“Why Eating Together Matters” – A Pentecost Reflection

This Sunday is Pentecost—the day the Church was born. Tongues of fire, a rushing wind, people speaking in every language under heaven. It’s one of the most dramatic, mysterious, Spirit-drenched stories in all of Scripture.

And we’re marking it with a potluck.

Some might find that underwhelming. Shouldn’t we do something a little more grand to honor the birth of the Church and celebrate the ministries of St. Paul?

But here’s the thing: The early Church didn’t build cathedrals or organize conferences. They gathered around tables. They broke bread. They ate together with glad and generous hearts (Acts 2:46).

And that wasn’t just a nice add-on. It was central to what it meant to be the Body of Christ.

Theologian Norman Wirzba says that to eat is to admit our dependence—on the earth, on each other, and ultimately on God. In his book Food and Faith, he writes, “To eat is to embrace the vulnerability and grace of life lived with others.” That means a potluck is not just about casseroles and cupcakes—it’s a spiritual practice. A theological act. A declaration that we belong to each other.

In a world that keeps telling us to be self-sufficient, to hustle, to isolate, to curate our lives and our meals—church potlucks are a quiet rebellion. They remind us that grace often comes disguised as Tupperware. That holiness can taste like deviled eggs and banana pudding. That the Spirit is still binding us together, not in grand gestures, but in simple acts of sharing.

At Pentecost, the Spirit enabled people to speak each other’s languages. And I think one of the deepest human languages is food. When we eat together, we’re saying: You belong. You matter. I need you. We need each other.

So yes, come to the potluck. Not because your casserole is gourmet (though it might be). Not because you have to. But because Pentecost isn’t just about fire from heaven. It’s about the slow, sustaining, often-overlooked work of being the Church. And that work happens at tables.
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I’ll save you a seat,
Pr. Melissa

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