Many of us have fond memories of dinner on the grounds, those times when church members would bring food to share and enjoy a time of fellowship. In fact, I’ve often heard it said that “fellowship” is a code word for food!

For many churches, those days are gone. In those places, the potluck is a thing of the past, something of an embarrassment from our history that we’d like to sweep under the rug. And that’s pretty sad.

Psychologist Paul Rozin compared the outlooks of North Americans and French people when it comes to food. For example, when showing both groups a picture of chocolate cake, the Americans tended to use the words “guilt” and “calories”; the French responded with “celebration” and “pleasure.” Food anxiety runs high in this country, and we’ve brought that into our churches.

I was on a committee that was discussing “care groups” in our congregation. During the discussion, the statement was often made: “And of course, we don’t have to eat together.” I did my best to push back, saying that yes, the church does need common meals. If our care groups aren’t going to break bread together, then we need to find a fellowship time to replace that.

The church needs to eat together. That needs to be a basic part of who we are. And even though it’s inconvenient and messy, I think we need to share our own food, not just go to a restaurant. We need to be involved in the preparation and the clean up. We need to learn what other families find appealing. We need to look one another in the eye and say, “God gave me this, and I want to share it with you.”

A few years ago, Jay Guin wrote the following on his blog:

And so I think we’ve managed to lose something ineffable but essential in our increasing preference for restaurants over the chaos of buffet tables and children feasting on limitless desserts with room to run.

I grew up in a pretty typical Church of Christ, and my fondest memories are of covered-dish dinners on the grounds — playing with friends and sampling foods from many different homes.
But even in a huge church, I think we need to find the time to eat together on a regular basis. You just don’t really know someone until you’ve tasted their banana pudding or three-bean casserole — and helped a new member who’ve never even met with her kids. I mean, food just has a way of bringing people together.
Now, as previously noted, we cannot let the social element of the church become the center of church. Rather, the common meal, the love feast, must grow out of our lives of mutual service. Therefore, you can’t go to a restaurant, because a restaurant has nothing to do with serving others. Rather, one of beauties of the covered dish meal is that each family has to work — to cook, to set up, to break down, to help with the kids.
Don’t hire a janitor or a cooking crew. Rather, think of the covered dish as a modern version of foot washing — a way to serve both symbolically and in reality. Bring more than your fair share if you can afford it, and don’t look askance as those who don’t bring anything.

Yeah. That.