Katie Sturm and her husband have lived in California and Ireland and are now preparing for the next season of their journey, traveling throughout the United States. She has studied interfaith dialogue, spirituality and theology and remains active in ministries focused on healing and wholeness. Katie enjoys writing, cooking, making music, and encouraging others to pursue their dreams. Her recent writing appears on The Whispered Life, and she is active on social media where she shares reflections on faith, food and sustainable living.
I remember, dimly, the first time I heard Andrew speak about ethical eating. I was about fourteen — full of the usual teenage rebellion and convinced I could eat whatever I liked. A decade later, though, life pushed me to pay attention. One of my closest friends was an Orthodox Jew, and dining out with them meant learning to think about food differently: where it came from and how it was prepared. I still indulged occasionally in a cheeseburger at home, but the habit of paying attention to what I ate began to follow me.
For most of my early life, eating felt simple. I was a Christian raised with a strong sense of spiritual liberty: the freedom in Christ to eat and do as I pleased. Acts and the accounts of Peter’s experiences seemed to affirm that food itself wasn’t morally charged. Jesus taught that what proceeds from the heart is more important than what goes into the mouth, which made it easy to dismiss concerns about diet as matters of conscience rather than of responsibility.
Another influence shaped me: an apocalyptic view that saw the world as temporary and on the brink of final events. That perspective encouraged an urgency that prioritized saving souls and preparing for revival over caring for creation. Environmental concerns felt, to many of us, like a distraction from the mission. We consumed without much thought for sustainability, assuming the end was near and that stewardship was secondary to evangelism.
That changed when I became involved in interfaith dialogue and began spending time with communities that observe dietary restrictions. I also explored ancient Christian practices of fasting and feasting. One Lent I decided, with guidance from friends and teachers, to observe the season by eating according to kosher principles and to study eco-kashrut and related ethical questions. The experiment reshaped my habits.
I learned quickly how difficult it is to trace the origins and production methods of many supermarket foods. Ingredient lists can look wholesome while obscuring industrial practices, animal welfare issues, or environmental impacts. The more I tried to know my food, the more I relied on local, organic produce and whole foods prepared from scratch. As someone who loves dairy, I found vegetarian dishes satisfying, and eating meat only once or twice a week felt both manageable and more meaningful. I also learned about the significant environmental cost of industrial meat production and the heavy resource demands of a beef-centered diet. Those facts nudged me toward a more conscientious approach to eating that has stayed with me.
Within my own evangelical Christian community we are beginning to relearn disciplines embedded in our tradition. Reading the New Testament closely reveals writers who were attentive to bodily practice, communal meals, and symbolic food language. Our theological framework teaches that our bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit; if that is true, it makes sense to wonder what we offer those bodies. The story of the Fall is rooted in an act of eating, and Jesus’ image of himself as the Bread of Life or the Vine places food at the center of metaphor and practice. Communion is a communal meal that carries moral and spiritual weight — Paul warns against taking it thoughtlessly. When we envision the eschatological future as a great celebratory feast, rather than simply doom and judgment, caring about how we eat fits naturally into our faith story.
Paul writes in Romans that all creation waits for the children of God to be revealed and for the glory that will restore what has fallen into decay. If Christians are indeed heirs of that restoration, our calling includes tending creation, not merely rescuing human souls. Celtic spiritual writers long ago called the earth “Sister Earth,” urging reverence and careful care. Living faithfully, then, means inviting the whole of creation into the story of redemption.
As October Unprocessed or any season of intentional eating prompts you to reflect on food choices, consider how small changes can participate in a larger hope. Choosing local and seasonal produce, reducing reliance on industrially processed foods, and limiting meat consumption are practical steps that align personal health with environmental stewardship. These choices are not merely private matters: they contribute to communal well-being and to a vision of the gospel that cares for both people and planet. Your food decisions can be a humble but concrete part of bringing healing and restoration to the world.
Corn & Black Bean Chowder
Ingredients
- 3 cups Vegetable Stock
- 12 oz. Black Beans, pre-soaked
- 12 oz. Corn
- 12 oz. Tomatoes
- 1 Green Bell Pepper, diced
- 1 Red Bell Pepper, diced
- 1 small White Onion, diced
- 1 small Red Onion, diced
- 3 stalks Celery, diced
- 2 Carrots, diced
- 3 cloves Garlic, minced
- 1 tablespoon dried Oregano
- 1 teaspoon ground Mustard Powder
- 1 teaspoon ground Fenugreek
- 1 ounce crushed Fresh Basil
- Salt and Pepper to taste
- 1–2 tablespoons Olive Oil
Instructions
- Chop all vegetables in advance. Dice them rather than mincing; garlic should be minced or pressed into a paste.
- In a large pot, heat the olive oil and sauté the onion, celery, and carrot until tender and the onions turn translucent. Add the green and red bell peppers and continue cooking until softened.
- Add the garlic and season with a pinch of salt and pepper. Stir briefly to release the garlic aroma without burning it.
- Stir in the tomatoes, corn, black beans, oregano, mustard powder, and fenugreek. Combine gently so the ingredients are evenly distributed.
- If using a crock pot: transfer the mixture to the slow cooker, add the vegetable stock, and cook on medium-high for 20 minutes, then lower to low and simmer for as long as needed until flavors meld.
- If cooking on the stove: add the vegetable stock and bring the mixture to a boil. Stir for about 5 minutes, then reduce heat to a simmer and cook until the vegetables are very tender, nearly falling apart.
- About 10 minutes before serving, remove roughly one-third of the soup, blend it until smooth, and return it to the pot. Stir in the crushed fresh basil and adjust salt and pepper to taste. Serve hot, garnished as desired.
Nutrition
Carbohydrates: 37 g,
Protein: 8 g,
Fat: 4 g,
Sodium: 507 mg,
Potassium: 727 mg,
Fiber: 10 g,
Sugar: 8 g,
Vitamin A: 5345 IU,
Vitamin C: 56.2 mg,
Calcium: 92 mg,
Iron: 3.2 mg
Stained glass photo by Lawrence OP.