Food and fellowship in the time of coronavirus

In this strange new world of "social distancing", the concepts of community and fellowship are being re-examined. In a way, this age is uniquely suited for this baffling situation: with social media, instant messaging, video chats, etc, we are far more able to stay in touch than ever before. But some things fall flat in front of a screen. Like communal meals, for example. There's nothing like sharing a meal with family or good friends, getting together around a table, sharing the same dishes. Cooking together, cleaning up.

And now that our churches are meeting online, the question of what to do about the Lord's Supper has been weighing on me. Since September, I have come to deeply cherish celebrating the remembrance of Christ and His sacrifice this way. My church celebrates once per month, a frequency that makes me glad. If I'm honest, I wish it were more often. The extra special fellowship with Jesus and the rest of His body always feels so poignant and necessary, as does the preparation of my heart beforehand.

The last time we held communion was the last in-person service that we will have in what could be a long time. And so I wonder: how will I celebrate the Lord in this way during this time of separation? I found myself thinking about this today, and I imagined myself eating a cracker and drinking a cup of juice on my own, which just didn't seem right. I suppose it's possible that my church might hold a communion in the online service. In a time like this, I don't suppose the Lord would mind if some of us remembered Him with whatever we have on hand.

But if not?

I may have mentioned that one of the times I feel the Lord's presence most strongly is when I'm cooking. Chopping vegetables or preparing meat, mixing spices, stirring soup - somehow, He and I come together over the stove and chopping board. I find myself asking Him to make the meal more delicious than I could hope to make on my own, and then telling Him about the day, whatever thoughts are on my mind at the time. It becomes precious. I feel Him draw near, and I bask in the warmth of His pleasure in my simple, home-nourishing task.

I don't know what it is about cooking that brings about this ease and closeness with Jesus, but I'll tell you one thing: it makes me want to cook more often! Maybe it has something to do with all the time the Lord spent communing with His disciples over food (and the flak He got from the Pharisees for doing so!), the miracles He performed around food (which all pointed to Him being the Bread of Life, and the new wine of the covenant of His blood, anyway), the precious dinner in Bethany where Mary sat at His feet instead of helping Martha cook, the Last Supper of course. And then there were the meals shared with Him after His resurrection: with the disciples on the road to Emmaeus, cooking breakfast for His inner circle on the beach... Maybe it also has to do with His instruction to Peter to feed His sheep, as He gently restored Peter to service after his denial of Jesus.

Whatever it is, I feel it. And the overwhelming feeling I get is one of thankfulness that I get to spend time with Him this way, that He likes to commune with me in this simple, necessary act. That, in the process of making all things new, Jesus has reclaimed a little bit of daily life usually classified as "work" and made it a little slice of heaven for me.

And as I wait expectantly for the Lord in the midst of this unfolding global tragedy, so long as I have resources to cook, I will cook and pray, think about these things, and commune with the Lord, whether I can take communion or not. And when this quarantine is over, I hope to invite more people over to our home for dinner and fellowship.