Baking the Bread

On the night he was handed over to suffering and death, our Lord Jesus Christ took bread; and when he had given thanks to you, he broke it, and gave it to his disciples, and said, "Take, eat: This is my Body, which is given for you. Do this for the remembrance of me. 

-from the Book of Common Prayer



Every Wednesday night the Berkeley Divinity School at Yale hosts a community Eucharist for the wider Yale Divinity School community.  (Wow.  I just used the work community twice in one sentence.  We're big on community here.)  Usually we use the little communion wafers you've probably seen in most Episcopal or Catholic churches.  You know the ones:  flat, white, bland, stick to the roof of your mouth so you have to make that awkward sucking sound to get it loose.  That is not a value judgement, mind you.  The simplicity of the wafers can allow the worshiper to focus on the gift of Jesus' death and resurrection.  Not to mention they are neat.  There's a much smaller chance of crumbs of Jesus falling onto the floor with a tidy wafer.  Having said that, the Berkeley community has decided to try using a more substantial yeast roll baked by students.  I know there are many theologies, opinions, and whatever surrounding the use of yeast and linking the Eucharist to the Passover.  Those are legitimate discussions that I don't intend to have here as it's not the focus of my post.

This week I baked the bread.  Why I signed up to bake I don't know.  I'm not a good baker.  My student apartment has a crappy little oven that's not level and doesn't maintain a constant temperature.  I didn't have any of the required ingredients.  In my zeal to always want to help, though, I signed up to bake the bread.

The recipe was easy, and a quick trip to the Stop and Shop set me all up.  Even with the challenges of a cold-war era kitchen I was able to bake a passably good tray of rolls.  Sure they were uneven, lumpy, and the cross cut into the top didn't really work, but they tasted good.  (Every chef must taste his work, right?)  I just told myself that my lumpy rolls would help people focus on the humanity of Christ.  I'll admit that I worried a bit about how to transport the bread to the chapel.  I didn't have a container that seemed worthy of the Body of Christ.  After much searching through the cabinets I opted for a gallon ziplock bag.  After all, it was just bread at this point, and air tight seemed smart for bread.

This week's service was unusual in that it was a joint effort by the Episcopal and the Lutheran students.  A Lutheran pastor celebrated the Eucharist (beautifully, I might add), and I had the great privilege of serving as an usher.  What I love about ushering is that I get to lead people to the Lord's Table.  When it's time for communion the ushers play gatekeeper and...ush?  is that the verb?  certainly not herd...invite?  I like that.  Invite the congregation to head to the altar.  It's a joy to see the community gather.  To be the one to smile and with my best Vanna White impression gesture the way down the aisle to the table is a great honor.  And then I get to witness the faithful consuming the body and blood of Christ.  I know that to people unfamiliar with Eucharist that sounds gross, but it's really quite beautiful.  The breads I baked were torn apart and distributed to the congregation.  If I had served them at a dinner party people would have politely eaten them, I'm sure, but they weren't anything to write home about.  Through the movement of the Holy Spirit and the love of God, however, my mediocre rolls became the greatest meal one could have.  And I had some small part in that.  It was powerful.

Now here's where I must remain humble.  Yes, it was my skills as a baker that produced the bread, but the graces and beauty of the meal came entirely from God.  It's a great metaphor for life.  Sometimes I give things my very best try.  I sweat and follow the recipe and use my awful little oven, and I end up with a passable if not astounding product.  Even with that just kind-a ok roll, God was able to transform it into something beautiful and holy.  This isn't a defense of mediocrity!  How much better would the experience have been if the rolls were astoundingly good?  Today's Eucharist in Marquand Chapel, for example, featured an incredible homemade Challah bread that I can still taste hours later.  But the graces are the same.  The delicious, impeccable Challah was no holier than my simple rolls.  God's grace knows no limits.  I sometimes look at myself in the mirror and see a lumpy roll.  Should I work on that?  Absolutely.  Does God choose the beautiful person over me?  Absolutely not.

Moses, a murderer with stage fright can lead God's people out of slavery.  Mary, the lowliest handmaiden can be the mother of God.  Jesus, the son of a carpenter from a small town can save the world.    Each of us can serve the Lord.  Thanks be to God.

 Magnificat

 Luke 1:46-55

My soul doth magnify the Lord, * 

    and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Savior. 

For he hath regarded * 

    the lowliness of his handmaiden. 

For behold from henceforth * 

    all generations shall call me blessed. 

For he that is mighty hath magnified me, * 

    and holy is his Name. 

And his mercy is on them that fear him * 

    throughout all generations. 

He hath showed strength with his arm; * 

    he hath scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts. 

He hath put down the mighty from their seat, * 

    and hath exalted the humble and meek. 

He hath filled the hungry with good things, * 

    and the rich he hath sent empty away. 

He remembering his mercy hath holpen his servant Israel, * 

    as he promised to our forefathers,

    Abraham and his seed for ever.

Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit: * 

    as it was in the beginning, is now, and will be for ever. Amen.