MINISTRY OVER A SHARED MEAL
Gastrochurch is designed to be a place for people of all faiths to gather to discuss spirituality in a nontraditional setting
The Rev. Meredith Mills is well aware that Gastrochurch may not appeal to everyone. Some find the concept — a ministry that takes place over a shared meal — a little out there.
“The people who don’t get it, really don’t get it,” she said.
Mills is OK with that. In fact, it’s kind of the point.
Mills aspired to create a “church” for people who didn’t fit in at a traditional setting. She wanted to create a space where a range of guests could come, somewhere outside of church walls, and talk about spirituality.
And Mills believes there’s a certain power to a wellcooked meal — and to sitting down with strangers. She thinks the dinner table might just be one of the best places to connect.
To pitch the idea, she asked the Texas Conference of the United Methodist
Church to picture contemporary music at a worship service and to think about the way those new melodies attracted a younger audience to congregations.
“We took church and made it feel like a concert,” she told them.
“Why don’t we take church and make it feel like a restaurant instead?”
The Methodist Church was intrigued and agreed to invest in her idea. Elders sent her to a program to help young church entrepreneurs.
“I came back with a business plan and a proposition,” Mills said. “I said, ‘Let me experiment with the model and see what happens.’ ”
At the time, Mills was serving as pastor at a small, rural congregation outside of Houston.
“I could not get my demographic to come to church to engage,” she said. “And by that I mean, there were no young professionals without kids. Churches do really well once you have kids. People without kids often do not have a place to plug in.”
When the young professionals did come to church, they would simply sit through a service and then leave. Mills wanted them to feel more a part of the congregation, to engage more with members.
“What can I create that will involve elements of a Sunday service but would also be interactive and experiential?” she asked herself. “It would have to be something they would put on their calendar and not just something they’d go to if they had nothing else going on.”
At the same time as Mills was soul searching, she was also reading books about food nonstop.
“They couldn’t write them fast enough,” she said with a laugh. “I was reading food books like there was no tomorrow.”
Mills read books that explored food theologically, and she found references to meals and nutrition in the Bible.
“There’s a difference between a meal that embodies caring for the earth and caring of our bodies and your typical pot luck at church,” she said.
She understood that food is spiritual, that harvests can honor the earth. Nourishing the body could in fact promote spiritual health. In addition, the community built around a table could be holy. And that’s what came together at Gastrochurch.
Mills has been hosting the gatherings for the past three years. Thoughtful meals are served each time, and the food supports a theme for the evening. Generally, the concept takes its roots in Christian Scripture, but all faiths are encouraged to attend and share their own experiences and interpretations.
The core value of the function is hospitality.
“That’s in the theological sense, not the hotel sense,” Mills said. “Everyone is welcome at the table, no matter what. Not everyone is Christian or even interested in Christianity. I start with food and a Christian theme, then I ask a question that allows everyone to talk.”
There are three ground rules for each function. First, watch your screen time. Mills said that phones are not forbidden, but spending time on social media can prevent guests from actually being present at the tables.
The second rule is “share the air.” Each person is encouraged to tell their stories — but to keep them brief so others can talk, too.
Finally, “we don’t fix each other,” she said. Truly listening and connecting with others is the goal — not forcing them to adhere to a perceived notion of what is right or what is best.
“This may be the only time that you interact with someone totally different than you — at least this week,”
Mills said. “Tell your story. Listen to theirs. Enjoy the evening.”
Creating that dialogue is her goal. As a pastor, she has a Christian perspective but the sharing of other thoughts and ideas is sacred. “If the Holy Spirit works, then the
Holy Spirit works,” she said. “I don’t have to sell anything.”
Themes for the evening can revolve around holidays, like Lent, Easter or St. Patrick’s Day. The food matches the occasion.
Gastrochurch may serve all local ingredients and launch into an evening centered on location. Authenticity was one theme, and the dishes featured real foods and their alternatives. Another recent theme was baptism, and seafood was served, in keeping with a focus on water.
Mills comes up with three questions and presents the topics before each course.
The first question is meant as an icebreaker. For example, for the baptism event, Mills asked, “Have you ever had a particularly meaningful experience that was near water?”
As the evening progressed, the questions delved into the symbolism of baptism, the desire to create something new in oneself. Finally, guests also discussed ritual and the need for outward symbolism in life.
Three courses are served, family style. Everything is carefully timed to keep the night at around two hours.
At the end, Mills offers a communion at a separate, nearby location. “If you want to stay at the table — or if you want to take off — you won’t stick out,” she said. “What we’ve been through has been sacred. You’re connecting with others, and you’re connecting with God.”
The communion simply commemorates that sanctity, Mills said.
The dinners are donation-based. Typically, between 30 to 40 attend. Limiting the number of people to 50 makes the evening still feel intimate. At the same time, there should be more than a few guests so the dinner feels like an event, rather than a dinner party.
In the beginning, Mills and her husband handled all the details. He cooked, and she was in charge of the theology and washing dishes.
With time, others have become chefs for the evening. Individuals who enjoy offering food as ministry are ideal.
Gastrochurch intentionally is not held in a
“What we’ve been through has been sacred. You’re connecting with others, and you’re connecting with God.”
The Rev. Meredith Mills
church, Mills said. In the past, the dinners have been hosted in a yard, a home, a public park — even an Airbnb.
“I was intent on utilizing the model to connect with people who are not going to walk into a traditional church,” Mills said. “So we kept it off church campus.”
Now, Gastrochurch has two primarily locations — one in Clear Lake and one in the Heights. The dinners are offered monthly.
“The people who get it have been coming since the beginning,” Mills said. “It’s a niche thing. It’s for a particular demographic. Quite a lot of people want to sign up right away, but it’s not for everyone.”
Sareek Hosein and his wife, Erin, have been attending Gastrochurch for the past two years. They met Mills when she was a guest pastor at their church. Erin is a dietitian and loved Mills’ concept of using food to heal people spiritually.
“Both my wife and I were sold on it,” Hosein said.
He also understood the value of attending church in a new way. He had joined the Methodists first at a coffee-shop church in Dallas. Besides, he said, the food at the dinners is top-notch. “Every time, you’re going to have a good meal; you’re going to be nourished,” he said. “And you’re going to have a great conversation.”
Hosein has made friends at the dinners. “You meet really interesting people,” he said. “At the end of the night, you have the privilege of getting a piece of the stories for the five people at your table. You also get to give them a piece of your story. You break down barriers quickly, because of the depth of the questions.”
Hosein said he enjoyed the dinners so much that he signed on as a volunteer. “At the end of the day, it’s just good conversation around a table, with beer and wine,” he said. “It’s not your typical experience. It’s a unique way of engaging individuals.”
Gastrochurch appeals to foodies and chefs. The concept works for individuals who love deep conversation.
Recently, Mills asked participants to answer surveys at the end of the dinner. With the prompt “For me, church is …” most guests offered “complicated.”
“These are people who are not easily discipled through traditional churches,” Mills said. “We’re building a relationship with them.”
Mills has already provided her services to a number of area churches that are interested in starting their own form of Gastrochurch. Some follow the model to a T, while others put their own spin on it.
She now serves as pastor at Westminster United Methodist Church, in addition to hosting Gastrochurch.
Around the country, there are Gastrochurchlike food ministries in churches springing up. “Now it’s a movement,” she said.
The ideas behind Gastrochurch really aren’t new. “In fact, we’re using the oldest elements known to church,” Mills said. “This is what church used to be. And not having an agenda behind our conversation can be crucial.
“For young people,” Mills said, “something like Gastrochurch speaks to so many things that they’re not otherwise getting fed.”