St. Paul’s United Church                                                                               Sunday, June 10, 2007

 

Take This Bread – Rev. David Mundy

 

1 Kings 17:8-17, 21-22                                                                                                 Luke 7:11-17

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The cover art of the book caught my eye as I walked past in on display in our excellent public library.  As you can see, the image is just a jam sandwich on white bread cut into quarters. Except that they are not really quarters. The shape is more like a cross, a red cross because of the jam.

 

Then I saw the title, Take This Bread, which could have a religious meaning – a Christian meaning. The subtitle –A Radical Conversion – “sealed the deal.” I took it home and read it in a few days.

 

The author, Sara Miles, grew up in a home where her parents were thoughtful and avowed atheists. Both of them were the children of Christian missionaries and made the conscious decision to turn away from the God and the faith of their upbringing. So Sara never went to church or any other religious institution and essentially believed what she had been taught that there was no God and religion was up to no good.

 

As a young woman Sara ended up cooking in restaurants to pay the bills as she established herself as a writer. She came to love the work of feeding people even though it often drove her to exhaustion.

 

She moved to San Francisco and for some reason she has yet to figure out, she went to church one Sunday morning. The church was called St. Gregory’s and that day, as on every other Sunday, there was an invitation to communion: “Jesus invites everyone to his table.” To her own surprise Sara went forward, stumbling into the faith unprepared and unreformed, as she puts it. She  shared in the eucharist and her life was not the same afterward. St. Gregory’s was the perfect church for her, artistic and inclusive and unconventional.  As she studied her new faith, she realized that food was a constantly recurring theme. Salt, grain, wine, fish, were all there. Jesus described himself as the bread of life!

 

She also discovered that Jesus ate with people who were outside of the religious establishment and the conviction came over her that she and the upper-middle class congregation which had welcomed her must feed the poor and the hungry.

 


She went to the priests and to the others in leadership and asked to start a food pantry, right in the sanctuary around the newly crafted $6,000 altar. While the resistance was polite, it was strong and there was an obvious fear of the stranger. But Sara Miles is a persistent woman. The pantry happened and continued to happen as a gritty, no-nonsense  miracle of loaves and fishes. Three tons of food are shared every Friday with all who show up, no questions asked. These are the words of explanation on the website:

 

All of us come hungry to God’s Table.  Every week at St. Gregory’s, someone’s hands break bread and bring us into Communion.  We extend Jesus’ invitation and our own welcome to strangers through another weekly celebration: the operation of a food pantry in the church, open to everyone who walks through our doors.

 

This morning we listened to a story from the Older Testament of the bible about the prophet Elijah making a pest of himself with a woman in a village called Zarephath. As a widow she is having trouble making ends meet without a stranger asking for hospitality in the midst of a famine. This widow has a son and she knows that if she feeds the man who has shown up on her doorstep she will take bread out of the mouth of her starving child. Even so, she figures that this will probably be their last meal.

 

Elijah says “trust me,” there will be enough to eat and more if you just take the risk of feeding me. Actually what he says is “do not be afraid” a phrase I am coming to realize is almost as important in the bible as “love one another.”

 

In my mind’s eye I see this powerless woman at the end of her resources not knowing how to respond, standing in front of him for what seems like eternity in the silence, then giving in and doing as he asks. The result is miraculous:

 

The jar of meal was not emptied,

neither did the jug of oil fail,

according to the word of the Lord that he spoke by Elijah.

 

Make this bread, take this bread, share this bread. This is the essence of the story and it is at the heart of our Christian story. In all the gospels we are told that on the night before he died Jesus took bread and broke it and shared it with his followers. It was an intimate moment and holy moment and the opportunity for Jesus to speak of his own brokeness and generous love.

 


We also read in Luke’s gospel that on the day of resurrection Jesus meets two of his downcast followers on the road to the village of Emmaus. Even though the Risen Christ tries to explain what has happened they only move beyond their fear and recognize him as they break bread together.

 

Take this bread. This metaphor of God’s presence in the simplicity of a meal can become complicated, can’t it? At times in our lives it is difficult to trust that God provides and that there will be bread enough for everyone. It’s difficult not to be touched and even consumed by anxiety. We find ourselves in situations where it is hard for us to see our way forward. We feel vulnerable and wonder if we have the resources financially, emotionally, spiritually to carry on. Often when we are fearful we are inclined not to see Christ with us, or to have confidence that we will find the strength we need.

 

Sometimes in congregations we are unsure if we can sustain the choices we have made and what may seem to be generosity to some is foolishness to others. We can balk at the risk of the open table, whether it is on Sunday morning or at other moments in our life. I have been the pastor of congregations with food banks and Out-of-the-Cold suppers and while these were important ministries there was constant wrangling over whether we should continue our work. There were always a vocal few who were opposed because of issues of cleanliness and actual need and safety. We listened to the concerns but we also carried on because we sensed that if the congregation became a safe club it would stop being Christ’s church.

 

When we look to how we will do Christ’s mission together there will always be a certain amount of risk. And we don’t want to become defeated, as was the case with the widow of Zarephath and assume that we are going to die. Last weekend I was at the annual meeting of Bay of Quinte Conference where once again we spent time discussing our shrinking and aging United Church of Canada. Do you know that the average attendance for a United Church congregation is about sixty-five people? It led one of our theme speakers to wonder aloud if instead of calling ourselves a mainline denomination we should consider ourselves a “sideline” church. Of course he went on encourage us to believe that the Spirit isn’t done with us yet.

 

Christ’s message to us this morning is, Don’t be afraid. I am here. God provides enough for this moment and the next and the next. Come to the table. Come to the feast for body and soul. You will be revived. 

 

It is such a hopeful sign that a number of people will join the church through baptism and affirmation of faith in various forms. We want this community to be vibrant and alive and open to the gifts of others. We need to live with imagination and a desire to do what we are called to do, not only what feels safe and secure.


When Sara Miles was training in a restaurant kitchen in New York City, she worked with an eccentric and highly skilled chef who probably prepared her for the unconventional approach she took with St. Gregory’s Food Pantry. He told her repeatedly that if she wanted to make an omelette she would have to break some eggs. This wasn’t just an observation about making breakfast. It was his approach to his craft and his life.

 

Take this bread. We have a Maundy Thursday service at St. Paul’s during Holy Week where the participants actually sit down at a table which is set with plates of bread and cups of juice. It is not a Passover Seder but the candlelight setting is meant to give us an intimation of the final meal Jesus shared with his followers.

 

Last year one of the guests at the table was a fellow who worshipped with us for a while before moving out of town. He lived in a group home in the community and his behaviour was a little out of the ordinary for our middle class congregation but we the better for his being here. Before the service he asked if there would be refreshments afterward, always a prime consideration for him. He looked disappointed when I said no, there weren’t any refreshments this time, but he came in for worship. When I invited people to come to the table, he sat down and stayed. And stayed. And ate and ate. Others came and went around him. He offered the bread to them and the cup. He got his refreshments after all.

 

In the Jewish Passover tradition a place is left open at the table for the prophet Elijah in the event that he returns. I’m wondering if our eccentric friend was our Elijah, unexpectedly with us as a reminder of the imperative to make room for the unexpected guest.

 

When I was growing up virtually every church meal had a sung blessing or grace and it was the same one every time! It has fallen out of fashion through the years but as we come to the table today we can be reminded that Christ is still in the building.

 

Be present at our table, Lord:

be here and everywhere adored.

This food now bless, and grant that we

may strengthened for your service be.

 

Amen.