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Share the gospel with the lost, and you see how readily unbelievers will believe in anything but Christ. I have spoken with men who believed detailed things about aliens on other planets. I’ve talked with grown men who searched for Bigfoot on this planet. I’ve spoken with those ready to believe in almost anything who simultaneously will scoff at the historical gospel of Jesus Christ. Just last week, I spoke with a man willing to tell me all about his confidence in ancient Greek gods — Zeus and such — yet wanted to hear nothing of Christ crucified.

Share the gospel with the lost, and you see how ready unbelievers, no matter their beliefs, are willing to mock yours. Eye rolls, smug laughter, yelling or shaming or posting or reposting — they likely will not kill or imprison you in the West, but they will try to humiliate you. We don’t taste much indignity in our Christian lives, and most of us mean to keep it that way. Being a Christian is still mostly tolerated if you don’t “impose your belief” on others. A privatized Christianity — unseen, unheard, unshared — is tolerated, but don’t bother the unsuspecting secularist at his cubicle or bus stop or public park with what he never asked to hear.

Is this why we feel so inclined to only share the gospel when we’ve already established a relationship and all the stars align? “Cold turkey” evangelism and open-air preaching — though seen all through the New Testament — is presumed unfit for today. Our day cannot bear the ruggedness of a John the Baptist or a Paul or a Whitefield, despite all the glorious fruit God wrought through their ministries.

Shame and Spectacle

Perhaps we prefer a relationship-only evangelism because we do not like to experience shame for our faith — at least that was one reason for me. We want to test the waters, feel out the terrain, learn the contestant, and if we ever get around to “going there,” prioritize mutual respect and affection above uncomfortable conversations about repentance and faith. Sure, there’s nothing wrong with establishing relationships with unbelievers to share Christ, but if this has become our excuse for silence, might something be wrong? To do relational evangelism could be to line up across from each other on “neutral ground,” to send our delegates, to negotiate a peace. To surprise the rebel with news of his crimes against his King when he never asked you (even if you offer him a sure and forever pardon) is uncouth, ungentlemanly, intrusive, a sneak attack in the dead of night on an unsuspecting enemy.

So we click the turn signal on miles before getting on the freeway so as not to catch anyone off guard. We assume if anyone gets upset with us when speaking of Christ, it’s our fault. If we were good at evangelism, the world would love us as its own — though it understands we have our differing beliefs.

How the apostolic experience contrasts with the normal Christian experience:

God has exhibited us apostles as last of all, like men sentenced to death, because we have become a spectacle to the world, to angels, and to men. We are fools for Christ’s sake, but you are wise in Christ. We are weak, but you are strong. You are held in honor, but we in disrepute. To the present hour we hunger and thirst, we are poorly dressed and buffeted and homeless, and we labor, working with our own hands. When reviled, we bless; when persecuted, we endure; when slandered, we entreat. We have become, and are still, like the scum of the world, the refuse of all things. (1 Corinthians 4:9–13)

If Paul came to America today, he would still be a spectacle. The same people who have no problems with us would have problems with him. Why? Because he brought Christ where his reign was unwanted. Synagogues with Jews and marketplaces with Gentiles. The circumcision party was after him just like the pagan idol-makers. He chose to suffer and chose to expose himself to shame in serving Jesus. He rode to the front line of every battle, reassuring us, “I do not account my life of any value nor as precious to myself, if only I may finish my course and the ministry that I received from the Lord Jesus, to testify to the gospel of the grace of God” (Acts 20:24).

Shame. Not merely dying a terrible death at the paws of lions but doing so before a jeering world, watching you be torn apart in the Colosseum. Not merely dying in one’s cell in the dark but being exhibited on a cross to the wagging tongues and envious eyes of your enemies. Shame is not to be naked, but to be paraded through the streets naked. Flaunted, placarded, paraded, made a mocking spectacle.

