
Image: Dinner at the home of Marcus & Helen Clemens, circa 1952. Courtesy of John L. Ruth.
The tradition of Sunday dinner with guests, thriving in our Mennonite (and larger) community as late as the early 1970s, was an expression of a communal spirit. It was an equally culinary and sacramental Sabbath experience. Now, except among the Plain People, it has been largely done in by individualism, business and restaurants, so says author John L. Ruth in “Remembering Sunday Dinners” in PA Dutch Companion.
Awaiting dinner
The men and boys and some of the other guests lounging in the living room or βparlorβ could be made weak in the knees by the promising aroma of roast beef. A metallic knocking signaled that potatoes were being mashed. Sometimes the hostess would put on a fresh apron. One Mennonite woman used to tie her apron strings in the front, making a neat bow before slipping it around to her back.
Then would come the call, followed by the men taking off their coats, and a flurry of choosing among the miscellany of chairs around a table that sometimes stretched room-length. Elbow room could be as minimal as in an airliner.
Silent grace
“Now children, put your hands down.β The long unannounced silence concluded only with the audible intake of breath by the host. βNow just reach and help yourselves,β said the hostess, who often remained standing at the kitchen-end of the table. βI donβt want anybody to go hungry.

Holiday desserts at the Delp farm, Franconia Township, 1950s. Courtesy of Phil Ruth.
After dinner
As the conversation ebbed (with children, plates cleaned, also staying in place), toothpicks were passed, to the considerable satisfaction of the dentally challenged elderly participants.
βWeβll return thanks,β inaugurated another silent prayer, possibly half as long as the earlier one.
With the clatter of dishes in the kitchen, the male component reconvened in the parlor, sometimes sharing cigars. Conversation could turn to farming, which might lead to a walk outside β the men viewing cattle and fields and the women the garden and flowers.
Note: John L. Ruth, historian, author, teacher, is a prolific writer, well known for his large tome, The Earth is the Lordβs: A Narrative History of the Lancaster Mennonite Conference.
My Sunday-dinner memory
Excerpt rom Chapter 6, βMy Two MothersβΒ Β Mennonite Daughter: The Story of a Plain Girl
A mistress of the culinary arts, Mom loved to entertain, thrilled to add leaves to her dining-room table for a dozen or more. Two sets of fine crystal stood in her corner china closet, one with etched-in lines near the lip, the other floral. The goblets and sherbets, along with ivory china with a silver scalloped edging, decorated the feast when Mother invited company. Five or six times a year, she sat at one end of the dining table close to the kitchen so she could serve a formal dinner. Always on Sunday. Usually after church. As a hostess, she wanted everything perfect. Once when I was helping, her fist flew to her mouth when she opened the oven to find the roast already done and the gravy bubbling like crazy on the stove. She probably wanted to swear (she never used curse words), but I sped up to keep the courses moving along, taking her agonized gesture as a scream for help.
After I left home, Mother and Aunt Ruthie continued sharing hospitality, here Aunt Ruthie’s Sunday School class of seniors at Bossler Mennonite Church circling her table.
Farm to Table(s)
Introducing Caran Jantzenβs new book:Β Grow, intentionally. Cook, passionately, Eat, thoughtfully. Share, generously
Caran Janzenβs memoir, the title words aligned with the four seasons, alighted on my writer radar, when she featured my book, along with other Mennonite memoirists (Canadian authors and at least two from the USA) on her website.
Now itβs my turn to showcase her book. . . .
Amazon Blurb:
Homesteading is not for the faint of heart–Caran Jantzen confesses in this honest memoir–although I have felt faint of heart often since homesteading. It is physically, mentally and emotionally taxing. Although falling into bed after a long day of outdoor laboring or indoor jam making has its appeal, to do this daily requires more than an acreage and a yearning for the country life. It demands equal parts grit and romance, seeing through both the sweat of my brow and through rose-colored glasses. I am still trying to decide if I have what it takes. . . .
You can find her book here on Amazon!
How have you experienced Sunday dinners?
What menu items stand out on these occasions?
Did you know about either authors featured here, historian John L. Ruth or Caran Jantzen?
Wonderful family dinner memories, esp. with my father’s parents…..Thank you, Marian!
I’m sure you could visualize those dinners when you read today’s post. Do you have any photos of these gatherings?
Thanks for commenting as “numero uno” reader today. π
Good morning, Marian!. Wonderful memories of wonderful times!
I didn’t grow up with a tradition of Sunday dinners, but I did enjoy other dinners–and Sunday brunch!
I know you cook and bake for family and friends, such a creative complement to your writing, I think. I’ve enjoyed your photos of challah and more during this season of Rosh Hashanah! Thanks, Merril.
