My mom learned how to cook as a young housewife, but over the years became a cook with good skill towards simple, filling meals. Nothing fancy or complicated, mom served up chili, red or green, a big pot of spaghetti, or hamburgers with routine and skill. We ate together every evening for dinner. Other kids in our community, like my sister's boyfriend or my best friend, frequently joined our family dinner. Our extended family would join us whenever they came to town. We'd also gather around Grandma Mattie's table for dinner when we were visiting her. In fact, no matter how old Grandma got, she always greeted visitors in the most hospitable way possible- asking if they were hungry and sharing whatever she had in her pantry, no matter how meagre.
My family eats dinner together as well. Of all the other omissions or challenges of modern parental life, I cling to this practice whole-heartedly. Eating together is one true good I am able to provide my family every day, with my husband's brilliant cooking serving as the fare.
In today's Gospel, a risen Jesus accompanied two apostles on the road. They don't recognize him, but we are told, he was known to them in the breaking of the bread. Even if you aren't a follower of Christ, we can still see the way that this happens in our own relationships. We learn about people, they reveal themselves, through the breaking of the bread. Sharing foods helps us know more about one another. Perhaps we have a conversation with our grandma as she shares a family recipe taking us back through time as we hear about her early life. We might share a meal with our own kids in which we talk about big, important things or small, trivial ones. Or perhaps, you can picture your first date, where you learned something significant about your future spouse.
Community gatherings can go a long way to healing our culture. Every day, loneliness and isolation hurts people in our society. We have a Pandemic of Despair trashing our lives. These problems hurt the soul and can madden the spirit. What if we had a meal together where we'd talk about our troubles? What if instead of imbibing in ideology and culture war tactics, we sat and ate and asked questions and listened? Our community in Granby Jones has had success in this type of gathering, in large part in due to my dear friend and neighbor's welcoming ways. At our parish, we've been intentional about making more space and time to share meals together and it's something I've really cherished, as well.
When we're free to really talk and listen, without the self censoring more frequently required in ordinary superficial interactions, we can go a long way towards understanding each other and, likewise, valuing one another. Going deeper, being more vulnerable and genuine, makes one more satisfied in our relationships as well. We also tend to be more peaceful in our own soul.
Last of all, I'd like to remind you that we all need a spot at the table. Jesus calls all people to have a seat at His table; as a follower of Christ, I should aspire to no less.
What memories of good meals and fellowship do you have? Have you tried to maintain or regain this type of meal? If you could dine with people of a different culture or mindset, would you embrace the opportunity?
