December 30, 2025 // Columns

Feasting for the Glory of God

Ken Hallenius

Santa Claus was very good to me this Christmas. Or at least my Secret Santa, acting on behalf of the good St. Nicholas, was very generous. I received a stack of long-desired books from my wish list, including one called “Cooking with the Saints,” by Ernst Schuegraf. Published in 2001 by Ignatius Press, the book is an impressive collection of treats, soups, entrees, and desserts celebrating 73 different saints, with ingredients and techniques drawn from the cultural traditions of Catholics from around the world.

Many of the recipes are for foods that would traditionally be served on a saint’s feast day, like the Swedish recipe for Santa Lucia’s Crown, a sweet pastry ring decorated with candles to represent the light that the virgin martyr’s feast on December 13 brings to the bleak midwinter. Some of the saints represented in the book are not well-known in our day, such as St. Hubert of Liège, the patron of hunters. His fame and cult were widespread in medieval and renaissance times, and nearly all 10 of the recipes listed in the book are preparations for wild game, as seems appropriate for a man renowned for his skill with bow and arrow prior to his conversion. Venison cutlets in a pepper sauce, anyone?

Food and drink are a fantastic way to connect our Catholic faith to our lives beyond the friendly confines of the parish building. I’m not breaking any news by pointing out that eating and drinking are both necessary for our very existence and, at the same time, sources of great pleasure and communion. Over the past several weeks, we’ve celebrated Thanksgiving and Christmas, which usually have at their center a festive meal with family and friends. And the heart of our worship as Catholics at every Mass is the re-presentation of a sacred meal shared in communion, the Last Supper that Jesus shared with His disciples in anticipation of His sacrifice on the cross. Every time we break the bread at the altar, we proclaim the death of the Lord Jesus, until He comes again.

When we sanctify our family life by doing simple things like preparing special foods associated with the holy men and women who’ve gone before us, we strengthen the connection between the altar in our parish church and the dinner tables in our homes. There’s a reason why we use the word “feast” in relation to the celebration of the saints: the Communion of Saints is not something we are meant to remember merely inside the church building, but each saint’s feast should be a celebration that brings joy and fellowship throughout the cosmos, no matter whether the setting is a mansion served by a cooking staff or a rickety dining table purchased at IKEA.

To celebrate the feasts of the saints with gusto is an invitation to extend our public prayer into our home life. Many families have specific foods and treats that are part of their own holiday traditions, like preparing the Feast of the Seven Fishes on Christmas Eve or enjoying a tasty Corpse Reviver cocktail after the Easter Vigil. I’ve incorporated several saint-related foods and traditions into my own life over the years. I like to eat ribs on the August 10 feast of St. Lawrence, the patron saint of cooks who was martyred on a grill. Since moving to South Bend, I have come to love scarfing down a prune-filled paczki on Mardi Gras. Even dishes that are related to saints in name only seem to taste better when eaten with the saint of the day in mind, such as eggs benedict on March 21 (or on his secondary feast, July 11) – or really on any day of the year, if you love hollandaise sauce like I do.

As Catholics, we recognize that there is more to the world than just what we can measure, see, and touch. There is an entire spiritual reality that is hidden from plain sight but visible through the eyes of faith. In his First Letter to the Corinthians, St. Paul wrote that “at present we see indistinctly, as in a mirror,” explaining that all shall be fully revealed when Christ returns (1 Cor 13:12). We can contribute to this remaking of the world and help to build the Kingdom of God by sanctifying our daily lives through our deliberate choices and actions. Even our meals, mundane though they may seem, can be a foretaste of the heavenly banquet where the saints are gathered around the altar to celebrate the wedding feast of the Lamb of God.

As we turn the calendar to a new year, in this time when each of us is already primed to make a new start, let us resolve to observe the feasts of the saints, to celebrate the holy men and women who handed the faith on to us. As you’re planning your menus throughout 2026, will you commit to sanctify your family table, one forkful at a time?