We don’t want to taste shame. No one does. So we stay quieter than we should, testifying about Christ as if in the public library and only with people we’ve known for years. We are one gospel conversation away from being ignored, yelled down, or simply eye-rolled into never trying that again.

Shame-Eclipsing Joy

But Jesus suffered shame. He chose it. His enemies encircled him and mocked his torment. He died in public, as a spectacle, for all the Jews coming into Jerusalem to see. He wasn’t just struck; he was slapped and spit upon, dressed in a purple robe of ridicule. He wasn’t just tortured; he was hung up, like a billboard on the side of a freeway — naked, finally dying after hours of evil entertainment before men and devils. Jesus endured the shame, overcame the shame, despised the shame.

How?

For the joy that was set before him. Jesus is “the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God” (Hebrews 12:2). His joy included honoring his Father. Included going to be with his Father. Included reclaiming the glory he had from the beginning. And his motivating joy included the offspring he bore through such fatal labor pains. We do not imitate him in our atoning death, but we do imitate him in our pursuit of joy in the salvation of others through our witness about his death and resurrection.

He has prepared a place for us through his death and resurrection. As in the parable, the wedding feast is prepared and the seats made ready. He sends us, his servants, out into the highways and hedges to invite the unworthy to feast with God in his kingdom, honoring his glorious Son. That is our privilege. We have good news. We are not sent out to tell sinners there is no hope. We do not stop at clanging shackles in men’s ears and declaring that only a few more moments prevent them from their eternal nightmare. For the joy set before us, despite the inevitable disdain of unbelievers (and some believers), we go forth and tell the good news of great joy, as light and bright as the angels at Christ’s nativity.

What if evangelism wasn’t merely a duty we feel shame for neglecting but an opportunity for joy in God? What if this is a necessary part of life in Christ, and he will not allow lazy or man-fearing servants to drink this sweetest of wine? What if half of us remain pestered by restlessness, plagued by unhappiness, bothered by feeling that something is missing, all because we do not go forth in Christ’s mission to bring him to the lost? Do we read more books, go to more conferences, listen to more podcasts, and watch more sermons, but never spread what we know? We cringe away from rejection and shame, and fail to see that these are but a small price to pay for the thrill of being soldiers for Christ and seeing the dead raised to life.

Joy sent Jesus to die for this; it sent Paul to share in those sufferings and count them as nothing in comparison. Will it not move us to speak more happily in the service of the King?

ABSTRACT: Church membership, despite objections and examples of sub-biblical practices, is a good gift and a crucial component of the Christian life. The kind of membership Scripture describes and expects is a clear and continuing mutual commitment between an individual Christian and a local church. In this commitment, the church endorses the member’s profession and shepherds the member’s soul, and the member submits to the church’s authority and shares in the church’s life.

Does the Bible present local-church membership as a part of the faithful Christian life? My answer is yes. But in making that case, the first and necessary step is to provide a clear definition of the kind of membership for which I’ll argue.

My aim is not to argue for every contemporary practice of church membership — there are surely some that exceed, ignore, or defy biblical teaching. Nor do I intend to do exegetical gymnastics in order to find membership classes, membership interviews, or membership rolls explicitly mandated in the biblical texts. Rather, in this essay I’ll offer a definition of church membership, respond to an objection, show the biblical foundations for church membership as I’ve defined it, and draw out several implications for how this understanding of membership shapes our posture toward, and participation in, a local church.

Defining Membership

Here’s an understanding of church membership that I’ll argue has secure biblical foundations:¹

Church membership is a clear and continuing mutual commitment between an individual Christian and a local church, in which the church endorses the member’s profession and shepherds the member’s soul, and the member submits to the church’s authority and shares in the church’s life.

Let’s note seven components of this definition.

First, the church membership for which I’ll argue is, at root, a commitment. It is not an automatic, de facto reality but rather a specific choice to obligate oneself to another. Until that commitment is made, membership doesn’t exist.

