Last month my brothers and our families enjoyed an outstanding dinner with our Amish cousins. The Amish begin every dinner with a silent prayer of thanksgiving, and—perhaps because their homemade meals are so delicious—they do it again at the end. Besides their terrific food, I was struck by the Amish emphasis on fellowship. Mealtime wasn’t merely a refueling pit stop, but an extended opportunity to laugh and swap stories deep into the night. I think they’re on to something.

Meals are important in Scripture, as well. Israel’s most important memory is marked by a meal. On Passover night, as Jewish families share roasted lamb with unleavened bread and bitter herbs, they remember their deliverance from the bondage of Egypt. Throw in the Festivals of Unleavened Bread, Harvests, and Shelters, and the Israelites gathered often with God and each other around bountiful tables of food (Deuteronomy 16:16).

Jesus also attended a variety of meals-so much so, that his enemies said he was a drunk and a glutton (Matthew 11:19). Jesus gave us a special supper to remember Him by, which in His day consisted of more than a miniscule wafer and tiny glass of juice, and He will return to host us at His marriage supper of the Lamb (Revelation 19:9).

The first Christians caught the spirit and “shared their meals with great joy and generosity” (Acts 2:46), often concluding their time together with the Lord’s Supper (Acts 2:42,46;20:7). Mealtime was so sacred that Paul advised Christians to avoid unrepentant brothers by refusing even to “eat with such people” (1 Corinthians 5:11).

As heirs to this rich tradition, how can we turn our dinners into community celebrations? We can turn off the TV, invite others to eat with us, and encourage our children to join the conversation. Eating together isn’t just about food; it’s fellowship.