The Family Dinner


(This article courtesy of the Arlington Catholic Herald.)


It’s true that some nights dinner at our house is extremely early or extremely late. Some evenings we are missing a member or two. But nearly every night, there is a meal on the dining room table, there is grace before we eat, and there is lively conversation. No one in this family would have it any other way.

Regular family dinners have been positively linked to higher academic performance. It leads me to wonder: is it the meal or the concentrated attention of the people a child loves and the invaluable opportunity to share. With a regular family dinner, children find a peg upon which to hang so many important things. Family dinners are a habit worth cultivating.

At the dinner table, children find the time and place to talk with their parents and to be heard by them every day. They can count on it. A seated parent, who is unhurried and unlikely to be interrupted by anything, is rare in a busy day. A parent with his mouth full is the ideal listener for a child who has something important to say. This is where a family culture is nurtured — around the table night after night for both serious conversation and casual banter. This time is crucial. We must come together for a time every day to talk to each other, to be with each other, to give the priority of a quantity of quality time to family.

Family jokes are inevitable — the most recent laugh in our house is baby Nicholas who has never missed a meal and quickly learned to say “more” in sign language. We’ve tried to teach him “all done,” but he vehemently shakes his head “no.” For Nicholas, it’s more or nothing. Just shy of his first birthday, Nicholas already embraces this time of the day. He loves to be surrounded by his family and he revels in the atmosphere of good food and good conversation. He gives new meaning to “fat and happy.”

Memories are made around the family dinner table. I remember the night we told the kids that Nicholas was on the way. I remember the first time Christian said grace all by himself. And I remember when Mary Beth, a toddler at the time, climbed on the table only to fall off and break her arm. Many of our memories include visitors to our home. When dinner is planned every evening, it’s a simple thing to extend hospitality on the spur of the moment.

For a family which gathers every evening to eat together, family prayer is natural. Nothing is simpler to say than a standard grace and then to add prayer intentions. We also say special graces for special occasions. I don’t think it is just a coincidence that we read so often of Jesus’ meals with his friends. Meal times are natural times for feeding souls as well as bodies.

Healthy families don’t just happen; they are nurtured. Nurturing is a slow, tender process. It is at odds with the frantic pace of American life. We are busy, busy, busy. Our children are overscheduled to the breaking point. We rush from work and school to scouts and sports and dance. On the way, we grab something to eat and chase it down with a sports bottle full of Gatorade.

Stop. Look carefully at the calendar. See that window there around 7 p.m.? If there were stew in the crockpot or chili in the freezer, couldn’t there be dinner on the table in a few minutes and couldn’t you all take time to eat together? It takes some forethought, some planning, and the resolve to execute the plan faithfully. To replace the habit of meals on the run, someone must decide that seated dinners together are important and someone must get them on the table. Someone must slow down in order to nurture.

This requires sacrifice. It requires discipline. I have found, however, that as the dinnertime dance becomes more challenging, technology becomes more accommodating. Now, I plan menus for three weeks at a time and cycle through them. I rely heavily on slow-cooked meals begun early in the day and freezer meals cooked in quantity. I key all the menus and recipes into the computer and then I get online to order groceries. They are delivered to my door the next day. The careful planning required by this routine saves me money and, frankly, I don’t consider six kids in the grocery store to be quality time.

There is a real need in this country at this time for the security a close-knit family can offer. To that end, we must manage ourselves, lest we be swallowed up by activities that are relatively unimportant. We must make choices for those things that feed our souls and nourish loving families — things like advent traditions and family vacations, and regular family dinners. Family time doesn’t just happen; it’s planned. In homes where family dinners have disappeared, something other than the family culture has been given priority over the family. A choice was made. Was it a wise choice?

Subscribe to CE
(It's free)

Go to Catholic Exchange homepage

MENU