There is an interesting analogy between spiritual and physical eating. Much of our Christian intolerance and lack of fellowship finds its source in differences in etiquette, not in nutrition.
Eating habits and styles begin early. The Smith household was happy to have food on the table and paid less attention to the number and order of the forks. Style definitely took a backseat to execution. However, I have some Southern friends of distinguished lineage who are convinced that eating cannot occur without proper form. Clarence Darrow, who in his law practice was the great defender of the outcast said, "I will do anything for the common man except eat with him."
Our churchgoing is very similar to our eating styles.
There is the gourmet: only the rare, expensive and well-served in perfectly proportionate surroundings is to be considered as proper eating. They enjoy the lavish… the dignified and often cultivated tastes. The food must more than satisfy their need for food…it must satisfy their aesthetic sensibilities. We have churchgoers who are people of high taste in spiritual food. The surroundings and manner of service is critical to the value of the food. We Southern Baptists call them Episcopalians.
Then we have those who insist that everything be done in dignity and without excitement. The surroundings may be less formal, but the presentation must be appropriate and without excess…. These people choose decorum. They never overeat nor engage in excessive table discussion. Their manners are beyond reproach and their tastes are well-ordered. These are the Presbyterian spiritual eaters.
Then we have the "all you can eat" chicken dinner on the ground crowd. The room is abuzz with conversation and the focus is definitely on "who brought the cobbler."
The quality and quantity of the food far exceeds the importance of the serving style. But the folks certainly want all their friends to know about this food and how they can get a plate at the table. These are the Southern Baptists.
I once visited a church to hear a friend speak. Unaware of the schedule I arrived quite early and entered a totally empty sanctuary. I picked a convenient aisle seat and enjoyed my time alone in this magnificent stone edifice. Shortly, an elderly woman came in and nearly sat on my lap in this vacant room. After a few uncomfortable minutes I asked, "Am I sitting in your seat?" "Yes, our family has sat here for decades." You see, she is a woman of tradition and decorum and I had violated her "church eating" rules. She would not be comfortable at my chicken eating dinner, but yet we have the same desire to be fed.
It is too easy to turn up our noses at those who eat differently, whether it is physical or spiritual food. The litany of the formal service can bring me an experience that my good ole Sunday evening song service might never provide. And the generous serving of the Gospel would feed the souls of many gourmet churchgoers.
Food is sometimes a luxury; often a joy; and always a necessity. When we watch others eat we should be awfully glad that they are being nourished. And perhaps we could offer to "pass he potatoes"every once in a while.
Bottom line is that He is the bread of life, whether it is a croissant or a slice of white.