More than bread: thoughts on World Communion Day
I didn’t think I was qualified.
I thought that I needed to have attained a certain level of piety,
theological training,
Bible literacy.
I thought I needed to be a lifelong, card-carrying member of The Church to qualify to make the communion bread,
that I needed to be able to perform some sort of special ritual, or blessing preordained by
The Church, have a faith without blemish or question or doubt.
But then I thought about the woman who made that loaf of bread that Jesus broke. Did she know who the bread was for? Had she been specially chosen by a disciple to be The One Who Makes the Bread? Unlikely. In fact she was probably as clueless about what all was going to take place as the disciples entering that dinner (despite hints and open exclamations of Jesus’ imminent death).
She may have been preparing for the Passover as many women in the area were, making the bread, gathering the bitter herbs, setting the table. She may not have had any idea whose hands would break it, whose mouths would take, whose lives-across the generations-would be changed by it.
Flour, water salt, starter.
Knead, knead, knead.
A daily event in a communal oven maybe.
She would’ve made the dough with whatever attention that she had to give that day given all of the other responsibilities she would’ve had. Where were the children? Was the washing dry? Was the mending done?
Or maybe making the bread was a sacred space for her, a space where she could enter into her body and the rhythms of the kneading, explore the reaches of her own thoughts and mind wanderings.
Likely she would not have known that from that tiny point on the map, that specific moment in time, her everyday act of feeding others would become a ritual that would reach to parts of the world and places in time that she could not ever imagine.
(a short aside about missionaries and colonialism: I’m not a fan though I’m a staunch believer in spreading the love of God)
Tentatively, I asked Rev. Marks, would it be ok if sometime I made the communion bread?
The response was an overwhelming and effusive yes!
Over time my recipe evolved until its final rendition which gave a nod to our Pilgrim forebears (as Rev. Marks loved to say, the UU may have gotten the silver in the split, but we got the covenant).
It contained a little cornmeal, a local resource from the Wampanoag community. And whole wheat (though the base was primarily white flour), as they would not have had access to anything particularly refined.
I added olive oil, the only oil the Pilgrims would have had on hand, because she anointest my head with oil (a line of such extraordinary tenderness in my heart).
Into the bread was also kneaded song, whatever was on my heart. Just As I Am, Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing, Blessed be the Times that Bind. I have a hymnal whose pages are marked with flour and bits of dry dough.
When the kneading and singing were over, I cupped my hands around the ball of dough and raised it above my head and blessed it
God bless the hands that make this.
God bless the hands that break this.
God bless the hands and hearts that take this for the upbuilding of your kingdom on earth as it is in heaven.
Amen.
And when they came off of the cast iron skillet, they would be dusted with salt. We are the salt of the earth, and I would call out names of members of the congregation as I sprinkled:
Kathy, you are the salt of the earth.
Alice, you are the salt of the earth.
Diana, you are the salt of the earth.
On Sunday morning, this World Communion Day, the loving little hands and hearts of our children will offer three kinds of flatbreads:
Manakeesh, a Palestinian flatbread traditionally spread with the Middle Eastern spice blend, za'atar. To make this bread allergen friendly, it will be topped with thyme, cumin, coriander, sumac and olive oil.
Khobz, a Moroccan flatbread scented with fennel and flecked with flax seeds.
Shrak, a Jordanian Bedouin flatbread: this unleavened bread is traditionally stretched over an upturned bowl before being cooked in a hot cast iron skillet. The base is 50/50 white and wheat flour, some of which is Einkorn Flour, an ancient variety which would have been traditional to the area.
But in the end, more important than the recipe or special ingredients used, homemade bread around the world is made with what is at hand, imbued with hard work and big love. Jesus was known to them and is know to us in the breaking of the bread. May we know the love he has for us and all God’s children around every inch of this globe in the breaking and sharing of this bread.
Written by: jenny healy, Children + Family Minister