Editorial: Summer 2009 issue
In the 1970s the Mennonite Church sponsored several cross-cultural youth conventions. Ethnic meals were served to help create greater appreciation between the African-American, Mexican, Puerto Rican, Native American, and Anglo groups present.
Unfortunately, the meals were prepared by the cafeteria staff, and they were not accustomed to preparing ethnic foods. The youth began to grumble and even say nasty things about the foods of other ethnic groups, or complain loudly that their own food was not made properly. Tension built to the point the convention leaders feared things might come to blows. It wasn’t just the taste of the food that was at stake; cultural identity and pride were on the line.
We are in some sense what we eat. The kinds of food we eat, how it is prepared and served, where we eat it, and with whom we share it reveals much about us as a people. Even families have distinctive meals that set them apart from others in their own cultural group.
Food is also a means of hospitality. By sharing our food with someone else, we welcome them into our midst and give them a part of ourselves. And when we are on the receiving end as guests of another, we make ourselves vulnerable to them—to the kind of food they eat, how they eat it, and what it means to them.
Last November I was a guest of a Palestinian Christian family in Nazareth, Israel for a Sunday dinner. They live atop one of the hills of the city, looking down on the old part of Nazareth, Jesus’ home town. The experience was a marvelous demonstration of Middle Eastern hospitality: the extended family—four generations in all—was present to welcome me and several other North Americans.
Jesus used his role as guest to serve as host of the capacious love and welcome of God.
When we sat down to eat we were offered hard liquor. I politely declined. Then, while we were eating, the host women kept piling more food on our plates to the point of making our waist lines bulge. How could we politely say “enough already”?
We may be more blessed in giving than receiving, but when it comes to hospitality the role of giver is more comfortable than that of receiver. The one offering hospitality is more in control of the situation than the guest is. When you’re the host you can prepare food you like. When you’re the guest you may be forced to eat something that doesn’t suit your palette.
Jesus was frequently dependent upon the welcome of others, and when he was invited into the homes of others he joyfully received what was offered to him. Yet, as theologian Amos Yong, in Hospitality and The Other, states, as guest Jesus offered to others the hospitality of God. In other words, Jesus used his role as guest to serve as host of the capacious love and welcome of God. Eating together has been characteristic of the church from the beginning (Acts 2:46); but eating together as a church was also a source of contention, as it led to forming cliques in the Corinthian church (1 Cor 11:17-22). Indeed, serving food in the church is a tricky thing. We’re not in any one person’s house: rather, we’re in a place that belongs to all of us together. Who is the host? Who are the guests?
Food is becoming an even more contentious issue. In Mennonite terms, do we cook from The Mennonite Community Cookbook or More-with-Less Cookbook and Simply in Season? Do we use only locally produced, organically grown food? Fair-trade coffee and tea? How do we accommodate people with food allergies—I am one of those—or provide for vegans and vegetarians? Conversely, how do people with special food sensitivities graciously accept the food of those who don’t share the same sensitivities?
In some churches I know the most difficult positions to fill are the ones responsible for fellowship meals. Candidates for these positions know that they could become targets of people who don’t want the responsibility but will nevertheless complain when things aren’t done the “right way,” meaning the way they’d do them if they were in charge.
I wonder if the potluck meal might be transformed if approached with the same attitude as for the Lord’s Supper: a meal we share together in the presence of Jesus. And can we follow the example Jesus modeled for us and be both givers and receivers, hosts and guests of one another? Then the fellowship meal might become a joy-filled opportunity for sharing the wonderful hospitality of God who welcomes us into his family and presence.
Richard A. Kauffman