Day 7: Breaking Bread
We just came home from meeting with our house church. (For those who wonder, it’s the name we give to small groups at Trinity Church.) We always share a meal —or “break bread” together. Tonight, our host made an amazing Tomato Basil Soup, I brought salad, and two others brought bread.
For us, breaking bread is a bonding experience. The act of sharing a meal, one that is prepared by all, brings us together. Our hands have touched the food we share: sliced and diced, measured and seasoned, sautéed and stirred. When we eat it, we are nourished by one another.
Several times throughout the meal, someone would slice a piece of bread from one of the large loaves in the center of the table. I watched as the slices were cut and passed and the loaf disappeared. I held my slice, dipped it in oil, and thoroughly enjoyed the soft, dense texture of home baked bread.
Wonderful community happened around these loaves of bread. Tonight was especially sweet. We had guests—a delightful couple and a young, courageous African woman. (She has come to the U.S. to seek political asylum.) I don’t know that we would be as comfortable with each other if we didn’t take time to break bread. I hope you are finding time to do the same with a few people you enjoy.
2 comments:
Last year both of our daughters moved out west -one in Colorado and one in Oregon. Each wanted her own 'big adventure' before settling down.
There are different ways that I keep them present in addition to the daily emails and phone conversations.
Thinking about 'touch' led me to the room that both have occupied at various times. The daughter in Oregon has several items of clothing hanging in her closet. I needed to 'feel' her with me so I
took all of the clothes off the hanger, and folded each one. I 'touched' Anna as I felt the various textures of fabric. I could smell her perfume on the dresses and skirts. She was with me and I was comforted.
I was reminded of the woman who pushed through the crowd, determined to touch Jesus' garment. She had faith to know that the healing power present in Jesus was available to her if she could reach him. She was successful. Her touch brought healing and new life.
I too sense God's presence as I work with fabric making flowers and small quilts.
I can 'touch' Anna while I fold her clothes. The woman experienced healing by 'touching' Jesus cloak. I can enter God's presence by 'touching'
with fabric.
Thank you God for the diversity of experiences provided by touch.
Beautiful! Thank you for the reminder of that story, too. I may have to write about that one.
Post a Comment