Better a bread crust served in love

There's a little gem (among many) tucked into the book of Proverbs that feels just right for this Thanksgiving week, but you really have to use The Message translation for it to hit right.

Proverbs 15:17 in the KJV says:

Better is a dinner of herbs where love is, than a stalled ox and hatred therewith.

?????

The CEB is a little better:

Better a meal of greens with love than a plump calf with hate.

But The Message translation brings it home with:

Better a bread crust served in love than a slab of prime rib served in hate.

There it is.

Better something meager served in love than something super fancy served up in hate.

So let go of the pressure of those Pinterest-perfect tables and those elaborate magazine menus. A crust shared in tenderness is worth more than a banquet served with resentment. A simple meal becomes a feast when it is offered with welcome. And the most elaborate feast is nothing but a shell if love gets pushed off the table.

This year, many of us are coming to Thanksgiving a little weary. We’re carrying grief for the suffering we see. We’re carrying anger at injustice. We’re carrying worry about the world our children and grandchildren are inheriting. We’re carrying frustration with divisions that make even a family dinner feel like navigating a minefield.

Here's the thing: you are allowed to bring your full, honest, God-created self to the table. I have the power to grant you permission to do so. Really. I do.

Just show up as you. But show up ready to love...or at least committed to try.

The song Crowded Table by The Highwomen, asks simply for this:

“I want a house with a crowded table … and a place by the fire for everyone.”

It’s a vision of hospitality that isn’t about the menu, the décor, or the Instagram-worthiness of the moment. It isn't even about making polite conversation or everyone getting along. It’s about making room. It’s about widening the circle. It’s about choosing the kind of love that Proverbs 15:17 points us toward—love that feeds us more deeply than the bestly-basted turkey ever could.

So if your Thanksgiving table feels small this year—emotionally, spiritually, or literally—remember this: a crust offered in love is more than enough.

And if your Thanksgiving table feels crowded but complicated—remember this: the Spirit moves even in uneasy conversations and love can exist in the midst of them.

And if you’re spending this Thanksgiving without a physical table to gather around, whether by circumstance or by choice—know this: God’s table has room for you. Always.

This week, find one small way to make more room—in your heart, in your conversations, in your prayers, or in your community. Invite someone in. Offer a word of kindness. Make space for someone overlooked. Let your table, whatever form it takes, reflect the wideness of God’s love.

May your Thanksgiving be full of love and always have room for one more.