The Bread of Life

It’s been almost a year and a half since my family has tried to intentionally incorporate the sacredness of the sabbath. It’s been beautiful on some weekends, and on others it’s been messy. There have been weeks it was skipped altogether, especially in the irregularity of summer rhythms. But I’m holding onto it with clenched fists because I have seen its power in my family’s life and my soul knows that it’s needed. No wonder God put it in the original ten!

Just two weeks ago, I decided to try something new with our observation of the sabbath. Growing up, one of my favorite meals of the week was my family’s Sunday lunch. It was always the biggest meal of the week: rice or mashed potatoes, a roast of some sort, green beans, sliced tomatoes, corn, rolls, and of course gravy!

My mom cooked whole meals almost every night of the week, but there was something special about our Sunday meal. Though I didn’t appreciate it at the time, she was up early each week preparing what we would eat once we returned home after church. Sunday meals always felt richer, fuller, and slower. It was like a sacrament of its own.

It’s my desire to leave an impression on my own children the way that my parents did with our Sunday suppers (thanks, Dad, for always helping me with the dishes).

My family considers Sunday the first day of the week, which makes our sabbath fall from Friday afternoon until Saturday afternoon. To kick off that time, we now have a special meal together in the dining room. Since I already cook most nights and we do already eat together as a family, I wanted this dinner to feel set apart in some way. Of all the years I’ve worked on intentional table settings for guests, I’ve never actually set a beautiful table for my own family. In fact, we never even set the table. Our dinner time starts with a self-serve buffet line in the kitchen.  

Friday is now a preparation day for me while the kids are at school. After the house has been tidied and the grocery shopping is complete, I intentionally set the table for that evening’s meal and begin the process of creating a loaf of bread from scratch. Since the heart of the sabbath is rest, I’ve been working hard to try to find healthy recipes that don’t yield a ton of cleanup.

My daughter helps cook, and we place all the food on the table so we can serve one another. Once seated, my daughter takes the freshly baked loaf of bread and breaks it to remind us that Jesus is the bread of life. He is the one who provides for us, sustains us, and fills us up. We then light a taper candle, and from that candle, light a second. This is to remind us that Jesus is the light of the world and because of him, we are the light to the world.  

Because there is no hope of electronics after dinner, our meal is slow and filled with laughter, reflections of the previous week, expressions of gratitude, and scripture memorization. To close out our mealtime, we open the floor for people to pray, but only if they want to. Brent starts and I close it up. So far, both of my children have wanted to be a part of the prayer circle the last two weeks.

I know it won’t always go this smoothly; there will be days where one of us will show up to the table upset about something or weekends will prove nearly impossible to schedule this kind of dinner. But when both of my kids have shared that the sabbath meal was the highlight of their day, I think it’s a family rhythm worth fighting for.