Second, the commitment is between an individual Christian and a local church. Married couples and families don’t become church members as couples and families. Membership is the commitment of an individual. And that commitment is made not with the universal church, composed of all believers throughout time and space, but with a particular local church.

Third, the commitment is mutual — bilateral rather than unilateral. To be a member requires more than simply an individual Christian saying, “I want to be a member,” or even, “I commit to be a member.” For there to be membership, the local church must also commit itself to the individual.

Fourth, the local church specifically commits to the individual member to endorse his or her profession of faith (as long as it remains credible) and to shepherd his or her soul (as long as the membership lasts). The local church therefore has significant responsibility for its members, both affirming that each is a Christian and laboring to ensure that each perseveres as one.

Fifth, the individual member specifically commits to the local church to submit to the church’s authority and share in the church’s life. In other words, the individual member obligates himself to be present within the gathered relationships and activities of the church and to yield to the shepherding and teaching of the church, as it follows the Lord Jesus.

Sixth, in church membership, this mutual commitment between an individual Christian and a local church is clear. It’s explicit and understood by both parties — not unstated, assumed, or implied, but obvious and evident.

Seventh, in church membership, this mutual commitment between an individual Christian and a local church is not merely a one-time, initial agreement but a continuing one. When one party ceases to keep the commitments, membership ends.

Objection: Is This What Paul Meant?

There’s an obvious objection to my definition of church membership — namely, it’s not what the apostle Paul meant when he spoke of Christians being “members” of Christ’s body. In 1 Corinthians 12:27, Paul says to those in the Corinthian church, “Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it.” He doesn’t mean (so the objection goes) that the Corinthian Christians have progressed through an opt-in membership process at some point subsequent to their conversions. Rather, in Paul’s view, every believer, simply by virtue of becoming a follower of Jesus, is a de facto member of Christ’s body. “For in one Spirit we were all baptized into one body — Jews or Greeks, slaves or free — and all were made to drink of one Spirit” (1 Corinthians 12:13). Note especially the repeated word all in that verse. To be in Christ is to be a member of Christ’s body as Paul conceives of membership. You can’t be a Christian and not be a member. This kind of membership isn’t administered by the elders or other leaders of the church. Rather, God himself composes the body (1 Corinthians 12:24).

The objection can be sharpened. Not only does my definition use the term membership in an un-Pauline way, but worse, by imposing on local churches a structured, organizational, opt-in, “mutual commitment” form of membership, it excludes as members of the body of Christ many believers whom Paul includes — those who are converted and baptized yet do not become church members in the modern “mutual commitment” sense.

I think the objection misses Paul’s purpose in 1 Corinthians 12. The broader context indicates that Paul is concerned neither to advocate for nor to exclude the “mutual commitment” form of church membership I’ve described. Rather, he has other pressing concerns. Diverse spiritual gifts are present within a church that is already pridefully inclined toward division (1 Corinthians 1:10–17). So, Paul aims to teach the Corinthians about their deep unity amid rich diversity. The metaphor for which he reaches is that of a human body with many individual parts, each contributing to the whole.

In his essay “Membership,” C.S. Lewis notes that, in our modern way of speaking and thinking, membership refers to inclusion in a class of similar objects or people. The phrase “members of a class” refers to things that are alike. Lewis describes the problem he perceives: “I am afraid that when we describe a man as ‘a member of the Church’ we usually mean nothing Pauline: we mean only that he is a unit — that he is one more specimen of some kind of things as X and Y and Z.”² But, as Lewis notes, when Paul thought of members of the church, “he meant what we should call organs, things essentially different from, and complementary to, one another: things differing not only in structure and function but also in dignity.”³ Membership as Paul describes it in 1 Corinthians 12 refers to every believer belonging to — and blessing — Christ’s body in all its spiritual unity and spectacular diversity. This is at the forefront of Paul’s mind as he develops the image of the body of Christ with all its members.

