The blessing of family dinners

Pat and I recently shared our home with several young people. We laughed, played games, and ate together. It was sheer joy.

The meal was a simple sandwich and salad luncheon. Each one filled a plate at the counter separating the kitchen from our breakfast room, and then sat at the dining room table. We noted that most of our guests did not ask to be excused, nor were they comfortable lingering at table and conversing. Later, one of the young people asked, “Do you always sit and eat together?” The question reminded us of a privilege which Pat and I have both known all our lives, eating dinner together. We have taken the experience for granted. Eating dinner together is woven into our culture. We hungrily awaited Dad’s return from work because dinner did not begin until every chair was filled at the table.

The dinner table provided a daily forum for our parents to debrief us children. We were not interrogated, but naturally shared the experiences, fears, challenges and joys of the day and hopes for tomorrow. My sister Gloria worked for the Social Security Administration and had many humorous anecdotes to share about clients whom she interviewed and co-workers who made her life interesting and our dinners lively. Gloria’s dash for the McNichols bus is now legendary and was often a source for teasing. My brother shared how he was competing for “first trombone” in the symphony band, and once asked Dad if he though being an apprentice was a good job! Dad was rather quiet, but attentive. Mom urged us, “Eat the rest of this, I don’t want to put a little dab in the refrigerator.” Our parents served as unobtrusive referees who warned when we were crossing boundaries which would inflict wounds. Each learned empathy as tears would occasionally flow. We laughed a lot, sometimes debated the merits of issues we faced, negotiated conflicts, and learned more than we realize. We were only hurried a bit on church nights!

There are many reasons to adopt a family dinner routine. Table talk is affordable. No special high tech equipment is needed. Diagrams and complex planning would only defeat the dynamics which make dinner times redemptive, instructive and memorable. The value of hearing live voices, feeling real-life concerns, victories and loses cannot ne compared to the endless racket of a television. The dinner table is a priceless forum for teaching the next generation of Jesus’ disciples.

I now understand that our dinner table and the conversation we shared there was a place of privilege. We carried on the tradition as parents and are delighted as we observe the same privileged experience in our children’s homes. Jesus taught, “From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked.” (Luke 12:48) We welcome you to our table, somewhat selfishly, but eagerly.