God of Yeast and Grain,
God of the mixing bowl’s boundaries and the hearth’s transformative fire,

Nourish us.

Give us our daily bread, not more, not less.
Not just for me, not just mine, not even just for the people I so easily love
But be bread for us all.

Give us our daily dose of the extraordinary baked into the ordinary,
Give us the elements of life;
grown in the sun and the rain
nourished in earth and tended by the farmer’s hand,
ground and kneaded,
a miracle in each bite.

Give us our daily bread,
nothing fancy, processed or secretly cauliflower,
not modified to be palatable, easy or extra;
just real.

Give us what is
essential,
shared,
broken and perfectly whole.

Give us our daily bread,
knead our hearts into people that would put the leaf in the table,
found the feast and throw the doors open wide.

May it be so. Amen.

—

When Lila was little, her daycare teachers taught her sign language and the word I remember most was, “more.” And while she never wanted “more” food at home, right here in the Abbey, she would draw her little fingers together when the ritual of communion began. From the table each week, I could see her, signing, “more.” I would break the bread and she would sign, “more.” I would give the instructions on how to come to the table and she would sign, “MORE.” I would name that everyone is welcome and she would start making sounds (like I had not seen her) … “MORE.” Occasionally, she cried all while signing, “MORE,” because the liturgy must have seemed endless and she wanted “more" now. When she could walk, she frequently stood at my side…receiving a little communion before and a little communion during and a little more after everyone had come to the table.

A toddler signing, “more” at the table is probably one of the most profound theological statements about communion I will have the privilege to witness. Communion has that particular taste, the yeasty bread and the tart grape. The ritual that celebrates the extraordinary and ordinary at once and reminds us we all belong at God’s table and that we are all sent to be nourishment for each other. Bread was at the heart of Jesus’ ministry. The lively stories and teachings happen at table. The lesson of pausing to break bread, the lesson of including folks not welcome at other tables, and the final moments at table where he shares his bread and life with those who would betray and deny just as he did with those who stand by at the cross to bear witness to his justice-seeking life. I think his favorite table was in Bethany, the home of Martha, Mary and Lazarus. Jesus seems the most relaxed there, it’s his anchor in and out of heavy moments and brushes with authority. I imagine them as his family, the kind of family that you make out of friends.

For Jesus the table is holy and the bread is holy, rather than what is set apart in a temple or managed by a high priest. Bread is holy because Jesus, as Obery Hendricks says, treats peoples’ needs as holy. Everyday needs are holy. Daily bread is sacred, essential to life abundant. Jesus learned this from the prophets and psalmists who went before him and he lived it. He did more that talk about yeast in the bread and kneading dough, he tells Peter to feed my sheep and Peter, by that point, knows he really means it. He invited his disciples to see the everyday needs as holy and to respond. Jesus feeds people at his small table and he feeds people in mass on hillsides.

My favorite telling of this is John 6 when the disciples remind Jesus to let the crowds go home before dinner gets too close and Jesus tells them to take care of it. They must have felt astonished that he would ask this and so late in the game, it wasn’t in the plan and it's a lot of logistics to figure out. In fact, Phillip, whom I imagine as an accountant, reports it would take six months of wages…and it would seem a little skimpy. Andrew, I imagine as a snarky joke, suggests a child with a few fish and loaves of bread can help. Which is when Jesus schools them all on what it means to feed is sheep. Jesus takes this seemly small offering and offers it to the whole gathered hillside and the miracle happens, there is more than enough. And the miracle isn’t magic, it’s everyone offering everything they have just like that child did and when they share, they have more than enough. There is plenty of bread to share, Jesus says it and he shows it and he prays it, “Give us this day our daily bread.”

The essential stories of his people are woven into his being, he quotes them over and over and, while this is pure speculation, when I imagine Jesus teaching folks to pray, “give us this day our daily bread,” I imagine the story of Exodus at play. In Exodus 15 you can find the people complaining in the wilderness. Moses has parted the sea, Miriam has danced them into celebration and purpose, and now they have been wondering long enough to be hungry, unsure and uncertain.

The whole congregation of the Israelites complained against Moses and Aaron in the wilderness. 3The Israelites said to them, ‘If only we had died by the hand of the Lord in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the fleshpots and ate our fill of bread; for you have brought us out into this wilderness to kill this whole assembly with hunger.’

The people are murmuring, is the nice way scholars say they are complaining. A “go back to Egypt” committee has formed in the parking lot after the council meeting and they are getting loud and dramatic. I sometimes imagine God rolling her eyes and saying, “Oh my dear one, did you forget what we have just done together?” They have left slavery in the most powerful empire of the time, they have survived forced labor, terror and the killing of their sons and now they are saying, “You know what? At least we had stew.” They are complaining about hunger in the wilderness and wanting to go back to Egypt where at least they could battle the Devil they knew and eat at the flesh pots, which seems to be some kind of meat stew made from the leftover parts. So God responds with food, manna from heaven, and God gives them instructions to take enough for the day and eat it that day.

11The Lord spoke to Moses and said, 12‘I have heard the complaining of the Israelites; say to them, “At twilight you shall eat meat, and in the morning you shall have your fill of bread; then you shall know that I am the Lord your God.” ’

Moses, with Arron’s help, gives the good news, God heard you and is taking action. There is meat in the evening and bread in the morning. And God gives them instructions to care for the folks in their tent and to take what they need and to eat it each day. Of course some folks gather more manna … you know, the very industrious folks or perhaps the folks that just are so tired of being hungry … and some folks don’t gather quite enough, but manna can’t be managed or manipulated or banked or hoarded; those with too much and those with too little have the same amount at the end of the day. Big Mama God sets the table and there are no disparities, no crumbs for some while fat cats feast, everyone shares and everyone eats.

13 In the evening quails came up and covered the camp; and in the morning there was a layer of dew around the camp. 14When the layer of dew lifted, there on the surface of the wilderness was a fine flaky substance, as fine as frost on the ground. 15When the Israelites saw it, they said to one another, ‘What is it?’ For they did not know what it was. Moses said to them, ‘It is the bread that the Lord has given you to eat. 16This is what the Lord has commanded: “Gather as much of it as each of you needs, an omer to a person according to the number of persons, all providing for those in their own tents.” ’ 17The Israelites did so, some gathering more, some less. 18But when they measured it with an omer, those who gathered much had nothing over, and those who gathered little had no shortage; they gathered as much as each of them needed. 19And Moses said to them, ‘Let no one leave any of it over until morning.’ 20But they did not listen to Moses; some left part of it until morning, and it bred worms and became foul. And Moses was angry with them. 21Morning by morning they gathered it, as much as each needed; but when the sun grew hot, it melted.

God provides in the wilderness for weary folks seeking a new way. God provides this daily bread, not more and not less, not something fancy for some and marginal for others. Daily bread and a daily reminder to take what you need, to feed the folks in your tent, and that sharing means all will have enough.

Give us this day our daily bread asks us to focus on all of the folks in our community having enough, each soul going to bed warm and well fed. People’s needs are holy, may we have the courage to act like they are.

Questions for reflection:

• What is your favorite memory about bread?

• What is your favorite meal and your favorite story of being at table?

• What does it mean to treat peoples needs as holy? What needs to you have? What needs to you tend?

Hold these thoughts as you pray, “Give us this day our Daily Bread” each morning this week.