The Bread of (Everyday) Life

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The Bread of (Everyday) Life

In Sunday’s gospel, we hear Jesus say, “I am the Bread of Life” (John 6:48). I’ll be first to admit, you gotta hand it to the guy: it’s catchy. It’s succinct, straightforward, and it works. Actually, it works so well that I sometimes wonder how Jesus came up with it. Did it hit him while he was eating lunch?  Did he pass the time during his 40 days in the desert toying with clever taglines? Did he workshop it with a focus group before sending it up?

“‘I am the fish of life’…”
“Ewww, Jesus…”
“Okay, how about ‘feta of life’…?”
“Too cheesy.”
“Bread?”
“That works.”

“Bread of Life” is so pithy that not only has it withstood the test of time, it has also lent itself to countless communion hymns, making liturgical songwriters a lot of dough in the process. And for such a seemingly simple phrase, it’s actually got so much depth that it’s really not hard to connect it to just about anything that has to do with Christian discipleship: much like Christ is for us, we are daily sustenance for one another. We are a source of strength for each other. We are broken in our ministry even as we share with others.

Now, I bake bread. Often. It tends to impress people, but there isn’t really anything particularly spectacular about it. (*shrug*) Water, yeast, flour, a bit of oil, a little salt.  It’s so simple that sometimes, as I make it, I find myself thinking, “Seriously, Jesus? Why did you pick bread? It’s kinda dull.”  Bread is so dull, in fact, that people even use the term “white bread” to describe all manner of things mundane and boring.

Bread was part of the same old sandwich that was in my lunchbox day after day when I was a kid. It’s a nondescript starch at the dinner table when everyone is tired of potatoes and we’re out of rice. It even has its own spot on the counter, and it’s been the same spot since we moved into our house. It’s just… ordinary, everyday stuff.

And I think that’s how I often feel about my vocation. It’s just ordinary, everyday stuff. I earn my daily bread in a job that is wholesome, but not particularly exciting. I serve in a ministry that allows me to nourish the faith of others but, on the whole, is fairly routine. And if I’m honest, I have to admit that I’ve been broken, myself, on more than one occasion. Emails, professional development, workshops, retreats, meetings, writing… there really isn’t anything spectacular about it.

But with that said, bread does have its moments. When they come to visit, my teenage nephews will scan the kitchen as they hug me, and will practically climb over me for homemade bread once they spy it. I’ve watched my brother-in-law put my other brother-in-law in a headlock over the last slice. My own adult kids, when left unattended, have been known to destroy a loaf in seconds.

Maybe Jesus was on to something with this bread thing after all.

There have been times when my work has felt mundane and ordinary, and yet I’ll hear that it has touched someone deeply. When I feel like I’ve let people down with the everyday bread I’ve offered them, someone will tell me how it fed them and left them hoping for more. Even the crumbs swept up after I’ve been broken somehow feed the birds now and then.

Jesus who was, himself, the very Bread of Life didn’t work miracles 24/7, so it’s unreasonable (half-baked?) for me to expect that of myself. And maybe that’s the point. Maybe that’s why Jesus picked bread. My vocation isn’t necessarily going to be anything particularly spectacular every day. But it’s enough to feed people. And if what I offer in my discipleship, simple though it may be, is enough to nourish even one person when they need it… well, that’s the greatest thing since sliced bread.

By Darcie Lich
Vocation Team