How often do you sit down to share a meal?

If you’re anything like me lunchtime is munching sandwiches at your desk and dinner is reheating a meal an hour after everyone else has eaten.

Such a solitary diet is no good for the soul: Virginia Woolf wrote “one cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well”, while American author Dr. Alan Wolfelt says that “food is symbolic of love when words are inadequate”.

Making time for a meal, making time to sit down with family and friends to share not just food but their company may be rare, but it’s all the more precious for it. The dinner table is where our lives unfold: news is shared, memories are recounted and plans are made.

Imagine sitting down to share such precious time with mere acquaintances, or even strangers. Imagine sitting down with the people from your church. Imagine the seeds of relationships that could be sown and start to grow.

Alpha

I was reflecting on this last night as I ate my dinner at Holy Trinity Brompton, attending the home of Alpha on the first night of its latest course.

To my regret, I didn’t discover the joys of sharing a meal at Alpha until the very last session of the course that we ran in our parish.

Our church in Hertfordshire lies in the heart of the London commuter belt and is blessed with a large number of young families. Being a parent of young children myself, I knew it would be a struggle to try to get home, put the kids to bed and then head out to prepare a meal for 7pm.

Along with my team in the parish running the course, we decided we’d just do drinks and nibbles instead.

Our sessions went well enough, and as is always the case on Alpha many people delved into questions about their faith that they hadn’t considered for many years, if at all. Faith was strengthened and new friendships were made.

But on the final evening, just a few weeks before Christmas, we thought we’d go all-out and have a big party, complete with a hot meal.

To my surprise, none of the difficulties I had anticipated in offering a meal occurred. The food was cooked and served by the lovely Patrick, in typically jovial mood, and included his locally-renowned Irish soda bread. Meanwhile a team of volunteers decorated the hall and tables to give it that Christmas feel.

For the first time since running the course I allowed myself to stop, sit down and have a chat with people other than those in my small group. We had the time to be still and allow the pressures of the day float away.

When we had finished eating and stood up to sing a few hymns, everyone's voices seemed louder than they had during the previous weeks of the course.

In the small groups after the final talk, conversation flowed more freely. There was a natural discussion about what we had just heard, rather than what had been, at times, a slightly more stilted and artificial exchanging of views.

From his first miracle at the wedding feast of Cana, right through until the Last Supper, Jesus made a habit of teaching his disciples a lesson either during or after a meal.

There’s a reason Christian communities have a tradition of breaking bread with each other, and there’s a reason Alpha courses start with a meal.