Growing up, Sunday dinners were a tradition in our home. That said, during football season they were modified a bit.
Jill, I picture TV trays during football season. Am I right?
Lovely memories again. I love your family getting together every Sunday for lunch. My family was too large to sit at the table together on a daily basis, so we took turns: young children first, then older children and my parents. Christmas and New Year’s Eve were the exception, when we all sat together.
Well, Fatima, we didn’t get together every single Sunday, but we did quite often, especially with aunts, uncles, and cousins. I do remember the children’s table, often in the kitchen because they liked to be together and it also provided more elbow room for the adults in the dining room.
Thanks for sharing your memories! π
We often had large Sunday dinners at GrandmaΒ΄s house when I was young. They would usually feature a large ham, roast or chicken. I love the picture of all those pies! A tradition long gone.
Author John Ruth mentions that restaurant going is now often the fall-back these days, less work for the cook and no clean-up. However, gathering in homes still has a sweet nostalgia for me too. Thanks, Darlene!
Marian, I love the way you introduced this author by your discussion of Sunday dinners. (Love the photos by the way.) Congrats to Caran! Great title! Reminds me of Eat Pray Love. So lovely!
Growing up we had roast beef or roast chicken on Sunday evenings. Sometimes we would have ham. But ham was usually reserved for holiday meals. Also, sometimes relatives would come by. We had a lot of relatives in the area.
With your blogger’s eye, you notice how this blog evolved. Actually, my original intention was to just feature John Ruth’s work. Then, Caran Jantzen, referenced my book on her blog, and I saw a good tie-in thematically and also a way to promote her. You do the same thing, bless your generous heart!
And, yes, I thought about Elizabeth Gilbert’s book title too when I saw Caran’s cover. Thanks, L. Marie!
π
Oooh, this looks so delicious Marian and heart warming! I don’t remember Sunday lunches with grandparents but certainly with my parents. It was always an occasion. My sister always assisted my mother and from her learned her wonderful culinary skills, something on which I’m a little lean π … but I’m learning in these particular times π I like to prepare a delicious meal for Sunday lunches especially when the weather is warm and good, laying the table to make it pretty, and making the food look luscious and seeing people at my table tuck in … too often in spite of preparation I leave something inside the fridge and forget to take it out .. or even the oven (NOT the main meal of course)
I strikes me that as we are looking toward autumn, you are preparing for spring. I can imagine that you like attractive tables-capes too, maybe giving a nod to the seasons.
You mentioned sharpening your culinary skills during this time. You see all over the internet people booking and baking and sharing food, sometimes outdoors because of the virus. Home improvement too.
I smiled as you admitted to forgetting to serve something on the menu. I’ve done that more than once. So, my fix is to write the menu on a yellow sticky note taped to my kitchen cabinet. That way I won’t forget to take out the relish tray or fruit salad from the fridge. Thanks for sharing here, as always, Susan. π
Growing up we always went to my grandmothers house there was always food but we never sat at the table to eat together we were to many. It looked like a party. It was all family. I had an aunt Rosie who set the table everyday for dinner. I enjoyed my dinners at mom Longeneckerβs and aunt Ruthieβs. We also ate at the Wengerβs. Oh those are such special moments for me and my children. I also loved the the potlucks at Bossler church. How I praise God for loving me enough to be bring me into this family. I work hard at holding on to those teachings and pass on to all I encounter.
Thank you Marian such great post.
Gloria, it’s SO good to see you again. Yes, I guess I took for granted the abundance of food we had and all the loving people to share it with. At least we have precious memories, you and I, of eating at two Longenecker tables + fellowship meals at Bossler’s.
Thanks for checking in; I’m glad we still have a connection here. π
Yes, I love to remember Sunday dinners with all the home grown and hommemade flavors and the elbow room and walks in gardens. Sharing cigars never happened in my memories.
I also love the feast of Mennonite authors you got me looking into. Thank you.
Although you live close to the city, I can tell you like things home-grown, maybe even a hen or two. Before the Brunk Revivals came through Lancaster County, many farmers like my Uncle Landis grew tobacco, hence the cigars.
Thanks for clicking onto Caran’s page, Dolores. I think you would like reading her memoir. π
I was taught to tie my apron on in the way mentioned above. I haven’t worn an apron in decades but if you handed me one today, that’s how I’d put it on.
My mother made big Sunday dinners, but coming from a tiny family they weren’t quite as lavish as the ones shown here. I love those photos, btw. Talk about a glance back in time.
Ally, I was surprised to read about this apron-tying maneuver on John Ruth’s blog, new to me. I’m glad this post summoned pleasant memories. Gee, thanks!
