Have you ever thought about your last supper? 

Being the foodie that I am and an avid meal planner, I’m surprised and a bit curious why I have not considered my last meal before. (Editor’s note: Anna Lisa Gross also explored this topic on April 3.)  It is perhaps a bit of a morbid contemplation that requires confronting mortality, and as a society we tend not to talk about death and dying. Our death denial is ironic since death is inevitable. 

There isn’t avoiding death this week in our Christian religious calendar. It is Holy Week, where we come face-to-face with death, recounting the death of Jesus. His death was the result of what we now call capital punishment – the state-sanctioned killing of a person convicted of  a crime. 

Death-row last meals are a fascination to many, blending the horrifying with the human. It remains a long-standing ritual in many cases for individuals headed to execution to choose the foods they’d like, in a last act of agency. Eating is a relatable, everyday act that is often a reflection of personality, preferences and nostalgia. Perhaps part of our curiosity around the final meal ritual is what it might reveal about the condemned. 

Having the benefit of hindsight, we know Jesus was condemned to die when he sat down with the disciples. We’ve titled that part of the story; we call it “The Last Supper.” Jesus knew it too, even if those eating with him did not. This was to be his final meal. 

I’m mindful that this reflection will be published on Maundy Thursday, the day when we remember Jesus’ last supper with his disciples. There is no record of the menu; however, archaeologists investigating the eating habits in Jerusalem at the time of Jesus suggest his last supper likely included bean stew, lamb, olives, bitter herbs, fish sauce, unleavened bread, dates and aromatized wine. 

While the exact menu is an educated guess, I feel certain of the humility with which it was shared. Jesus’ giving thanks, sharing communion and washing the disciples’ feet are humble acts of love and service that infused everything and everyone at that supper. 

I want a humility of love to infuse my last supper, and I like the idea of a bean stew a lot. Humble and healthy, it honors how I treat my body as a temple, and I am mindful that plant-based proteins go farther in feeding the hungry. Plus, I really, really like them. There is something satisfying about these simple stews. I have fond memories of going to church on Good Friday for a simple soup and bread supper, followed by a somber service where we left in silence.

Now that I’ve spent some time pondering this, a next question emerges: What if your last meal was your last meal?

I wonder how many of us will actually know the exact timing of our death or be able to make a conscious choice of our final meal, so that begs this second question. How do I live in a way now, mindful to this moment and this meal, as a reflection of who I am, so that the legacy of my last meal is meaningful and marks me as a modern-day disciple of Christ?

RECIPE

Split Pea Soup

Split pea soup is a humble soup that satisfies and makes a simple supper. This recipe is in the running for my choice of a last supper meal. In the meantime, it’s one that I will serve in remembrance of Jesus’ last supper, alongside some fresh bread.

Ingredients

• 1 tablespoon oil
• 1 onion, chopped
• 2 carrots, chopped
• 2 celery stalks, chopped
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 2 cups split peas
• 8 cups vegetable broth or water
• 1 bay leaf
• ½ teaspoon dried thyme, or 1 fresh sprig 
• ¼ teaspoon smoked paprika (optional)
• Salt and pepper to taste

Instructions

1. Heat oil in a soup pot with a lid (I like using my Dutch oven). Add onion, carrots and celery. Cook, stirring often, until onion becomes translucent and vegetables are tender, about 5-7 minutes. Add garlic, stirring for about 30 seconds. 
2. Add remaining ingredients: split peas, broth, bay leaf, thyme and smoked paprika, if using. Bring to a boil, reduce heat, cover and simmer for one hour or until split peas are tender.
3. Remove bay leaf, and, if using fresh thyme, the sprig. Season with salt and pepper to taste.
4. Optional: Pureé with an immersion blender either all or just halfway, if you like a creamier consistency. Personally, I like the texture and don’t bother with this step.

Note: Split peas and ham have historically been paired together, so feel free to simmer this soup with some added ham or sprinkle bacon on top as a garnish, if you’d like. Adding the optional paprika will add smokiness to substitute for a smoked ham bone.