n most households of any particular religious background, before eating members of the family will gather to say a short prayer both of thanksgiving and invocation. Many U.S. households refer to this particular dining ritual as "grace."

Growing up, I anticipated grace very fondly, especially when the extended family came together for special holidays or marriages and the like. At my grandparents' house nothing at all would move — not even a napkin to your lap — until grace had been delivered and the final benediction, the ubiquitous "Amen," (to which today I often catch myself appending a whispered, mischievous "Ra") was pronounced over the food by the entire family. Grace was also a time of amusement at Grandma and Granpa Myers'.

"Frank, don't you dare taste that roast, we haven't said grace yet," Grandma Halo would say, looking sternly at Granpa mischievously poking at the main dish. Of course, his response would be to look up at her with all seriousness except for a little gleam of amusement in his eye and say very loudly, "Grace!"

Then he would pick at the food and usually get swatted at. But a family member would be chosen, words would be said to thank God for the food and for the gathering of the family, and to ask for God's blessing and intercession over any family issues, and then Amen and then passing the plates...a ritual if ever there was one.

Since people in antiquity ate, and since we still eat now, both alone and in company with others, we still have need of God's presence in every facet of our lives, including eating. So we are still in need of "grace" — and more than just Granpa's one word pronouncement to get out of waiting for delicious food!

I engaged in some research, and I found several different versions of ancient Egyptian table grace, including one that, if spoken, takes nearly an hour (not so great if you like your food warm), and one that takes about 20 minutes (still not so great). Finally I remembered the most beautiful form of grace a Kemetic Orthodox knows, the short formula spoken over offerings right before they are presented to the gods and goddesses in Their shrines. One holds out their hands as if preparing to receive something — because you are — and says:

In Kemetic:
hotep Netjer em shabu en imenti her iabi
(ho-TEP net-JUR em shaBU en ih-MENTI hair ya-BI)


Or, in English:
May Netjer be satisfied with the repast to the right and to the left.

Immediately after this pronouncement the spirit of Netjer descends upon the food, partakes of its spiritual substance, and makes the food holy, to be shared with all who were part of the ritual. It is a profound moment in most of our Kemetic Orthodox rituals, and one which I know I look forward to as much as Granpa Frank lusted after Grandma Halo's roast; the moment that you know the food is sacred and can now become part of your own sacredness.

This "short grace" has become a daily part of Kemetic Orthodox spiritual life. I have seen Shemsu, Remetj and priests pronounce it over food while involved in temple-related work as well as to themselves, whispered or said silently while holding the hands out, over fast food on the way back to work. I have shared it with anyone interested in eating with God, and now I share it with you and invite you to share it with your families. Grace is not just a word. It's time to communicate with God while engaging in one of the things all humans share as a daily bodily requirement. It's time to eat with God.

Dua-Netjer — may Netjer be praised. Now let's eat!