I was charmed and pleased to hear my young niece and her husband as they talked about reviving the Sunday dinner tradition at their rented place in the country, soon after their first child was born. My mother never liked preparing them but we enjoyed hosting and setting the table and helping out. Still, the main responsibility certainly rested on her and other female shoulders at the time. π
When I thought about posting a food-flavored theme, I thought about your What Ever Happened to Dinner, one of many books with recipes you’ve published: https://www.amazon.com/Whatever-Happened-Recipes-Reflections-Mealtime-ebook/dp/B005NGJ4XK/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=whatever+happened+to+dinner&qid=1600888150&s=books&sr=1-1
Thanks again for sharing your thoughts here. Yay, for your niece’s initiative in keeping family get-togethers alive. π
Marian, thanks for sharing some of John L. Ruthβs work and photo. In modern times we have become too busy and just want to have Sundays to ourselves. Then Covid came along and reminds us how precious it is to have time with other people across our tables.
Our mother usually had a roast chicken or beef dinner with all the trimmings on Sundays after church. She put the chicken in before we left for church and the kitchen smelled so good when we got home. Since we were 10 people with just our family we usually didnβt have dinner guests, but very often the guests were invited for βFaspaβ (Low German word for a late afternoon get together) which usually included coffee, βZwiebackβ or buns of some sort, various cold cuts, cheeses and pickles. Visitors wore their Sunday clothes. Mothers and home makers certainly had their work cut out for them on Sundays, but they were always so cheerful about it!
This morning I shared this post on another Facebook group page: The Mennonite Game, and a Canadian women mentioned Faspa, which I had never heard of before: https://www.facebook.com/search/top?q=the%20mennonite%20game
On another note: This morning I looked up and saw a plane many miles up in the air and thought about how wonderful it would be to fly to Pennsvlvania and visit with my sister and other relatives. It would be nice to see the leaves too, but I doubt that will happen this fall. Of course, we’d have lunches and dinners together . . . when the time is right. Thanks again for sharing, Elfrieda! π
Mama was the youngest of ten children and Dad next to the youngest of eight… With aunts, uncles and cousins by the dozens, our family share many Sunday and holiday dinners with many of them. My childhood was full of family and the precious memories that were made. <3 Enjoyed your post and share, Marian. Thanks to Mama, Sunday dinners were always extra special even when spent at home with Mama, Daddy and four siblings of which I was the eldest. We never sat down to a meal without asking the blessing first! Thanks for the memories… xo
Thanks for commenting here with your inspiring memories, Bette. I’m happy to hear that you asked a blessing on the food. For a while the Metzler side of my family said two blessings: the first, a grace to begin the meal and the second was called “returning thanks,” for the ability to eat/digest food, I guess. The hostess was always happy with a well-fed crowd. π
I know some churches have a hostess who is responsible to invite visitors who may show up at their church services on Sunday morning. Since we fix a lot of food for others we will invite others from the brotherhood to come share the meal with us. We end up with long tables stretched out – like in the tip pic – all set with nice dishes…It is rare that visitors will visit our church with no scheduled place to go for lunch on Sunday but it is keeping this tradition alive – we take turns being hostess.
Welcome, Sandra. Your tradition echoes the one that was practiced when my mother was still at Bossler Mennonite Church. There were members who volunteered to feed and entertain the guests if they were visiting church but had no family. What a great way to show brotherly love. Do visit again! π
Thank you for this post! You certainly specialize in the nostalgic arts. Is that Simon Kraybill at the end of the Bossler table?
You’re welcome, Conrad. Yes, I think you are right: Simon Kraybill seems to be at the end of the table close to the bay window.
My blog posts were a bridge to my memoir, both a nostalgic and a realistic look at my past. I’ve continued with that “brand” as readers seem to enjoy it, especially now during these troubled times.
You have a treasury of photos from your years in Mennonite land. I am amazed at how many your have accumulated over the years. Your Facebook readers certainly enjoy them. Thanks for stopping by with a comment today. π
Looks like good times Marian. Those were quite the large gatherings. And those pies looked yummy! π
You know, Debby, when we are young, we imagine all families are sort of like our own, but it isn’t so. Your observations are spot on, good times, yummy food. Thanks!
For sure Marian, kind of like ‘the grass is always greener on the other side’ – but often it’s an illusion. π
So True!
Marian, I had to chuckle as I recalled our own family dinnersβthe men in the living room, playing cards while the women slaves away! Family dinners are a treasure. As awful as this pandemic is, perhaps a silver lining is the resurrection of mote family time.
Even with masks on inside, or open air on the patio, we can get together these days. I sure miss my Pennsylvania family though and hope to get on a plane (imagine that!) and travel to see my sister and other relatives. Yes, Kathy, there is a silver lining in all this! ((( )))
Hi Marian – thanks for sharing the Mennonite Sunday dinner memories and for introducing me to the Ruth family. Those pies and cakes look delicious – so many, too! I also enjoyed your excerpt about your own Sunday dinner memories. So many last things to attend to with a big crowd at the table. Thanks, too for featuring Caran Jantzen – sounds like she and her family are living the perfect life!
