Food invites conversation. As an opening appetizer to discussions of food and faith, some simple, open-ended questions can be helpful. For instance, what are your earliest food memories? Are they happy or tinged with sadness? Who are the people in those memories, and are you still able to see them?
Allow yourself to linger in those memories. Perhaps you fondly remember grandparents or neighbors who insisted that you never leave the table hungry. With a zest for serving you, they filled the air with warm choruses of “eat, eat!” Even though you might not have learned their recipes, you probably learned enduring values at those tables: the feeling of being loved and cared for, the challenge of preparing food that is both budget friendly and delicious, the joy of conversation around a table, the delightful smells of a kitchen, and the shared work of clearing plates and cleaning up.
What memories make you smile for joy at the love and nourishment you received with others? These holy memories stay with us. Although we cannot recreate the past, we can honor those good times by considering how to foster rich experiences with the people around us today, revisiting recipes, rituals, and flavors in new settings. Many of us have also experienced challenging food-related circumstances, including times of hunger, scarcity, hard memories, or tricky relationships with food. These moments stay with us and shape us as well. We can engage these moments in trusted conversation with caring friends, trained counselors, and with ourselves as we consider our own ways of thinking about food and being present at God’s abundant table. God is with us in our joyful food memories and experiences, and God is with us in our painful ones, too. While this book cannot erase the challenges that exist around food and eating, the following chapters invite reflection and conversation that may support renewed ways of relating to food. When potentially painful food memories and present experiences with food arise, this book invites you to cultivate trust that God truly desires your well-being and is with you in every moment. As you read and reflect, may you feel warmly invited to bring your full self to God’s table. You are welcome here.
Having paused from reading to remember important experiences that happened around food, allow yourself to shift into the theological side of food theology. Take time to recollect your earliest memories about food and faith. If you grew up in a church community, you might recall jostling the other kids to be first in line for the potluck. Maybe some adult watched the struggle to be first and quoted Jesus’s words, “Remember, kids: ‘the last will be first, and the first will be last,’”9 which then led to an ironic scramble to be last (and therefore first!). Maybe you remember not wanting to be there, but you were forced to join in anyway. Maybe you remember all things seeming right in your world as adults talked slowly over their bitter coffee and the children left behind sloppy puddles of milk, lemonade, and fruit punch. What were your favorite foods at those gatherings? Maybe it was fried chicken, mashed potatoes, baked beans, or brownies. What about your least favorite foods? Maybe it was vinegary potato salad, Jello molds with chunks of fruit in them, or mushy vegetables. How did you feel when those were put on your plate, and how did you sidestep eating them? How did you join the groups that were eating, or did you feel like there wasn’t a place for you at a table?
Maybe you came to know a church community later in life. What was that like? Perhaps something about the tasteful cheese and crackers matched the warm conversation you were having as you suddenly and surprisingly found yourself making a new friend. Some light chitchat over a donut and coffee might have been just enough to make you think it could be worth coming back to worship at this church again. Maybe a meal you shared in a church basement both met a need in your stomach and fed a hunger for having people to eat with.
Through the many memories you have about food, see how you can connect faces, flavors, and feelings: Grandma’s meatballs and feeling loved; the kids’ table at church and the smell of homemade macaroni and cheese; the warmth of soup and singing a table blessing together. Pay attention to the times you felt struggle and challenge around the table and reflect on what was missing in those moments. These memories are valuable steps in connecting food and faith more intentionally. If you are reading this book on your own, you might make some notes in the margins or back pages for future reference. If you are reading this book in a group, questions like these can lead to rich conversations. Be sure to give everyone who would like to a chance to share their story.
