Food has always played a central role in my life, especially my religious life.

Potluck dinners and ice cream suppers were practically the only reasons I attended church.

Like most teens, I paid little attention to the Sunday sermon. I daydreamed in the back pew, passed notes to friends and threw spitballs at my brother. Sunday mornings were my least favorite of the week — except those rare fifth Sundays of the year.

Depending on the time of the year, my church would either have a potluck lunch or and ice cream evening social on those fifth Sundays. They made up for all those interminable foodless Sundays.

On a fifth Sunday, I would be the first person in the family to be dressed and ready to go to church. After the service, I was the first to reach for the disposable plates and plastic silverware. As the preacher said the blessing, my eyes scanned the array of Pyrex cookware on the long stretch of folding tables lined up end to end.

Fried chicken, ham, green bean casserole, lime Jello, homemade rolls and baked beans were always to be expected. Sweet tea was a foregone conclusion.

Occasionally one of the younger mothers of the church might try some new recipe on the crowd — one that relied on some unusual ingredient like asparagus or parsnips. I usually stayed away from those creative dishes despite the “oohing” an “aahing” from the elderly women of the church.

Then there were the desserts. If I were lucky enough to spy a plate of brownies or cookies after Sunday school, I would sneak a bite or two before the service. But I always took an inventory of the desserts before piling my plate high with spaghetti casserole or mashed potatoes. Desserts trumped any main course.

Ice cream social Sunday was all the better, because it was nothing but dessert. There was nothing better than dipping a spoon into a canister of homemade frozen ice cream and filling my Styrofoam cup to brim with the ice-cold creamy concoctions.

It has been a while since I have been to a potluck dinner and an ice cream social in one day. Last Sunday I went to both — a potluck lunch at Grace United Methodist Church and an ice cream dinner at Kingston Methodist Church.

That first sight of food spread down the line of table in the Grace fellowship hall, brought back those wonderful childhood memories.

Despite being older, a little more patient in church and wiser to healthy eating, I still favor dessert over salad and those potluck stand-bys over those fancy creative dishes. I did taste the carrot soufflé and it was delicious.

As a child I thought very little past the food. I never considered the value of coming together as a church family and enjoying being together as a community.

As an adult, I realize that church dinners may fill more than our stomachs.

In church we talk a lot about the importance of communion and we gather at the Lord’s table to celebrate and remember the Last Supper. We sit in church and hear sermon after sermon about God calling us to celebrate both our diversity and unity — to be together.

Looking at the diverse array of foods lovingly prepared and freely shared at Grace and Kingston Methodist churches Sunday, I realized that in a small way those events are a examples of what we are called to be.

Ben Hillyer is the Web editor of The Natchez Democrat. He can be reached at 601-445-3551 or ben.hillyer@natchezdemocrat.com