Thanks for checking in here, Barbara. I’m glad you enjoyed the post and gave a nod to Caran too. I believe she and her husband are transplants from the city; they wanted their children to enjoy country life. In all of the busy-ness, she managed to publish a memoir last year, which I find remarkable! π
Those are some large family dinners! Wow. We never came close to that size of table, except maybe at Christmas, and then not every year. We had Sunday dinner every week, but much smaller affairs. Almost always roast beef and mashed potatoes with gravy. We have Sunday dinners now – numbers of attendants vary, as does the menu.
Thanks for your mini-family history of Sunday dinners here. I am SO impressed with your keeping up the tradition nowadays. I wonder if you host them or if you take turns. Anyway, very impressive, Arlene! π
It’s wonderful to have those memories as well as the photographs that captured those times. It’s interesting how our past generations influence our current one even though we may have moved on from some of the traditions were grew up. We always had Sunday dinner in the formal dining room when I was growing up. Now I don’t have a formal dining room as it isn’t quite as popular anymore, but I miss it!
Ah, thanks, Lynn for stopping by here with a comment.
Yes, though I am no longer Mennonite, I still proudly bear the imprint of a close community culture. I still have a formal dining room, but since our children have taken over hosting most of our get togethers, my table has become a form of amusement, dressing it up with table-scapes, reflecting the seasons. π
Very timely post, Marian, as we just celebrated my father-in-lawβs 90th birthday today with a small socially-distanced family party outside. Mark and I (and his brother and his wife) are exhausted after an entire day of cooking, hosting, serving, and cleaning up! But, it was nice to have most of the family together.
My mind is so warped… Every time I see a photo with lots of people together, especially without masks, I cringe. Almost forgetting these photos were taken in the past. (Despite the telltale dress code.) The same happens when I watch a movie and people hug! I wonder how long our minds need to turn that around again one day.
A homesteading lifestyle sounds intriguing. I think Mark would be up for trying it one day. Me? Not so sure. I donβt want to grow roots anywhere. My own of those of vegetables. π
As you well know, life is so much about tradeoffs, Liesbet. One good thing about being rooted for now is the ability to say Happy Birthday and honor your father-in-law in person although I know getting ready for a party (and the cleanup too) is a lot of work. Wow – age 90!
You are right, our minds are experiencing varying degrees of trauma right now because of the pandemic. My daughter-in-law, an art therapist, says many of her clients are feeling anxiety and OCD problems which therapy can help minimize.
Here’s to the nomadic life continuing soon. ;-0
Lovely big dinners!
Thank you, Fiona!
Oh. That. Table. Of. DESSERTS!!
Laurie, I wonder if the host at the writers’ retreat in INDELIBLE serves such desserts. I suspect some of the characters in your novel get their “just desserts”! π
Marian β You suspect correctly π
Lovely images of family dinners , Marian we still eat at the table every evening it is something instilled in me…not so many now as in the past when I remember my grandmother covering a plank with a blanket and putting it atop of two chairs one either end so all of the children could sit at the table there never seemed to be enough chairs…lol…but happy times…I love the nostalgia of your posts π
Carol, you are to be congratulated for eating at the table every evening. We insisted on it when the children were growing up at home. Now I think they, and we, are more lax about it.
Thanks for sharing the memory of your grandmother fashioning a home-made bench, just so everyone could sit together. I’m glad you enjoyed the post. π
I’m running late these days. The world has taken the wind out of my sails, but I’m finally here.
This reminds me so much of the Sunday family dinners after church prepared by my grandma. She did almost everything since my mom wasn’t much of a cook. But the harvest dinners and holiday dinners were big with long tables and often outside. I remember lots of homemade biscuits, gravy, fried chicken, and pies.
I don’t know either of the authors you suggest, but understand eating food grown locally or at home–by my grandma and now by me, although I grow less than I once did and get a small weekly share from a local organic farm to supplement my needs. Here’s to healthy eating, healthy soils, and healthy farmers. My community here had wonderful feasts for years, but that didn’t happen this summer. I miss gathering around food.
Gathering around food (and without needing masks) would be balm for the soul, as I’m sure you would agree. I’m glad we share memories of such gatherings in our younger days.
About the “times out of joint.” Most of the time I feel with it, and then comes a day when I feel totally “out of it.” Yes, these days it’s probably normal to feel that the wind has been taken out of our sails. I’m glad you have good eating available and hope for community feasts for you next year, Elaine.