Breaking Bread: The Beginning

I have lost much sleep over baked goods, two recent culprits being granola bars and pumpkin cinnamon rolls.

As I rolled out the rolls after midnight, I questioned my sanity: “Why am I doing this? Why does this seem so important?” It wasn’t owing to my pride, though mine is quite robust. The spice-laden gems were for special people: my family. And I wanted to say, “I love you,” with pumpkin cinnamon rolls.

Food and love are intertwined. When we make the food, it is an act of service. When we share the food, it is a gift. And the sharing itself is quality time.

When I have dinner guests on the way, I often forget the big picture. How many times have I frantically cleaned the bathroom before company arrived, or berated myself that I ran out of time to vacuum? How many times have I put food on the table while ushering disclaimers about the soup’s flavoring or the cream sauce that sank into the noodles? After we begin eating, I remember that the goal is to enjoy food together, not to create a glossy Bon Appetit spread.

When we eat a meal together, the open plane of the table invites us to spread stories across it, pulling from past and present to form a conversation. As we linger over dessert, we have the opportunity to ask deeper questions, even as we wonder whether to grab another brownie (and the answer is yes). After a meal with acquaintances, I that we have covered enough common ground on which to build our relationship. I feel unspeakably rich when I look at the friends across the table from me.

Cooking with other people is delightful as well. I’m a klutz in the kitchen already, so it’s even more comical when food preparation is a group activity. The haphazard division of labor is amusing: “What temperature is the oven supposed to be? I’ll take care of the spices. Want to beat the eggs? Did we add salt yet? We forgot the milk!” Plus, great conversations happen while our hands are busy with chopping and stirring.

Food also gives us an opportunity to reach out to others. When I worked at Light of Life Rescue Mission, I enjoyed good conversations with the residents while baking brownies and banana bread. Last month, I surprised a co-worker with a tiered chocolate cake to celebrate her wedding. When I gave a neighbor gingersnaps for Christmas, it sparked further conversations about his life and his favorite date-walnut cookies. Baked goods open all kinds of doors!

Sharing food has a sacramental quality as well: Christ himself uses metaphors of bread and wine to describe his sacrifice for a humanity intent on self-destruction. It’s no coincidence that one of the most intimate moments with the disciples took place at a dinner table: he ate one last supper with his friends before he was broken for our sins. And so when we eat together, we remember his precious gift to us: the ability to enjoy communion with God and with each other.

Few things are more fundamental and more sacred than breaking bread with friends.