Meal Preparation

Meal preparation can be a delight; but for most of us, most of the time, it is more like drudgery. This conflict between drudgery and delight lies at the heart of the Mary-Martha story (Luke 10:38-42). Martha’s preparations for Jesus’ visit weren’t the real problem—a look at the wording is revealing: “Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made” (emphasis added). It is clear that Martha opened her home to Jesus with the strength of frenetic, hard work—but not with her heart, soul and mind as did her sister, Mary, who listened. Thus her necessary preparations were all drudgery and no delight.

The Meaning of the Mundane

In the busyness of preparing our meals, we need to see the meaning in the mundane, the delight beyond the drudgery. We do not merely prepare feedings (as if for animals). The simplest meal, even when we are alone, can be a communion with God through his creation—which is why we say grace before we eat. To gather foods from garden or orchard is to be reminded of the richness and diversity of creation; God said, “Everything that lives and moves will be food for you” (Genesis 9:3). Likewise the peeling, chopping and slicing of vegetables, the testing and tasting of sauces, the kneading and shaping of breads are both labor and a means of loving. Meals can sustain both body and soul, and can with care be celebrations of all that it means to be a human being made in the image of God. This transformation, through loving preparation, of “feeding” into a meal becomes a way to love God with all our heart, soul, mind and strength.

Jesus himself not only affirmed the meaning of meals but was concerned with their preparation. His first miracle was “preparing” extra wine for a wedding. One time he broke bread and fish for four thousand people—another time for five thousand (and he saved the leftovers too). On his last evening with the disciples before his death, Jesus arranged the details and broke the bread for the Passover meal. And one of his last recorded acts after the resurrection was making a simple seaside meal of roasted fish and some bread: “Come and have breakfast,” he said to his friends, after their hard night’s work (John 21:12). Thus our meal preparations are hallowed by Jesus’ example.

The Ministry of Hospitality

But in North America, according to recent studies, we increasingly avoid the whole bother of meal preparation by “eating out.” More and more we rely on restaurants for “special” meals not only for ourselves but also for a relief from the pressure of home hospitality. Sometimes this substitute is a necessary means of coping with a busy schedule. But we should look with critical eyes at the busyness in our lives that keeps us from preparing meals for family and friends. We would do well to remember Jesus’ example and the biblical maxim to “practice hospitality” (Romans 12:13). Preparing meals is part of a larger pattern of opening our home life to others. Giving up meal preparation can be a danger signal of Martha-living versus Mary-listening.

Part of the problem may be that we’ve so increased our expectations of how the house ought to look and what we ought to serve and how very perfect everything—including ourselves—should be that we’ve lost sight of the whole point of preparing a meal. A way back is to remember the beautiful phrase from Psalm 23: “You prepare a table before me.” God creates a place for us always—no matter what is going on or who is around (“in the presence of my enemies”).

We can learn much about this ability to “prepare a table” from other traditions. A young German woman, when asked if she doesn’t feel tired and left out when she spends long hours in the kitchen preparing a traditional German Christmas dinner, replies, “I’ve been taught that preparing a beautiful meal for friends is a way of loving them; I think about them and their joy in my meal while I cook.” A Jewish mother as a matter of tradition prays for the members of her family, kneading love into the loaves as she makes her sabbath challah bread. The Mennonite cookbook Extending the Table abounds with stories of meals from all over the world—meal preparations that begin automatically, whenever a guest arrives. Such preparations ring with the thoroughness of celebration over the prodigal son in Jesus’ story. Whether strangers or strayed sons, all who come to our home should be welcomed with some token of the fatted calf—exuberance with which that father welcomed his son.

Despite these principles of hospitality—which we would all affirm—sometimes it’s hard to rationalize the time it takes to make meals over and over, day in, day out. At such times we might find it helpful to take a slightly different approach to help us recover the joy of preparing and serving meals in the midst of all the work. Here are a few suggestions:

Make food from scratch. It’s usually better that way, and has more of your own love in it. But a good meal from basic ingredients need not be a complicated, multicourse extravagance. Soup and warm bread or biscuits can be deeply satisfying and mean only two preparations, a simple place setting and a minimum of up-and-down from the table after serving. Such a meal focuses attention on the daily bread of sustenance and on the enjoyment of the meal together.

Cook from ingredients obtained directly from their source. The plants and animals which produce our food are God’s creations, not just raw material. Whether the ingredients be from our own garden or a farmer’s market, knowing where our food comes from helps us to appreciate both those other creations and the kind of husbandry that brings them to our table. Our urban culture often traps us as unknowing participants in patterns of agriculture that we would deplore if we knew about them. Checking out the sources of our food and buying from farmers who care about the creatures they grow for us can shift us, and our whole society, toward patterns of life that are more responsible to creation and Creator.

Serve with creativity. Any meal—even toast and tea—gains elegance and a great deal of spiritual and emotional flavor from the way it is served. A tablecloth and folded cloth napkins, wood or pottery serving bowls (or even shells for jam or a sauce), candles—any one of these can transform a simple meal into a statement: “We love you; we care for you; we want this meal to be a special time for you.”

Prepare a meal with friends. If the prospect of making a complicated meal seems overwhelming, one wonderful solution is to cook it together with our guests. When we work alongside friends to accomplish a goal—such as making a casserole or a pie—often the getting-to-know-each-other part of the meal is made easy. When our hands and bodies are busy, our souls can relax from the social pressure to say the right bright thing.

Celebrate the Lord’s Supper in the context of a real meal. All meals have been hallowed by the meal of bread and wine that Jesus gave to his disciples as a pattern of remembering for all believers. Usually our Communion meal is a pale wafer-and-sip substitute for the richly meaningful complete meal, the Seder supper, that is the ancient Hebrew origin of the Christian Eucharist. Placing Communion in the midst of that meal—or any meal—is a way of restoring community to Christian Communion.

In 2 Kings, a war was averted when the king of Israel, at Elisha’s command, prepared a great feast and served it to the raiding bands from Aran. Our meals may not stop wars, but they may be one of the best ways to bring family members, friends and churches together.

» See also: Eating

» See also: Homemaking

» See also: Hospitality

References and Resources

R. F. Capon, Supper of the Lamb (New York: Harvest Books/Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1969); A. Schmemann, For the Life of the World (Crestwood, N.Y.: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1982); J. Handrich Schlabach, Extending the Table (Scottdale, Penn.: Herald Press, 1991); M. Zimmerman, Celebrate the Feasts (Minneapolis: Bethany House, 1981).

—Mary Ruth Wilkinson