The centrality — and sacredness — of a shared table
While the kids are at school, Asia’s Hope staff gather for lunch in Wiang Pa Pao, Thailand.
Scroll through my photos and you might mistake me for a mere epicure, a wannabe food photographer — or some guy with midlife ambitions of opening a noodle shop and writing cookbooks in his spare time.
But that’s not it.
The truth is, I do spend a lot of time thinking about food — photographing it, preparing it, talking about it, celebrating it — because food isn’t just fundamental. For me, it’s sacred. It’s not just about fuel. It’s about culture, family, and love.
Scripture is filled with stories of meals that shape identity and reveal divine truth. Abraham welcomes strangers with a feast, only to discover they are messengers of God. In Exodus, Israel is formed into a people over a shared meal — the Passover — a recurring act of remembrance and deliverance.
In the Gospels, Jesus dines with outcasts, breaking social taboos to make room at the table for the excluded. His first miracle is at a wedding feast. His final evening with the disciples is spent around a supper table.
And the Kingdom of God itself? Jesus says it’s like a banquet — a wedding feast where the poor, the broken, and the marginalized are honored guests.
In my travels across Asia, I’ve seen institutional orphanages where hundreds of children line up cafeteria-style, served rations by an ever-rotating roster of shift workers — people who will never know their names, much less their stories.
That’s not good enough.
At Asia’s Hope, we celebrate the centrality of the shared table.
We don’t invite children into an institution; we welcome them into a family. Our home parents shop for their own food. They cook dinners as a family. And when guests visit or special occasions arise, we feast.
Barbara Coloroso puts it beautifully:
“There is something profoundly satisfying about sharing a meal. Eating together, breaking bread together, is one of the oldest and most fundamentally unifying of human experiences.”
Michael Pollan echoes the sentiment:
“The shared meal elevates eating from a mechanical process of fueling the body to a ritual of family and community — from mere animal biology to an act of culture.”
And Jesus himself says,
“Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him, and he with me.” (Revelation 3:20)
Isaiah prophesies,
“On this mountain the Lord Almighty will prepare a feast of rich food for all peoples…”
— a promise fulfilled in the long-anticipated wedding supper of the Lamb. (Isaiah 25:6, Revelation 19:9)
Over the past couple of years, I’ve spent time discerning and articulating the cultural values that exemplify Asia’s Hope at its best: Hospitality. Simplicity. Hope. Delight. And the fullest, most memorable expressions of these values are found in the kitchen or around the table.
I’d love for all of you to experience this in person at Asia’s Hope. But since that’s not possible, I hope my photos and stories will give you a glimpse — a taste — of what it means to be welcomed. To be loved. To belong.
Taste and see that the Lord is good — and that He is providing bountifully for His precious kids at our 35 children’s homes in Cambodia, Thailand, and India.
A few pictures from my last few days with the kids and staff of Asia’s Hope Thailand…
