I recently ran a social experiment.

I was a high school substitute teacher for four days. For the record, I’ve never been a teacher or a sub, but I’m a mom, so I figured I could handle three classes a day. Plus, it was in the cooking classroom, an area I love. As I prepared myself, I wondered how the students would treat me – sure, some of them know me through my children, but the majority don’t. I pondered how I could make my days more engaging than a typical blow-off class they might expect from a sub.

I started whipping up my idea. Could I engage each class in conversation that would result in more than the “grunts and yeps” many teenagers use? Could I inspire them to think about food as more than a daily necessity, more of a way to gather friends and family? And if so, how could I present it, so they would participate?

At the start of each class, the kids strolled in, dropped their backpacks, and nose-dived into their phones. The full-time teacher challenged me to collect their phones before we started cooking. I considered the idea but decided that might kill any chance of these kids liking or learning from me. Instead, I cheerfully gave them the overview of the recipes and asked what music they would like to listen to as they paired up into their kitchen lab stations, and began measuring ingredients.

As I walked around, I noticed that everyone seemed to be with people they enjoyed, even if not their closest friends. They chatted with each other kindly. A natural “boss”, or shall we say head chef became apparent in each group, and everyone settled into their roles and split up who was going to do which task.

Stopping at their kitchen counters, I made a point to look each of them in the eye and smile. Simple. Yes, and sadly, profound.

Each class had a personality, based on who was in the class. Of course, some kids didn’t want to be there, some asked to go to the bathroom, and some disengaged with headphones on. Others were sweet as sugar and excited about their final product. Regardless, I talked to each of them. I looked them in the eyes. My desire was for each kid to feel seen, heard, and encouraged. I wanted them to experience the kitchen as a place to be silly, make mistakes, laugh, and have deep conversations. I took time to inquire something about them, sometimes asking about the college sweatshirt they were wearing or the sports decal on their backpack. And I was thrilled to watch a few stop wearing the “parent face to appease the substitute,” as they answered me with deeper, thoughtful responses.

As we were finishing up the first day, I found it comical that in each class, at least one group didn’t read the recipe in its entirety. We had bitter BBQ sauce, burnt queso, applesauce instead of a blonde bar, and tons of laughter. The time felt ripe to run my experiment. As the students were washing dishes, wiping down countertops, and putting equipment away, I mentioned I had a homework assignment for them. The “Are you kidding me?” looks on their faces were priceless.

I hoped to sprinkle Jesus into my lesson plan. I was subbing at a Christian school, so this was acceptable and encouraged. I love asking conversation questions, so I decided I would give them one to ponder before we met for the next class in two days. My homework was, “How have your family and friends used food as a way to gather people together, like ‘breaking bread in the Bible’ together?”

Two days later, when we sat down with our plated meal to review homework, I’ll be honest, I was hopeful that at least one student would answer my question. Turns out, each kid in all the classes shared. The answers ranged from family dinners every night, with some as lengthy as 45-90 minutes (for the record, multiple people said that, in multiple classes), some shared how they food prep with their parents on Sunday, or a traditional dish of their family heritage that they continue to make. Some answered that they never eat together as a family, but they gather with friends, because “we all need to eat and it’s a great way to talk.”

We learn this soulful hospitality as we watch Jesus interact with friends and family. From His first miracle transforming and multiplying water into wine at a wedding feast (John 2); many intimate meals with Lazarus, Martha, and Mary (Luke 10:38-42); crowded meals feeding the masses (Matthew 14:13-21, 15:32-39); to His final meal with His best friends, the Last Supper (Matthew 26:17-30); the prophecy of believers’ future feast (Isaiah 25:6-8); and still performed today with the ritual of communion (1 Corinthians 10:16).

Breaking Bread is a tradition built around not only food but also the desire to spend time with and get to know others, their experiences, their vulnerabilities, hopes, and fears.

“They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to fellowship,
to the breaking of bread and to prayer.” Acts 2:42

I craved for the students to understand that breaking bread can be replicated at home, in a college dorm, or in their first apartment. We are drawn to the kitchen. Think about how many gatherings you’ve been to, where all the guests congregate in the kitchen! We feel comfortable and safe surrounded by its clatters and smells and conversations. Just like our souls are drawn to the Creator. My friend Dayna taught me that in many instances the physical world mimics the spiritual world. In this scenario, the kitchen is the heart of the home, it mirrors spiritual preparation, spiritual food, and feasting. When we are eating together, we are partaking in spiritual fellowship. My favorite answer to the homework assignment was “Mrs. Sheanshang, it seems like our conversations get deeper when we are sitting around the table.”
Amen.

I left my classes soulfully fulfilled. My desire was for each student to know they were seen, they were heard, and encouraged in something they valued. In a small way, I wanted to point them to explore Whose they are. Their identity can be found in God because He knew them before they were born. Regardless of what they are questioning, what boundaries they are pushing, what societal norms they are trying, they have a Heavenly Father who loves them intimately, and people here on earth who care for them, listen to them, and want to make a mess in the kitchen with them. (Check out these verses on being known by God: Jeremiah 1:5, Isaiah 43:1, Luke 12:7, Psalm 139:4, 1 John 4:19).

Please pray with me:
Lord, Thank You for the opportunity to substitute teach and for prompting me to try this experiment. It was a joy to feed Truth, and I pray that our time together spurs spiritual curiosity in them too. Thank You for the time to share Your Love and Truth in an everyday setting. I lift up everything these students are struggling with, and ask that You tell them they are Yours! Please build up their confidence and faith. Let them desire to pursue and claim faith for themselves and build them into our Church of the future. Amen.

Originally published for Goodwordproject.com on February 22, 2024