Why I Think Dinner Matters

I really like to eat. I married a fantastically talented and thoughtful chef. It was one of my better decisions.  My girls and I are always thrilled when he tells us the dinner tonight is special.  Tonight's meal was a Holy Thursday dinner complete with homemade unleavened bread, watercress bitter salad, roasted garlic, olives and apple raisin relish.  It was delicious  Each item had symbolic meaning back to Passover and the last supper Jesus had with his disciples.   

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The night before Jesus died he took the time to make preparations for the traditional dinner.  He found a room.  Invited his guys.  He served dinner.  He included everyone even though he knew they would let him down, would run away and would betray him.

Jesus knew this evening was going to be his last on earth. He could have preached a massive sermon, performed miracles, chased hypocrites out of the temple, walked on water, raised the dead.  All important.  But his very last action before going to the cross was dinner. 

Why I think dinner matters?  Because my girls tell me things about their lives when we slow down enough to listen.  Because my soul reflects on what really matters when I sit and pay attention to what is directly in front of me.  Because when I'm sad or friends are hurting and we share a meal we generally feel better at the end.  Perhaps not totally healed from our troubles. Likely not. But at the end of a good meal made by someone I know cares about me I feel  hopeful, encouraged and rested,   Dinner has a special magic.  

Our crazy culture preaches fast food, multitasking dinner, grabbing a bite and eating on the run.  I believe one of the best things you can do to invest in your kids, to work on your marriage or to dive beyond shallow friendships is to share an actual dinner.  Put the cell phones in the other room.   

Take the time.  Eat dinner with your people.  It's holy work.