I’m happy to concede that 1 Corinthians 12 isn’t explicitly calling for the “mutual commitment” church membership I’ve specified above. The metaphor of a human body and its parts certainly doesn’t express the need for members of a church to opt into that relationship, since humans are born with our body parts already knit together. (Those parts don’t each individually choose a relationship with the body at some later point.) But far from ruling out “mutual commitment” membership, 1 Corinthians 12 assumes and implies it. Each member of a human body knows all the other members. There’s no ambiguity about whether the left arm is (or is not) part of the body. If a comparable clarity is to exist between Christians today, a clear and continuing commitment is necessary between each individual Christian and the local church. The commitment must be explicit so that the church knows who belongs to it. Additionally, the metaphor of a human body conveys well the mutuality of that commitment. When I stub my toe, my eyes look toward the pain, my hand investigates the wound, my mouth releases a howl. And of course, that toe constantly functions to balance and support the entire body.

So, while it’s true that church membership as Paul describes it in 1 Corinthians 12 isn’t identical with the “mutual commitment” membership I’ve described, the two are fully compatible.⁴

Biblical Foundations for Church Membership

I have defined church membership as “a clear and continuing mutual commitment between an individual Christian and a local church, in which the church endorses the member’s profession and shepherds the member’s soul, and the member submits to the church’s authority and shares in the church’s life.” Let’s test this definition against Scripture.

Does the New Testament envision a mutual commitment between an individual Christian and the local church? Is that commitment meant to be clear in the sense that it’s explicit, obvious, evident, and understood by both parties? Is the commitment meant to be continuing in that it’s sustained by both parties? The answer in each case is yes. In particular, the New Testament passages that discuss church discipline demonstrate that a church must be clear on who belongs to it and who doesn’t. It’s less important whether that clarity is achieved through a formal membership process (e.g., a membership covenant, membership interviews, and a membership roll) or through the more informal, relational knowledge of attentive pastors in a smaller church. The crucial baseline reality is that the church knows which believers have made a commitment to it, and to which believers it, in turn, has committed itself.

Matters of Discipline

In 1 Corinthians 5:1–13, Paul instructs the Corinthian church to remove from among them a man who is guilty of sexual sin. Paul’s exhortation to have this man “removed from among you” (1 Corinthians 5:2) implies that there is a clear understanding of who the “you” is — that is, who is (and is not) the church, who is “inside” and who is “outside” (1 Corinthians 5:12–13). It also demonstrates the importance, on the one hand, of the church shepherding the member’s soul and endorsing the member’s profession of faith (excommunication is the rescinding of that endorsement) and, on the other hand, the member’s submission to the church’s authority, including its disciplinary actions. The very idea of a church disciplining someone implies that the person in question has granted the church permission to do so. (Churches don’t discipline all Christians who are geographically proximate!) That granting of permission is what I call church membership, whether or not the process involves all the specific mechanisms often associated with contemporary membership.

In Matthew 18:15–20, Jesus instructs his followers, in the process of confronting a sinning brother, to eventually “tell it to the church” (Matthew 18:17). He surely doesn’t mean they should bring sensitive matters to whomever shows up when the church gathers, including first-time visitors and unbelievers (1 Corinthians 14:16). His words assume a definable entity called “the church,” a group that knows who has committed themselves to its authority and whose professions of faith it has endorsed. If the sinning brother refuses to listen to the church, “let him be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector” (Matthew 18:17). Again, there’s an inside and an outside. The church knows which is which and who is where.

Ecclesial Authority

The expectation of a clear and continuing mutual commitment between an individual Christian and a local church is present in other New Testament passages as well. When the author of Hebrews urges his readers to “obey your leaders and submit to them, for they are keeping watch over your souls, as those who will have to give an account” (Hebrews 13:17), he is certainly not instructing every Christian to submit to every Christian leader. “Obey your leaders and submit to them.” Further, he tells his readers that their leaders “are keeping watch over your souls,” not the souls of every Christian. Leaders must render an account to God at the last day for the pastoral care they have provided, and this strongly suggests a clear commitment of submission to particular leaders on the part of the individual Christian. The leaders of a local church are not responsible to God for just anyone who walks off the street or visits for a Sunday or two.

