Why did God create a world in which every living creature must eat?
For most of us, the act of eating is contained in this binary: eat to live or live to eat.
At its worst, a “eat to live” lifestyle is usually nothing more than a repackaged utilitarianism, reducing a God-inspired world to one of calories, metabolic rates, and fitness. Aesthetics and adoration have no place here—only the “gainz” through boiled chicken breast and broccoli.
On the other hand, living to eat can lead to extreme hedonism. Following in the footsteps of Epicureanism, the philosophy of living to eat might show up in chasing after food trends and Yelp Elite status. Pleasure is the object here.
We all lean one way or the other, and that’s fine—even good. Personally, I’ve found tremendous insight through these two ways of eating in different seasons of my life. During COVID, I grew to appreciate the God-ordained human body when attempting to become more fit. I learned to be more intentional in the quantity and quality of the calories I consumed. More recently, my interest in the culinary world has been important in engaging in creativity and excellence in human work.
So, where does God fit into this?
While I know that God is certainly present and can be honored in both ways of eating, preparing Wednesday meals for my young adult group has given me the space to think deeply about Christian eating. In particular, the biblical idea of feasting has made a significant shift in my personal understanding of eating as well as opportunities for church unity.
A Feast For All Peoples
“On this mountain the Lord of hosts will make for all peoples
a feast of rich food, a feast of well-aged wine,
of rich food full of marrow, of aged wine well-refined.” (Isaiah 25:6)
Every feast requires food makers and food eaters.
It is the Lord of hosts that makes the feast, not servants or angels. This is remarkably peculiar, especially when we consider how makers of food in our world are usually at the mercy of the eaters. There is a reason why we say that the customer is always right. Eating in our world is about the exploitation of the weak, and outside the occasional celebrity chef, those who prepare food are doing so not because they want to but because they have to. In God’s kingdom, however, the power dynamics are reversed. The creator sets the table before us. The only prerequisite for a feast from the Lord is marked by not our deeds but simply our presence. All we have to do is arrive.
Now, exactly what kind of person is allowed to arrive? The wealthy? A specific ethnicity? No, none of these. We read that the feast is for all peoples. The only time I’ve experienced something like this–even if it came in glimpses–was at church. During my time at Redeemer Ann Arbor, our recent increase in diversity was exciting but posed a significant challenge at times. What united us was the vast differences between us. Our church was majority white, but rather than buying into the idea that we can all survive on a baseline American diet (serving Costco pizza every week), my pastor made the decision to have the leaders make comfort foods from “home” instead.
It wasn’t easy or appetizing at times. I admit I cried on the inside when a college student ladled coconut curry into the kimchi stew I had prepared. But then, I found myself smiling when given a plate full of fried plantain chips, pumpkin cheesecake, and a bowl of Bak kut teh. The interaction of one culture with another without erasure represented the norm—not the anomaly—at our young adult group. It’s what we’ll do in heaven and we get to practice here. It is how we become family.
Furthermore, while other aspects of the Christian life can become individualized, feasting is unique in that it’s something you cannot do alone. We always feast together. In an age where everyone seems to be lamenting about Western individualism, feasting as a corporate act should be refreshing to us.
A Feast of Resistance
And he will swallow up on this mountain
the covering that is cast over all peoples,
the veil that is spread over all nations.He will swallow up death forever;
and the Lord God will wipe away tears from all faces,
and the reproach of his people he will take away from all the earth,
for the Lord has spoken. (Isaiah 25:7-8)
Reading this passage in the midst of the death and destruction in the world today could feel a bit like gaslighting. How could an image so beautiful be even remotely true now—or ever?
It is especially hard to believe this when we are alone. Consequently, most of us showed up to our Wednesday feasts tired, dejected, and with many tears. The cast that covers over all people was heavy, and it felt like death had swallowed us up instead!
I remember a particular Wednesday when a friend read this passage aloud before our communal meal. Her voice was shaky and filled with emotion. I believe her vulnerability set the tone for us to share our pain with one another. More importantly, it gave us the opportunity to live out this verse, to let God move through our hands and feet.
We learned to resist the lies of the enemy by speaking truth into each other’s lives. We wiped the tears of our friends who were broken by this world. This was a time of celebration for what God has already done on the cross, though we still felt the effects of sin in our lives. Our dinners of resistance helped us to remain faithful.
A Feast of Waiting
It will be said on that day,
“Behold, this is our God;
we have waited for him, that he might save us.
This is the Lord; we have waited for him;
let us be glad and rejoice in his salvation.” (Isaiah 25:9)
Isn’t it interesting that the culmination of our waiting–to be glad and rejoice in our salvation–is not a profound speech or elaborate show, but a feast?
The American Evangelical imaginary is often set in non-embodied terms, meaning that salvation is formulated on theory and doctrine without giving much thought to our physical, creaturely nature. Isaiah 25:6-9 is an important correction to this way of thinking. By offering a vision of the final feast, we can participate in actively waiting for the return of the King: mind, soul, and stomach.
Eating (together) also tends to be extremely good at identifying the object of our waiting. This process of procuring, making, and eating food among a specific group of people is called a foodway. Foodways reveal traditions, culture, and history that help you get to know a family or people group better. So a close investigation of a foodway doesn’t just reveal a certain type of cuisine or nutrition facts but also the deepest desires of people.
For example, consider the Love Feast that began in 1780 from Brethren in Christ churches. The Love Feast usually held foot washing, personal testimonies, a fellowship meal and concluded with the Eucharist (communion). According to this historian, this feast wasn’t just nutrients shoveled into people’s bodies. Rather, it was an intentional, religious practice to stand as a witness to the world and evangelize by gastronomy. They feasted precisely because they believed.
In the same way, what emerged from our Redeemer Wednesday dinners wasn’t just another meal. What emerged was a distinct Christian foodway that has a biblical and historical precedent. By eating together and spending intentional time together, we reveal our deepest desire: We were waiting for someone to show up.
We ate as an act of waiting for God to reveal Himself to us. We ate in full confidence that the joy of his salvation was greater than anything we have experienced in this world. And we will continue to eat so that when faith becomes sight, we can say together that, “This is the Lord; we have waited for him; let us be glad and rejoice in his salvation.”