A Take-Out Society?

The Importance of Affirming Community

I love church suppers. You know, the old-fashioned ones aimed at the greater community, meaning you not only get to connect with people from the sponsoring congregation but also all those hungry, good-hearted souls who come for the cooking, the camaraderie, and the contribution in support of ministry.

Our country church (not TRULY country since it’s in town… but a very small town) launched a steak supper fundraiser in 1976 to help celebrate the congregation’s centennial. But, as often happens, good people soon found more places requiring money than funds available. Maybe another supper? Then another, and another, for almost 50 years now.

The date of the Mona Steak Supper is set in stone, the second Tuesday in March. It was last week. Unfortunately, we weren’t there; a rare blank spot on diverse and busy calendars was filled in by a late-winter escape to warm(er) weather, visiting friends of longstanding. I say unfortunately because I enjoy the steak supper. It’s similar to what people say about heating with wood (which we don’t): it heats when you chop it; it heats when you split and stack it; finally, it heats when you burn it. A church supper builds community multiple times, an outcome as important as dollars procured.

For example, community is affirmed and sustained

-in late summer, when as many as fifty workers gather to “put up corn” a major menu feature;

-the day before, when a dozen-plus potato peelers gather;

-the day of, when a meat assembly line forms at dawn -- cutters, seasoners, flour-ers, fryers -- browning beef to create Swiss steak; and, of course,

-the evening of the event, when church doors are thrown open to the greater community.

Photo by Gilberto Olimpio on Unsplash

Now, lest you think small rural congregations are hidebound, this supper has certainly evolved. We’ve migrated from a set ticket price to “freewill offering,” since donors are more generous than ticket-buyers. Cakes and pies have been replaced by store-bought cookies… easier for all those to-go orders. And, big change: prompted by the pandemic, a sizable take-out operation became an ALL take-out, drive-through event, which it was again this year.

It’s the right decision, nevertheless, it denies the more social among us the pleasure of engagement, conversation, storytelling, and actually SEEING the person you heard had been poorly lately, the neighbor returning after seeing her seventh grandchild (with photos!), the farmer you hope to borrow a hay rack from, and so on. In pre-pandemic years, the crowd would gather in the sanctuary, waiting for their number to be called. Sometimes, there was even “waiting music”… probably less appreciated than the opportunity just to visit. Casual connections simply don’t happen with drive-through.

With take-out, there’s no table setting, when awkward teenage volunteers learn which side of the plate the knife and fork are placed. Our son now knows which way the knife blade should face, after being scolded by a relative he didn’t know. “Who IS that, Dad?” he asked. I explain, “She’s your grandma’s first cousin… her father and your great-grandmother were brother and sister.” An eyeroll response.

A pastor friend recently expressed concern that the post-funeral luncheon might be going the way of the buggy whip. “Nobody has time anymore.” he said. “We’re being denied an important transitional part of the grieving process.” I agreed, recalling how the first few minutes of post-funeral stiffness is usually transformed into an informal time of remembrance, with smiles, even laughter. It’s one way communities cope with loss and transition.

For me, steak supper conversations are even better than the meal, which is always terrific. There will be years when pre-event corn and potato and meat duties will have to suffice, tasks all important to the annual supper. Meanwhile, tending to community is necessary for the health and vitality of the world I seek to live in. I want to participate in these throwback assignments as often as possible, hoping the outcome is more than a take-out, drive-through society.

Iowa Writers’ Collaborative Columnists 

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Barry Piatt: Piatt on Politics Behind the Curtain, Washington, D.C.

Macy Spensley, The Midwestern Creative, Davenport/Des Moines

Mary Swander: Mary Swander’s Buggy Land, Kalona

Mary Swander: Mary Swander’s Emerging Voices, Kalona

Cheryl Tevis: Unfinished Business, Boone County

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