Similarly, the Christian knows whom he’s submitting to — and it’s not the elders of other churches in town. By joining the church as members, individuals voluntarily place themselves under the authority and care of the elders of the church, which is why Peter tells elders there are sheep “in your charge” (1 Peter 5:3) and that they are to shepherd the flock “that is among you” (1 Peter 5:2).

Mutual Care

The New Testament frequently urges Christians to be deeply involved in each other’s lives for mutual service, encouragement, and accountability. “By this we know love, that he laid down his life for us, and we ought to lay down our lives for the brothers” (1 John 3:16). “Exhort one another every day, as long as it is called ‘today,’ that none of you may be hardened by the deceitfulness of sin” (Hebrews 3:13). While this kind of loving service ought to occur among Christians anywhere and everywhere, it reaches its pinnacle in the daily life and fellowship of a group of believers who regularly worship together and who have clearly committed themselves to one another — and continue to do so.

Just as a wedding vow strengthens (rather than squelches) the loving relationship between a husband and wife, so a clear commitment between church members deepens our bonds of connection and mutual service. We realize that even our individual, personal fight against sin is in fact a way of serving our fellow members. As Dietrich Bonhoeffer writes,

The individual must realize that his hours of aloneness react upon the community. In his solitude he can sunder and besmirch the fellowship, or he can strengthen and hallow it. Every act of self-control of the Christian is also a service to the fellowship. On the other hand, there is no sin in thought, word, or deed, no matter how personal or secret, that does not inflict injury upon the whole fellowship. An element of sickness gets into the body; perhaps nobody knows where it comes from or in what member it has lodged, but the body is infected. This is the proper metaphor for the Christian community. We are members of a body, not only when we choose to be, but in our whole existence. Every member serves the whole body, either to its health or to its destruction. This is no mere theory; it is a spiritual reality.⁵

Church membership, in the sense that I’ve defined it in this essay — a “clear and continuing mutual commitment” — has a firm foundation in the New Testament Scriptures.

One Form, Varied Expressions

The form of church membership for which I’ve argued is basic and broad enough to allow for varied expressions. For instance, consider a church of fourteen people that meets in a living room and is attentively shepherded by two elders who know who among the group is a believer (and who isn’t). Only believers make decisions for the church, serve in leadership positions, and are held accountable to regularly participate in the life of the church and obey Christian teaching. Each believer knows that his two shepherds affirm his profession of faith, and each shepherd knows the baptized believers who have committed themselves to the church and who count it a joy to be shepherded by their elders. Although there are no membership classes or interviews (and perhaps no written membership roll), this church is practicing biblical church membership.

So is a church of one thousand that requires prospective members to participate in a membership class, make a profession of faith, and sign a membership covenant before they’re voted on as members, their names are added to a membership roll, and the church elders assume shepherding responsibility for them. In both cases, the crucial reality is not the exact mechanisms employed (e.g., classes, interviews, a Sunday morning welcoming service). The Bible says little about those. What matters is the participation and submission of the individual and the affirmation (of the believer’s profession of faith) and shepherding care of the church. In both of these churches, there is a clear and continuing mutual commitment between an individual Christian and the local church. That’s church membership.

The form of church membership for which I’ve argued is also clear and robust enough to rule out some contemporary forms of membership. I know of one church that defined its members as those who profess faith in Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior, agree with the church’s statement of faith, and demonstrate by regular attendance that they consider the church their church home. This type of informal membership fails on multiple counts.

First, it requires insufficient commitment from the individual Christian to the church. Participation in the church’s life is collapsed down to mere “regular attendance,” and membership is on the individual’s own terms, with no mandated accountability to the church and its leaders. On this understanding of membership, someone who is sinning publicly and unrepentantly could be a church member as long as he professes faith in Christ, agrees with the church’s statement of faith, and regularly attends Sunday gatherings. That’s absurd.

