On Breaking Bread and Building Relationships

We’ve had some lovely posts on freedom and honoring both our forefathers and our military these past few days here at The Glorious Table, but as we wrap up the holiday weekend, I wanted to share with you what’s been on my heart, in case it speaks to yours too. Yesterday we had friends over for a barbecue–the first we’ve hosted since we moved to Memphis nineteen months ago. They’d invited us over several weeks ago, and we wanted to reciprocate.

I spent the morning grocery shopping and preparing food, and I was still in the kitchen when they arrived, finishing my preparations. It was so hot and sticky that we decided to forego my freshly painted turquoise picnic table and eat in the air-conditioned kitchen instead. We loaded up paper plates with our shared meal–gruyere and herb turkey burgers, bratwurst, and hot dogs from the grill; old-fashioned potato, spaghetti, and tuna macaroni salads; baked beans; chips and dip; fresh watermelon–and sat down to enjoy our feast.

As I looked around at the smiling faces of this family I haven’t known very long, I recalled the words of Sally Clarkson I’d read earlier in the week, in her book The Lifegiving Home: “There is something about preparing food and sharing it that enhances relationship, builds community, even fosters spiritual connection. No wonder Jesus’ followers recognized their risen Lord when he broke bread with them.”

I remembered how I felt when my husband came home and said we’d been invited to a crawfish boil on Memorial Day weekend. Something inside me bubbled a little. I remember, too, when we got there, how we were warmly welcomed and made to feel at home. As a busy work-from-home mama of two small girls who doesn’t get out a whole lot, I needed what we received that day: hospitality, warmth, the offer of friendship.

I sometimes wonder how much meal sharing has suffered as a result of our overcommitted, screen-oriented culture. On the wall in my dining room hangs a print inscribed with the words of Acts 2:46, “They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts.”

Meal sharing, as the Bible exemplifies, is one of the cornerstones of faith. Throughout both the old and new testaments, we can see example after example of meals shared–with family, with friends, with travelers passing through. Sally Clarkson points out that even the humblest of meals–a cup of coffee and a muffin, for example–can become doorways to relationship building, both with immediate family and with friends.

I cook dinner for my family almost every night, but I have tried to take the relational opportunities inherent in mealtimes to heart on an even deeper level of late. Since my husband leaves for work before dawn during the week, I try to gather us all at the table for a hot breakfast at least once on the weekend. The opportunity to begin the day together with pancakes, waffles, crepes, or biscuits and gravy puts everyone in a good mood and helps us reconnect.

As well, my four-year-old daughter and I have begun a practice of sharing afternoon tea following her daily nap. I brew a pot of tea for myself in my English teapot, get out the china cups and saucers, pour lemonade for her, put a small treat to share on a plate (usually something we baked together the previous weekend), and read aloud a chapter from a book. It all takes less than half an hour, but my daughter looks forward to this brief interlude with great anticipation; it may even be her favorite time of day because we get to share a little time, a few pages of a story, and a couple bites of something delicious before I return to my workday.

These shared meals have reminded me that hospitality and service begin at home, and that they reflect the love of Christ in the most fundamental of ways.

Last night, after our guests had gone and I had finished the not unsatisfying work of returning the kitchen to a spotless state, I put on the teakettle. Hearing it whistle a few minutes later, my daughter came running.

“Mommy, we didn’t have afternoon tea today,” she said.

“No, we didn’t, because we had company instead,” I explained.

Seeing her wistful expression, something in me melted a bit. “Would you like to have evening tea with me now instead?” I asked.

I went to get out the cookies and lemonade, knowing that the next half hour was more than a snack or a chapter in a book; it was another brick added to the foundation of our relationship.

Harmony Harkema has loved the written word for as long as she can remember. A former English teacher turned editor, she has spent the past seven years in the publishing industry. A novelist and blogger in the fringe hours of her working mom life, Harmony also has a heart for leading and coaching aspiring writers. Harmony lives in Memphis with her car-loving husband and two small daughters. She blogs at harmonyharkema.com.

Photograph © Bethany Beams, used with permission