This new series from Grassmarket Press aims to provide clear, concise books on Christian doctrine and life from a Reformed and Presbyterian perspective. Here’s an excerpt from the most recent release.

The Logic of the Feast

Sometimes we divide the world into things that belong to God and things that don’t. Church and personal devotions are God’s time. Friday night at the bar is my time with my friends. Everything else is a gray area. But that’s not how the Bible talks about the world. A friend called this biblical picture “graduated holiness.”

In the Bible, some things are more holy than others, but all things belong to God. If people, places, or activities seem to be outside of God’s kingdom, it is not because they don’t belong to Him: it’s because they are in rebellion against His rule or they have not yet heard of it. In the Old Testament, there are many examples of this. In the last nine chapters of Ezekiel, the prophet is given a vision of a restored and redeemed Israel with God’s temple at its center.

Although hard to follow in the text, when we read closely, we see the temple in the exact center, a holy district for the priests and Levites in a box around it, a district for the prince around that, then new allotments for the various tribes radiating outward. The picture is strange and symbolic, but lovely: God will dwell in the midst of His people. The same picture emerges in Revelation, where the New Jerusalem is revealed, the city of God: “They will need no light of lamp or sun, for the Lord God will be their light, and they will reign forever and ever” (Rev. 22:5). God’s presence at the center of the land or the city tells us that the whole place belongs to Him. The transforming presence of God is promised in Zechariah too:

“And on that day there shall be inscribed on the bells of the horses, ‘Holy to the Lord.’ And the pots in the house of the Lord shall be as the bowls before the altar. And every pot in Jerusalem and Judah shall be holy to the Lord of hosts, so that all who sacrifice may come and take of them and boil the meat of the sacrifice in them. And there shall no longer be a trader in the house of the Lord of hosts on that day” (Zech. 14:20–21).

What on earth does that mean? “Holy to the Lord” was the inscription on a plate of gold that the high priest wore on his forehead when he served in the temple (Exod. 28:36–38). Zechariah’s readers would have understood what this meant: if the bells of horses are inscribed “Holy to the Lord,” then everything is holy to the Lord! All the earth belongs to the Lord: authority (Matt. 28:19); glory (Isa. 6:1–3); saving kindness (1 Tim. 4:10). But God’s people are more holy: they are His household (1 Tim. 3:15), His kingdom of priests (1 Pet. 2:9; Exod. 19:6; Rev. 5:10). And every day is holy to the Lord. But the Sabbath is the most holy day of the week. Because it is holy, every other day is holy.

Worship is the most holy hour of the most holy day. In it, we openly glorify God’s kingdom and His grace: we say His name in prayer, praise, and preaching. The Psalms are full of this language. “Let them extol him in the congregation of the people, and praise him in the assembly of the elders” (Ps. 107:32). “Oh, magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt his name together!” (Ps. 34:3). That holy time spills over the sides into festivity and celebration through the rest of the day. In his book Leisure: The Basis of Culture, philosopher Joseph Pieper says that worship and feast-making always go together. That’s why we call days of feasting “holidays” (from “holy day”).

Walter Brueggemann points out that the Eucharist (which means “giving thanks” in Greek) is at the very center of Christian Sabbath keeping. This is true whether or not we celebrate the Eucharist (a.k.a. communion, a.k.a. the Lord’s supper) on a weekly basis. Worship is at the center of our Sabbath feasting, and a feast (the Lord’s supper) is at the center of our worship. The bread and wine at the heart of the Christian Sabbath and Christian worship testify to God’s pardon and love. What we believe in our hearts we also experience in our bodies: Christ came to give us joy and rest.

So glorifying God with our worship flows into glorifying Him with our feasting. The center of any ancient house (in Israel, Rome, or Greece) was its garden. Instead of the garden surrounding the house, the house was built to protect the private courtyard with its fountain, fruit trees, and flowers. The center of any ancient kingdom was the palace, and ancient palaces had enormous, elaborate gardens. This is where the king and his nobles feasted. The glory of a king was seen in his feasts. At the beginning of the book of Esther, we find King Ahasuerus giving “a feast lasting for seven days in the court of the garden of the king’s palace” (Esther 1:5).

