Ryanne Molinari

“What can we make for you?”

“Do you have any allergies?”

“Are there any foods you won’t eat?”

When my son was born, we were the grateful beneficiaries of two church meal trains. I have never eaten so well in my life! Although I recognize the dedicated preparation that went into the meals my family enjoyed, I like to think that we made it fairly easy on our friends. Not only do we not have allergies, we don’t really have preferences. Both my husband and I are happily omnivorous. The best meal, in my mind, is the one I don’t have to make.

Not being a picky eater seems like a small thing, but the longer I serve in ministry, the more I am convinced that it is one of the best ways my husband and I can serve our people. A huge part of being hospitable, it turns out, is simply accepting hospitality without unnecessary qualification.

I am reminded of when my husband and I first started dating. My mom invited him over for dinner and asked if there were any foods he would not eat. He thought for a moment before responding, with complete seriousness, “I’m not big on beef tongue.”

Apparently, while on a mission trip in Russia, he had tried beef tongue and found it not exactly to his liking. Not terrible, but not his thing either. If I remember correctly, my mom snort-laughed. Believe it or not, beef tongue had never been on the menu for us as an average Arizonan family. My mom promised not to force-feed him tongue of any type and watched happily as he ate everything she put before him for the next seven months. Then, once we were married, she announced that she was done being eaten out of house and home by the pair of us. (We were both distance runners, so no food was safe. My husband once nearly bit into a dog biscuit because it happened to be sitting on the counter. Don’t tell him I told you that.)

Today, our merry munching is a vital part of our ministry. We recognize that eating too much or without any concern for physical health is a form of gluttony. But, as one of our seminary professors explained in a class on embodiment, gluttony boils down to any unhealthy obsession with food. It can manifest in binging and caving to every craving. Just as often, though, it takes the form of orthorexia (a determination to eat only the “right” foods), anorexia (a paralyzing fear of eating anything at all), or plain, simple pickiness.

Resisting gluttony means refusing to be ruled by food, one way or another. It means making healthy choices when we can, avoiding foods that will do us immediate or serious harm, and not overloading our plates. But it also means accepting food that isn’t our favorite without comment or complaint.

Consider an alternate example. (I’ve changed the exact details for privacy.) There once was a family I wanted to get to know better, so I tried to invite them over for dinner.

“The weather is super nice. How about a barbecue?” I asked.

“Oh, I don’t eat beef.”

“Okay, we can grill hot dogs instead. Do you guys like baked beans?”

“I won’t eat beans.”

“No worries. I can make a fruit salad. Are ice cream and brownies okay for dessert?”

“Sure, but I’m going keto, and my husband only likes milk chocolate.”

In the end, we did not get together. I probably should have tried harder to curate a completely neutral meal. I admit that I failed in extending hospitality by giving up too easily. But we as Christians can also do better at accepting hospitality. I don’t mean that someone like my brother, who has a severe nut allergy, needs to risk his life by eating pistachio cookies or that my friend with Coeliac’s disease needs to suffer just to try my sourdough. But, whenever possible, we should set aside what are mere preferences—even strong preferences.

A few years ago, for instance, I attempted an elimination diet to see if food sensitivities were irritating my skin. Just as I was identifying dairy as a likely culprit, a couple from church invited us over for Italian food. Really, really good Italian food.

But you know what Italian food tends to have a lot of? Dairy. Eating that much cheese would almost certainly affect my complexion, but as it would not cause me critical or chronic harm, I said nothing and loaded up on lasagna. (And man, was it worth it!) Setting aside my minor sensitivities for one evening was a small way for me to serve those who were serving me. (Fun fact: since pregnancy, I have not had any food sensitivities. How cool is that?)

One of the first things I noticed about our youth pastor and his wife was how easy they are to entertain. When they flew out to interview at our church, they graciously accepted a beautiful, healthy breakfast I prepared with care. Last weekend, they accepted an unaesthetic casserole I slapped together with equal thankfulness. As a middling chef, I appreciate such gracious friends! What a gift to others to be so easily entertained!

So, consider this my challenge to you: whenever possible, accept what is offered to you with eagerness and thanksgiving—be it an Italian feast, Costco hot dogs, church foyer donuts, or frozen chicken nuggets thrown into the air fryer. At the risk of sounding unbearably Baptist, just eat the made-with-love casserole, whether or not you like it.