Sunday Dinner -- the Zenith of Parsonage Meals

Somewhere in the annals of Christendom, it was decreed that Sunday dinner was to be the best meal of the week. And all the preachers eagerly agreed.

As long as I can remember, Sunday dinner was always a big deal. I remember hearing family members talk about Sunday dinners of long ago (and how they had so many guests that the children, who ate last in those days, would often only get the pickin's). I recall many a Lord's Day where we gathered around my mother's fabulous homemade meals, always with hot yeast rolls and many times, steaming mashed potatoes. These times were warm, seeming to enfold my brothers and me in the embrace of our parents, our Heavenly Father, and the assurance that there was food from Mom's kitchen and a bright future for us all. Sometimes the district superintendent and his wife were visiting our church and the table was extra special and there was a luscious dessert as well.

There were other days when our church work placed us in revivals/campmeetings on Sundays or maybe it was one of those Homecoming Sundays in the South. On these grand occasions, we shared Sunday dinner with other families in "dinner-on-the-ground." Maybe it was a dining hall, maybe a picnic shelter, or maybe just folding chairs in a circle and some tables holding foil-wrapped casserole dishes -- but, however it was presented, it was always the very best every family could offer. Each cook usually brought her signature dish -- baked macaroni and cheese or fried chicken or pecan pie or chocolate cake. If it was the home church, you knew what to look for -- "Did Sister Jones bring her cornbread salad today?" The men loaded their plates and, with looks of bliss, retreated to their chairs to eat with the other husbands, who cared more for what their wives had cooked than for conversation. The women pulled back plastic wrap, stirred up the vegetables, shooed the flies, corrected the children and asked for each other's recipes while they ate, sometimes sitting, sometimes standing (women multi-task everywhere!) The children ate as little healthful food as possible, sneaked rolls, and gorged on desserts in this heavenly freedom from the "clean plate club." Church dinners are a glorious institution.

These days, dinners on Sunday are still a reason to celebrate:
~ the grace and goodness of God and the sacred day He has given to us
~ His provision of food and the skill to prepare it
~ the gift of family and friends who share the meal

It is true that one does not need to indulge in a bountiful Sunday meal to make the day special. In fact, the cook might be more rested if she served soup or sandwiches. But, the tradition of saving the best for the Sabbath seems somehow appropriate. Traditionally, we have worn our best clothing on Sunday and reserved our best behavior for the sanctuary (at least we teach our kids this!). It just seems to make sense that we share the grandest of our culinary efforts with our families on the day we also give our best worship to the Father. It fits. And be it roast beef or chicken or meatloaf, it tastes great when Dad says the Sunday blessing and little hands that drew pictures in Sunday School now are folded for a quiet moment. Mom breathes a sigh or relief -- another Sunday triumph.