with my hands clasped and my head bowed reminding myself that if my stomach growled it wasn’t my fault. My stomach always growled.

Their younger brother, Thomas, would have none of it and would come to the meal on his own terms. That usually meant he arrived late. Thomas, after seeing the pressure the church exerted on his brothers to be ordained, decided that he would have no such tyranny in his life and publicly declared his disbelief. (No, I am not making this up. He never did cease doubting) The rest of us weren’t so sure we wanted to disavow it all just then.

Most of the family said Grace before each meal. They kept it not too short and not too long, with everyone reciting their thanks together. They would pray out loud at the home table but quietly bow their heads when in public. I preferred the shorter Grace and over the years, while I still gave thanks, the prayer has gotten more succinct. It has been reduced to a silent ‘thank you for this food’ and a short bob of my head.

I understood that my cousins were Maryknoll Fathers and that it was their job to pray and to teach about God. But I will avoid long, public prayer before a meal, or anywhere really. Saying Thank you is a fine thing. Making every meal wait on a sermon is not something I would choose to do. Watching how Thomas chose guaranteed cold food over prayer taught me that subjecting others to our religious observances before they are allowed to eat is a terrible imposition that won’t create a better world.

Matthew 6:⁶ But thou when thou shalt pray, enter into thy chamber, and having shut the door, pray to thy Father in secret: and thy Father who seeth in secret will repay thee.