Second, this informal membership is unilateral — it’s entirely the choice of the individual — with no required oversight or shepherding commitment from the church. This type of informal membership (and others like it) fails to meet the basic biblical understanding of membership as a clear and continuing mutual commitment.

Our Privilege and Stewardship

The form of church membership toward which the Bible points us — a clear and continuing mutual commitment — is a costly gift, simultaneously free and demanding. It’s not like the gifts of a soft bed and fluffy pillows, which entail sleeping. Instead, it’s like the gift of a gym membership, which entails sweating. It’s not like the gift of a huge bank account, which requires only spending. Instead, it’s like the gift of a huge estate, which requires stewarding. You may receive Downton Abbey completely free of cost, but it will likely require the rest of your life to manage it well. It’s the same with biblical church membership.

Being part of the body of Christ on earth is a free gift, an inestimable privilege that no one could ever earn. But having received it, it will require much from us. We will share in the sacred life of our church family, submitting our souls to leaders and going deep with fellow members. We will make ourselves responsible for the spiritual welfare of others who have also made themselves responsible for us. We will need the help of God’s Spirit and the help of the other members of Christ’s body in order to live out this costly grace of biblical church membership.

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I can still recall, around the age of ten, standing in the kitchen of my childhood home and seeing my mom’s three-ring binder open on the counter. She had inserted patriotic clip art into the front plastic cover with the words “Fourth of July” printed over the top. Inside the binder, she included a master plan for every meal she would make for our family and the out-of-town guests hosted at our house for the week, as well as a menu for the Fourth of July party, which would welcome even more people. The plan for the party day was elaborate and huge. The meals included breakfasts, lunches, and dinners, with the occasional note that our guests would be out getting their own lunch or breakfast.

As a child, I appreciated none of the work involved. This isn’t to say I was ungrateful; I just didn’t grasp the massive effort and planning my mom undertook to feed so many people! It’s a marvel to me that she ever found time to leave the kitchen.

One of the learning curves we encounter as wives and moms is that of regularly and cheerfully feeding people whose appetites are renewed every day, just like the sunrise. I recall the sense of shock as our family grew and I realized they never stopped needing food — and that making breakfast, lunch, and dinner would be tasks that continued for the long haul. How this simple reality escaped my notice — particularly considering I grew up in a home with a mom who went to great pains to make sure we were well-fed — is a mystery, but I don’t think I’m an isolated case. I hear many young wives and moms remark with surprise at how much of their life is devoted to food prep and how much time they spend in the kitchen.

Given the regularity of the work we’ve been assigned, don’t you want to grow in learning to do it willingly, cheerfully, and competently — in a way that pleases God?

Necessary Nourishment

It goes without saying, but food is not optional. God intentionally made us to need food every day. One of the reasons he did this is so that we would recognize our dependence on him both physically and spiritually. Jesus taught us to pray, “Give us this day our daily bread,” right alongside, “Forgive us our debts.” Our physical and spiritual needs are both regularly and daily met by Christ (Matthew 6:11–12). Yet, so often, both our physical and spiritual needs are met through human means. Our food does not come to us as manna from the sky. It comes through the labors of the farmer, the butcher, the baker, and the grocer — and for my children, it comes through the provision of an earthly father and the labor of an earthly mother.

There are two ways to reckon with this practical reality as a mom who is repeatedly asked, “What’s for dinner?” The first is to claim an identity that makes good meals an anomaly and an enigma. Some women confidently assert, “I don’t cook.” But this is a little like a schoolteacher saying, “I don’t read,” or a father saying, “I don’t play with children,” or a doctor saying, “I don’t bandage wounds.” Everyone must eat, so whether you’re single or married, a mother or not, making food is part of life. You will either learn to do it well, or you will do it poorly. But no one gets to opt out. And if you are a wife and mother, it will be a considerable part of the work you do on behalf of others, so why not get good at it?

