Feasting on a Sacrifice
Babette’s Feast is a highly acclaimed Danish film from 1987, well-beloved by many Christians. The film centers around an aging Protestant community in Denmark which practices extreme austerity. The community’s founder has died, leaving two daughters who live with a French cook, Babette. One day Babette receives news that she has won the lottery for 10,000 francs, and begs to be allowed to spend the money on ingredients for a real French dinner, to celebrate the 100th anniversary of the founder’s birth. The sisters eventually agree, and Babette stages an elaborate five-course feast for the whole community. Horrified by the live turtles and other strange ingredients, the group agrees not to express any enjoyment during the feast. However, despite their extreme suspicion, they begin to relax and really enjoy themselves after a few courses (and a few excellent wines) have been served. Old quarrels are mended, and old loves reignite. After dinner, everyone leaves the house and begins to dance around the well in the center of the town, singing out the first real joy they have felt in a long time. The next day, the sisters are sure that Babette will return to France where, they have learned, she was once a famed chef; but Babette tells them that she spent her entire winnings on the feast and cannot afford to go. She had sacrificed a life of fame and chosen to remain a servant, for the chance to serve that wonderful meal which restored the community.
Babette’s Feast is often viewed as symbolic of holy communion. But the images of people smiling and laughing around a table with their tongues loosened by wine, or people holding hands and dancing in the snow after dark, feel very different from the solemnity of the Eucharist. The Last Supper, Jesus’ sacrificial feast, is overshadowed by the presence of Judas; and we know that immediately afterwards he will go to Gethsemane to mingle blood and sweat in the agony of his prayer. What does it mean, then, that the Eucharist is a “feast”? Is it appropriate to let joy be the primary feeling that it evokes?
Others have noticed the dissonance in Christian communities which value austerity, when it comes to the pleasure and fellowship that naturally arise during a good meal. In Wendell Berry’s novel Jayber Crow, Jayber complains about priests preaching against the pleasures of this life and then going over to a parishioner’s house for Sunday luncheon and praising the homemade biscuits. He recognizes that it is hard to practice what you preach, when you preach that it is wrong to enjoy things in this life. God made good food to taste good.
I would go even further, and argue that God chose a meal as His sacrament for good reason: sharing a meal is an universal human experience which draws people together and satisfies needs in a way that naturally brings joy and unity. God sanctified this behavior, and made the unity and joy that we find in communal meals into a holy thing which unites us together not just in an earthly community, but in His Body.
We call the Eucharist a “feast,” partially because it is the fulfillment of the feast of Passover. Passover was a full meal which reminded people of the suffering of the past, but also of God’s provision, and the community that He shepherded through time into the present. Feasts can be solemn, but they are also times when we appreciate God’s gifts by enjoying them together. Sorrow and death and even horror can be present in the same moment as real joy and pleasure. In fact, Jesus’ sacrifice opens up for us the most joyful experience that anyone could ever have: real unity with God’s self. When we come together to remember Christ’s death and receive His body, we are made whole and restored, as individuals and as a community. We are being taken once again into the joy of God’s presence, the joy of being renewed and made clean, the joy of receiving Love Himself. We can absolutely rejoice. God is adopting us, making us a part of His body. What could be more wonderful? Maybe in our particular churches it would be disruptive to dance or laugh aloud during the shared sacrificial meal, but reconciliation, joy, laughter, and dancing before the Lord are all sufficiently humble and appropriate responses to such a wonderful gift. The dancing and revelry in Babette’s Feast can help us to remember that God’s sacrifice for us is not only solemn, but joyful. Austerity and self-restraint have their place in the Christian life, but so do laughter and feasting.