I have bittersweet news to share with you today:
It is time to say goodbye to Edible Theology.
Now before you panic, let me ease any concerns that might be running through your mind:
I am not going anywhere.
My work is not going anywhere.
This Substack is not going anywhere.
While the branding and structure of my work is evolving—or rather, officially catching up to the ways it has already evolved—you can still expect to receive a newsletter in your inbox every Sunday morning. I’ll share more next week about the direction all of this is headed. I think you’ll find that it clarifies and coheres the disparate pieces of my work in a way that is simpler and more sustainable for me and also more accessible and more valuable for all of you.
As I shared last week, the past 9-10 years of building and growing Edible Theology have been beautiful and hard and hopeful and confusing. In many ways I stumbled into the brand, and while I love it, I’ve long sensed that it struggles to capture all of the nuances of my work. I’ve debated for years when and how to retire Edible Theology, but until now, the timing hasn’t quite felt right. Earlier this year though, the fuller picture came into focus. I’ve spent this summer taking the next steps in that direction with confidence it is what’s best for us all.
The changes coming allow me to bring together the best parts of the past decade. They also allow me to close a really hard chapter. I cannot express to you how much hope and relief this brings.
Before we look ahead at what’s to come, though, I’d like to take a beat to reflect on where we’ve been. The best way to honor Edible Theology, I’ve decided, is in the form of a eulogy. I considered for a moment holding a little Zoom funeral for her (channeling my inner Priya Parker, who I imagine would be very on board with the idea) but decided instead to contain my words to this space.
August 2017 — July 2026
Edible Theology was born in August of 2017 in the small attic bedroom of Kendall Vanderslice’s parent’s home. Updating her personal website to describe the work she aspired to do when she moved to Durham, North Carolina, the following week, Kendall decided this was the phrase that resonated most. It clarified that she was not interested in the agrarian theology presently dominating the food and faith conversation, but in an exploration of the ways that the act of cooking and eating teach us something about God and the life of faith.
In April of 2018, after finishing the manuscript for her first book, Kendall launched an email newsletter using the Edible Theology name. This newsletter quickly gained its first thousand subscribers, generating momentum for the release of We Will Feast.
After graduating from Duke Divinity School and embarking on a series of road trip book tours in the summer and fall of 2019, Kendall decided it was time to expand the Edible Theology impact. She built the Edible Theology Patreon community where she provided recipes and bread baking advice that flowed with the liturgical calendar. While the pandemic shutdowns of 2020 challenged the heart of her work—the importance of building richer, embodied communities around the table—it also revealed for others a hunger for the very kinds of material Edible Theology could create. In the summer of 2020, Edible Theology launched its first curriculum, a program designed to help churches foster community in the midst of lockdowns and to look ahead at new table-based rhythms for the months and years to come.
By the end of 2020, Kendall knew she needed to close down Edible Theology’s sister company—Companion Bread Share, a subscription bread bakery—in order to focus fully on Edible Theology’s growth. In January of 2021, Edible Theology released its second curriculum: Bake with the Bible, a six-lesson Bible study on bread in the Gospels. She also brought Kendall’s workshop on baking bread as a spiritual practice to Zoom, giving it the name Bake & Pray. These two programs sparked the momentum needed to keep the brand alive.
The week before Thanksgiving 2021, Edible Theology released the first episode of its podcast Kitchen Meditations, which was also an instant hit. The momentum grew faster than Kendall could sustain, and in the quest for stabilization, Edible Theology applied for 501c3 status. Edible Theology envisioned a six-week curriculum at the center of her being—a tool for Christians to build a better relationship to food and eating.
In the spring of 2022, Edible Theology launched an IndieGogo fundraiser to fund the creation of this program and the second season of Kitchen Meditations. After a rocky start, she readjusted her goals and this community rose to meet them—crossing the finish line in the final minutes of the fundraiser.
The following two years were filled with a mix highs and lows: they saw the release of By Bread Alone and Bake & Pray, collaborations with WeWelcome and the Porter’s Gate Worship Project, and an invitation to Beth Moore’s home to lead a Bake & Pray workshop with the Living Proof Ministries team. They also saw an array of disappointing fundraising dinners and rejected grant proposals.
In the summer of 2024, Edible Theology was forced to accept that her vision of a robust curriculum serving a wide range of churches would never come to fruition. Meanwhile, the Bake & Pray workshops were continuing to grow. Edible Theology released her 501c3 status and moved her weekly newsletter over to Substack, allowing Kendall to focus the majority of her time and energy on traveling to teach.
In the fall of 2024, Edible Theology gave birth to the Bake & Pray instructor training program, training others to lead Bake & Pray workshops across the country. She announced the birth of the Eucharist Pilgrimage in the spring of 2025 and launched her first line of merchandise that fall. At the same time, she began ideating a new program: Bake & Rest, a non-faith based workshop built on the same principles of tension, rest, curiosity, and joy that were the foundation of Bake & Pray.
Edible Theology came to her final rest in July of 2026 after a full and exhausting life. She served thousands of individuals through her curriculum and podcasts; she was continually humbled by the healing her work brought to those who engaged. Edible Theology is survived by her children, Bake & Pray and Bake & Rest, who look forward to carrying on her legacy in the years to come.
I know I say this often, but I truly am grateful for all of you who have been with me through the many different iterations of this work over the years. I can’t wait to share with you what is coming, but I don’t want to push ahead too soon. First, let’s honor what has been.
I’d love for you to share your own reflections on what Edible Theology has meant to you!
Please share in the comments how you came to know this work, and any resources or programs that have been meaningful to you. Let’s lay Edible Theology to rest with joy for the role she has served—and with hope for what’s yet to come!
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