The good news is that you don’t need to become an expert overnight. Considering the regularity of the task, you have lots of time to practice making nourishing and delicious meals. And if your children are young, then the cooking can similarly be “young” — little children don’t require (or want) fancy food. Isn’t God kind to make our journey in the kitchen correspond to the needs of our family — starting small and simple, then growing into something larger and more advanced?

The second — and better — approach to meal preparation accepts it as a God-given calling (Ephesians 2:10). Pursue cooking “heartily, as for the Lord and not for men” (Colossians 3:23). The trick, as with all of life, is to determine in your heart to see God’s goodness in the duties he’s placed before you. You can do the job by faith and find enjoyment in the work itself and in the God who gave you that work. Just as God faithfully provides for us out of his great love, so also we can treat our time in the kitchen as an expression of our love for God and the people he’s given us.

Food as Fellowship

Try to think of the happiest earthly scene you can imagine. What comes to mind? A wedding? A baby being born? One of the first things I picture is a table full of people in fellowship with God and one another, nourishing themselves with the tastes and delights of a meal prepared for them.

As Christians, we can quickly move past the food, considering it an incidental need disconnected from the weightier realities of life. But food isn’t incidental to our fellowship with God and man. When we gather for the Lord’s Supper with his people, the bread and the wine are not an accident of providence; they are the appointed means of remembering and sharing in Christ. Similarly, when we gather around the table with our people at home, food is the appointed means of our nourishment and the signifier of our fellowship. Paul warns the Corinthians “not even to eat with” the so-called believer who is living in unrepentant sexual immorality (1 Corinthians 5:11). Why? Because eating together signifies fellowship.

But that time of sharing a meal around the table doesn’t just happen. It must be planned and prepared. This is, fundamentally, an echo of the work Christ does for us. He prepares a place for us, he gives himself for food, and he dresses himself for service at the table (Luke 12:37; John 6:35; 14:2). It is a privilege to prepare a meal for the people around our table, to provide something delicious best enjoyed in community. It is also a duty and a discipline. There are real skills involved in making food, not just good thoughts. There is real work to be done in the kitchen, not just idyllic sentiments. There are real messes to be cleaned up, not just picture-perfect social media posts.

Preparing and cooking food is a skill and an art. There is a reason why cooking schools exist and hardworking and talented chefs rise to fame. Grocery shopping within budget, understanding flavor profiles, becoming proficient in cuts of meat, learning how to balance a meal with side dishes, picking up skills in baking, tailoring the food choices to best serve your family’s or guests’ dietary needs, setting a welcoming table — these are the disciplines of preparing for fellowship. They are not ethereal; they are practiced. My mom’s menu binders didn’t drop on her lap from heaven. One person’s discipline paved the way to a party for dozens!

Joy Around the Table

Once the preparation is done — the table is set, the food is hot, the people are gathered — then the real work begins. We practice joy around the table. And while this sounds like the easy part, it is often where we trip up. We find we have become a little too like Martha in our preparing and are struggling to simply enjoy the kids’ antics and exchange a smile with our husband (Luke 10:38–42). Yet we happy women of Christ don’t need to wait until we’ve sat down at the table to start practicing our joy. We can let it drive our delight in the flavor profiles, the set table, and the new skills acquired for making a cinnamon roll. The same Lord and Savior who welcomes us to his table empowers us to welcome many in Jesus’s name.

Our joy should be like the oil drizzled on focaccia — overflowing the sides of the loaf, soaking every bite. It comes with us to the table and binds us together with God’s people. That is the kind of happy wife and mother whose presence makes the kitchen exactly where everyone wants to be. Why? Good food, joyful service, and the fellowship of Christ for all who would come.

Our union with Christ grants us every blessing of the Christian life and voids any pride we could take in our own strength. How could we boast in anything but God?

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