I’ve attended, planned, and observed countless parties over the years. Birthdays, weddings, corporate events, church celebrations – you name it. And I’ve always been fascinated by one question: What makes a party fun?
As someone who often pays attention to the programme, the stage activities, the flow of events, I used to think entertainment was king. A great MC, engaging performances, well-timed speeches – surely these were what made or broke an event.
But I’ve noticed something curious: my criteria for a “good party” rarely matches what most guests remember.
The Food Factor
I’ve been part of parties where, frankly, the stage programme was boring. Nothing particularly engaging happening. Speeches dragged. Performances fell flat. Yet at the end, guests would leave with glowing remarks: “What a fantastic party! I really enjoyed myself!”
When I’ve probed further – genuinely curious what they found so enjoyable – the answer almost always comes back to the same thing:
The food.
“The jollof rice was excellent.”
“Did you try the small chops? Amazing.”
“They really catered well. Nobody went hungry.”
Both children and adults make this judgement. Ask a child what they enjoyed most about a party, and before mentioning the bounce house or the games, they’ll tell you about the cake and ice cream. Ask an adult, and before commenting on the décor or the music, they’ll rate the buffet.
At first, this frustrated me. Really? That’s all it takes? Good food?
But then I came across a passage in Scripture that stopped me in my tracks.
Moses, Elders, and a Meal with God
Exodus 24:9-11 describes one of the most profound moments in biblical history:
“Moses and Aaron, Nadab and Abihu, and the seventy elders of Israel went up and saw the God of Israel… They saw God, and they ate and drank.”
Read that again.
These men went up Mount Sinai. They encountered the presence of Almighty God – the Creator of heaven and earth, the One who had just delivered Israel from Egypt with signs and wonders. They saw God.
And what did they do?
They ate and drank.
The text doesn’t elaborate on deep theological discussions they had. It doesn’t describe worship songs they sang or prophetic declarations they made. It simply says: they saw God, and they ate and drank.
Why would Scripture record it this way?
The Theology of the Table
Here’s what I’m learning: There is something profoundly human – and profoundly sacred – about eating together.
Food is never just food. Meals are never just meals.
When we eat together, we’re doing more than consuming calories. We’re:
- Creating space for connection. Conversation flows more naturally around a table.
- Expressing care. Providing food says, “I thought about your needs.”
- Building memory. We remember meals more vividly than we remember speeches.
- Establishing equality. Everyone eats. Rich and poor, young and old – we all need food.
- Honouring presence. Sharing a meal says, “I value your company enough to slow down and be with you.”
Jesus knew this. Some of His most significant moments happened around tables. The Last Supper. Eating with tax collectors and sinners. Breakfast with the disciples after His resurrection. Feeding the five thousand.
The Kingdom of God is often described as a banquet. Heaven’s celebration includes a wedding feast.
Food matters.
What We Get Wrong About Events
As event planners, party hosts, or even church leaders, we often prioritise the programme over the provision.
We invest heavily in:
- The keynote speaker
- The stage design
- The entertainment
- The lighting and sound
And we treat food as an afterthought. “Just get something cheap. People won’t remember it anyway.”
Except they will. Because they always do.
I’m not saying the programme doesn’t matter. Of course it does. But perhaps we’ve been measuring success by the wrong metrics.
A party isn’t successful because the MC was brilliant. It’s successful because people felt welcomed, cared for, and satisfied.
And few things communicate that better than good food, served generously.
The Danger of Snobbery
Here’s where I have to check myself: there’s a subtle pride in dismissing people’s focus on food.
“They only cared about the jollof rice. How shallow.”
But is it shallow? Or is it deeply, authentically human?
When someone says, “The food was great,” they might actually be saying:
- “I felt valued as a guest.”
- “The host was generous and thoughtful.”
- “I didn’t leave hungry or disappointed.”
- “This felt like a celebration, not just an event.”
Food is one of the most tangible expressions of hospitality. And hospitality – true hospitality – is an act of love.
Maybe the people who rate parties by the quality of food aren’t being superficial. Maybe they’re recognising something we’ve overcomplicated: good hospitality meets people’s physical needs first, then everything else follows.
A New Metric for Success
So what if we flipped our priorities?
What if, instead of obsessing over whether the programme was flawless, we asked:
- “Did people feel welcomed?”
- “Were their basic needs met?”
- “Did they leave satisfied?”
- “Would they come back?”
What if we planned parties – and churches, and events – with the same generosity God shows us?
After all, when Moses and the elders encountered God on the mountain, they didn’t just receive commandments and covenant terms. They received communion. They ate. They drank. They experienced God’s provision in the most human way possible.
And that, apparently, was significant enough for Scripture to record.
Bringing It Home – Literally
This principle doesn’t just apply to parties and events. It starts at home.
I’ve noticed something troubling: many families today are so busy they don’t eat together anymore. Dining tables have become study desks or places to drop car keys. Meals are grabbed individually – one person by the couch watching TV, another standing at the kitchen counter, children eating in their rooms.
We’ve lost the table.
And in losing the table, we’ve lost something essential. Because eating together isn’t just about nutrition – it’s about connection. It’s where children learn to communicate, where parents stay aware of what’s happening in their children’s lives, where family culture is built one meal at a time.
If we can’t create space to eat together in our own homes, how can we truly understand the power of shared meals in our gatherings and celebrations?
The best parties start with families who already know how to sit, eat, and be present with one another.
Final Thought
I’m still learning to appreciate what most people instinctively understand: A great party is one where you’re fed well.
Not just physically, but holistically. Where the food is good, yes – but also where the atmosphere is warm, the company is genuine, and you leave feeling like you mattered.
Maybe that’s what makes a party truly memorable. Not the stage. Not the speeches. But the simple, sacred act of breaking bread together.
Just like Moses and the elders did.
On a mountain.
In the presence of God.
Reflection Questions
- What’s your criteria for a “good party”? Is it the entertainment, the food, the company, or something else?
- Have you ever dismissed someone’s focus on food as shallow? What if their appreciation for good food is actually an appreciation for good hospitality?
- If you’re planning an event, where do you invest most of your budget and attention? Is there a balance you need to reconsider?
- What does the Exodus 24 passage teach you about how God views eating together? Does it change how you think about meals and gatherings?
- When was the last time you felt truly cared for at an event? What made you feel that way?
Let me know your thoughts in the comments. I’m genuinely curious how others think about this.
