Food has an inextricable place in our lives, we must eat or we die. But food is more than that. Food is connection. It is pleasure and comfort. We gather around food before a birth and after a death. Food is the centerpiece of hospitality. In Christianity we partake in the Last Supper. Just bring up food and anyone can join in the conversation.

As part of the Food For Thought sermon series, Cherry Hills member Monte Johnson, owner of Cañon Catering, sat down for an interview about food and its role in his service to Christ.

From Milk to Solid Food: Nourishment for Body and Soul
by Caroline F. Daniel

That each of them may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all their toil—this is the gift of God. Ecclesiastes 3:13 (NIV)

In I Corinthians, the apostle Paul refers to the Christians at Corinth as, “…mere infants in Christ. I gave you milk, not solid food, for you were not yet ready for it. Indeed, you are still not ready.” At Cherry Hills, have we “got milk?” Or are we nourished by the solid food provided by a mature life with Christ?

One member of Cherry Hills who knows a lot about solid food is Monte Johnson. He was an eight-year-old boy growing up in Kansas when he accepted Christ, and while his mom was a good cook there was nothing really fancy, just a Midwest kind of cuisine. The Johnsons didn’t eat out much, occasionally the Red Lobster for a special meal. But in Las Cruces, New Mexico, on a visit to see his aunt and uncle, the young Monte tasted red chili pork and a chef was born. “It was delicious, but at that point I’d never had anything so hot, just searingly hot. I couldn’t stop eating it,” he laughs, “but I was getting more and more miserable with every bite.”

As he was growing up, Monte savored the roast duck at the award winning Karl Ratzsch’s Restaurant in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. In Wichita, Kansas, he delighted in Tournedos Oscar at Chef Antoine Toubia’s Olive Tree Restaurant.

In 1989, Monte married Debbie and he began cooking their meals on a regular basis. They were living in Charlotte, North Carolina, attending an inner city church where Monte taught Sunday school, and he was working in menswear retail, which was gradually becoming more frustrating. Monte prayed for another direction in his life. God’s answer took them closer to family in Denver, Colorado, and for Monte to start culinary school.

“To get through the move and the whole career change was difficult,” Monte says, “but as we went along we could see that God continued opening doors, and that’s what allowed us to launch our catering business right out of culinary school.”. Along with the success, however, came a sense of loss. “In Charlotte, working with the Sunday school kids was fulfilling because you always knew where you stood with them. But by moving to Denver, we lost all that.”

Then one Sunday in church Monte heard an announcement about a ministry for kids in their late teens living in troubled homes or on the streets: Prodigal Coffee House, an outreach of Mile High Ministries. “It was a way to connect with kids. The coffee house was a stern, yet soft ministry, a place for them to hang out,” Monte says. “We’d ask ourselves how we should challenge them, but what they needed most was for us just to listen.” In ways, the ministry at Prodigal Coffee House was about giving back. It was there that Tony, a young man on staff, helped Monte get over the hump of the promotional side of Cañon Catering by teaching him specific computer skills. “He helped me make newsletters, taught me what was possible and helped me be independent.”

The solid food aspect of the ministry came, however, one typical Thursday night when instead of the usual cookie and brownie mixes left in the cupboards, Monte found pasta, ground beef and veggies in the coffee house refrigerator. “I knew immediately that we needed to make pasta. The aroma of sautéed onions and garlic filled the room, and we had an audience right away. That night I ate pasta with a kid whose street name was Wolf, and I learned more about him that night than in all the previous nights I’d seen him there.”

What Wolf needed was solid food, literally and figuratively, provided by a man who would sit and eat with him. “That night changed me and opened my eyes to how I can serve God’s purpose and, in this instance, connect with a kid that just needed someone to listen.” The Prodigal kids were always hungry, for food and for spiritual nourishment. “They let their guard down when they were eating,” Monte says, “They were able to share of themselves.” Prodigal Coffee House did eventually close its doors, but later Mile High Ministries would buy an old motel and turn it into a transitional housing facility for the poor and marginalized of Denver: Joshua Station.

“Joshua Station,” Monte says, “is a structured approach, taking people from homelessness to being part of a community.” He knew he wanted to give it a go and prayed that he would be able to stick with it. “As Americans, we tend to have a bootstrap mentality. You know, the “just go get a job” mentality. But the truth is that their problems are so entwined in their lives, how can they just pick themselves up by their bootstraps?” How do you feed a family when the only oven you’ve got is a microwave? The residents desperately need the benefits of community, solid food so to speak, so every Thursday evening they eat dinner together as a community, family style, sitting around tables.

After more than four years, you’ll still find Monte at Joshua Station, on a Thursday evening, every other month or so. The residents enjoy a buffet, with Monte serving the entrée at the end of the line. He sees every face, every kid, allowing him to talk to all of them. “I can see it from an overview,” Monte says, “and I’ve seen it change a lot. Four years ago there were a lot of dads, but I don’t see too many grown men go through the line these days. What I do see is a lot of single moms who need this desperately. I just don’t know how they do it.”

Some of the residents don’t speak English very well, but solid food always brings people together. One mother found a translator to tell Monte how much she enjoyed the meal, the fresh tomatoes, peppers and onions. Monte finds serving dinner to people who don’t take three meals a day for granted an amazing experience. “It’s not just the food they associate you with,” he says, “it’s the entire experience.”

Monte feels that the Joshua Station residents, like the kids at the coffee house, are able to let their guard down when they sit down and eat dinner with the volunteers and staff. “What happens over a meal at Joshua Station is more highly valued, especially when at one time you didn’t know if you were going to ever have it again.”

Monte notes that his children, Garret and Jillian, are better served when they see him serve, his humility, his example as a Christian man. Monte uses his kids’ observations of the Joshua Station families to help them develop empathy. One Thursday night, Garrett made the comment, “That one kid was out of control.” His dad took this moment of open communication to ask the important questions, “How do you think it is at home for that kid? How would you get out of that situation?”

Occasionally there is a bit of mischief: with butter, for example. “We were heading home for the night and found butter smeared on the door handle of the car,” Monte laughs. “It was two little boys, around 5-6 years old. They disappointed the staff, but we were tickled, as they just struck us as "boys being boys."

As much as Monte provides nourishment for body and soul, he too is nourished by the solid food served by a life in Christ. “You may be tired when you get there, but you leave refreshed because this is important in a way unlike anything that’s coming tomorrow. The reward is being there and getting to be a part of this.”