By contrast, communion, the meal our King gave us, is humble and simple. It is also humble and simple compared with the elaborate sacrifices and feasts of the Old Testament. It is, therefore, “portable” and accessible to all kinds of people, all over the world, in a way that the ancient feasts of palace or temple were not. It is a feast we are called to celebrate everywhere. The Jews in exile were told to treat Babylon as if it were theirs to garden (Jer. 29)—to treat it like their God owned the place (because He did). We are to do the same throughout the whole world: celebrating at least the feast of communion, and when possible the feast of the Lord’s Day.

Feasting flows from worship because rest flows from worship. Of course, “rest” means more than taking a break from work (which is the focus of the Westminster documents, alongside worship). It means enjoying the fruit of our labor, just as shalom means not just the absence of war but the enjoyment of God’s blessings, every man under his own vine and fig tree (1 Kings 4:25). Rest means ceasing from labor and enjoying God’s blessings along with others. Rest and feast cannot be separated.…

How to Feast

The Lord’s Day is the time to feast, not fast. Sunday has always been a feast day, and we should keep it that way. Even churches that celebrate Lent forbid fasting on the first day of the week. You may not make it a day of fasting and misery, any more than you may make it a day of labor and drudgery. There are plenty of other times for fasting (Luke 5:35).

Make the day and the feast the focus of the week, and prepare ahead. Take your cue from Questlove’s grandmother: think a few days ahead what to eat on Sunday. A lot of people barely plan any of their meals; this may start to transform the way you live, in a good way.

Make the feast restful, including restful for the cook. Keep it simple enough that you can handle doing it, and it isn’t the source of undue stress. The last thing you want is for Sunday dinner to become a source of anxiety for days ahead! Remember that this isn’t something we have to do but something we get to do. Keep a lid on the impulse to impress your guests. Learn to use the slow cooker and the oven timer. One of my wife’s strategies is to repeatedly make one of a handful of meals every Sunday. There are people who have had the same sheet pan chicken three times in a row when visiting my house. They love it. Those who don’t usually cook can lend a hand (as long as they don’t make things worse) and they can certainly help with cleanup afterward. If you need to, feast on leftovers, pancakes, or peanut butter and jelly.

But make the feast delicious. (I know I’m talking out both sides of my mouth: consider these goals rather than rules.) In Isaiah, the salvation God brings is described as “a feast of rich food, a feast of well-aged wine, of rich food full of marrow, of aged wine well refined” (Isa. 25:6). Nehemiah says to “eat the fat” (Neh. 8:10). This is the day to eat good food! That will look different from family to family and place to place. I think of the Italian import stores of Providence or North Syracuse or Pittsburgh, smelling of olives and cured meats, or the enormous smoker my friend Topper built for church barbecues. If you drink (and I am not saying that you must or should), this is a day to imbibe. My personal preference is wine, but I think anything in moderation and with thankfulness is okay. And, of course, have dessert.

Feast to the glory of God: do so in conscious honor of God. He put this food on your plate and this wine in your cup: not the person who prepared it, not your paycheck, not the nice people at the store, not even the farmers that grew it. “So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God” (1 Cor. 10:31).

Give thanks at the beginning of the meal, and consider having family worship at the end. Receive what you’ve been given with thanksgiving, making it “holy by the word of God and prayer” (1 Tim. 4:4–5). Part of glorifying God is that you share what you’ve been given. Have plenty for everyone, and invite those outside of your family or household to eat with you, at least sometimes. In addition to feasting and enjoyment for their own sake, this can be an act of mercy and it is a key opportunity for discipleship.

“Wisdom…has slaughtered her beasts; she has mixed her wine; she has also set her table. She has sent out her young women to call…‘Whoever is simple, let him turn in here!…Come, eat of my bread and drink the wine I have mixed. Leave your simple ways, and live, and walk in the way of insight’” (Prov. 9:1–6).

Feast, because God has provided the feast. On the way up Mount Moriah, Isaac asked Abraham, “Where is the lamb for a burnt offering?” (Gen. 22:7)—and God sent the needed sacrifice. The Lamb has come, has been offered, has given us Himself to eat. We feast in His honor, both at the communion table and in our homes. We have been invited to a meal of grace that we could not earn, like both sons were in the parable of the prodigal (Luke 15).…How can we not celebrate?

Worship, Feasting, Rest, Mercy: The Christian Sabbath is now available from Crown and Covenant Publications.