day thirty-eight: daily bread

The bag reads, "Handcrafted every day!"

Our organic grape juice and locally-made artisan bread for communion
(And I realize how pretentious that sounds. There's just no other way to say it.)

It is (quite literally) "daily bread" (Matt 6:11). And this day - Maundy Thursday in the Christian calendar, when Jesus shared his Last Supper with his disciples - it is his body, broken.

Suzy and I were planning on making bread for our church's Maundy Thursday communion service, but when she woke up sick, that plan went out the window. Instead, her mom picked us up two loaves of whole wheat Great Harvest Bread Company, a local business that makes fresh bread every day.

Talk about ordinary communion.
Pre-service, it sits in the staff kitchenette next to the coffeepot, sodas, and sugar packets.

I can't say that this benefitted anyone greatly. In fact, other than the staff of the church, I don't even think anyone knew that Suzy and I provided the elements and that they were fresh, organic, and locally-made.

I rarely (if ever) think about how what I eat impacts someone else. It's me eating it, right? It only really affects me...right?

But how does my buying a sourdough loaf from Publix affect some worker in a factory somewhere that packages that bread? Or if I buy Ocean Spray grape juice cocktail, what does that do to small-business grape farmers who aren't owned by the Ocean Spray corporation?

I know it sounds like a bit of a stretch, but it's true. In many ways what I buy to eat impacts those who sell the food, produce it, and grow it. What I buy to eat even impacts the environment. How foods are grown/produced can be ecologically harmful (i.e. pesticides, growth hormones, greenhouse gas emissions from livestock, etc.) or helpful (i.e. sustainable agriculture).

So as we shared in communion tonight, I thought about everything that went into this bread. There were bakers who made the dough and baked it. There were farmers who cultivated and harvested the wheat. The soil in which the crop grew had to be rich in nutrients. The rain had to fall on the fields, not in excess but not too little, either. The sun had to shine on the young wheat plant, giving its energy for photosynthesis.

Tonight, as we partook of a simple meal - an ordinary communion - I gave thanks for all of these, and for the goodness of God's creation that offers such riches to us.*

The words we so often just gloss over meant a little more today...
"Then he took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to them..." (Luke 22:19).

Gratitude and giving, thankfulness and sharing. When we are grateful for the bread we have been given for today, it is easier to share it with others. That's what we do at the Lord's Supper: we give thanks, and we share.

And maybe one day, if we all share our "daily bread" with one another, no one will need to worry about where tomorrow's bread will come from.

*These thoughts came from my reading today of Brian McLaren's Naked Spirituality, chs. 6 and 7.

day thirty-two: fertilizer

*Warning: This post contains adult language. Reader discretion is advised.


"Mary, Mary, quite contrary: How does your garden grow?"

One thing's for sure: It's not with silver bells and cockle shells. You've got to fertilize.

Today Suzy took mushroom compost to the organic garden at Travelers Rest High School (her alma mater, and also where my cousin Kevin goes to school...Go Devildogs!). Suzy walked into the school office and told them she had something for Ms. Chance, the teacher who oversees the garden. The lady at the front desk said to leave the bag with her, so Suzy plopped this bag o' compost on the desk...

...which sucks for the lady at the desk, because this stuff reeks. It smells like crap (which makes sense, since its compost). But that's the best kind of fertilizer. New life grows from that which is dead.

When I went under the bridge on day twenty-one, Tom (who works at the Rescue Mission) struck up a conversation with Adam, one of the addicts we met, and invited him to come to the mission to get some help. Adam said, "I can't go there. Too many rules, too many people telling you what to do. I don't wanna deal with all that bullshit."

I wondered how Tom would respond. But he calmly said right back, "Yeah, but bullshit is the best fertilizer. You ever grow tomatoes?"

"Yeah."

"Well to get good tomatoes you gotta put up with some bullshit to get 'em to grow. It's kinda like with us. God can even use the bullshit in our lives and get us to grow and be healthy."

I just noticed that there's a tomato on the package. Nice coincidence.

Tom went on to talk more with Adam, but I don't remember the rest. I was floored. I'd never heard someone preach with profanity (although I have fantasized about doing it myself, just never had the courage). But it was one of the best sermons I'd ever heard. New life grows from that which is dead.

I know some might think it would be blasphemous to talk about God and minister to others using profanity. But that's fertilizer.

day twenty-six: a bright life

"bright" (adj.) - radiating or reflecting light; luminous; shining; filled with light

It also happens to be the surname of Tim, who is married to Suzy's cousin, Jenny. (And it's the header on the website of the organization developed to support them, BrightLife.)

In January of 2010, three months before their wedding, Tim was diagnosed with colon cancer and he's been fighting it ever since. It's been two long years, and he's still fighting...but it's tough. They've tried several different treatments, and he's now started a new cocktail of drugs. He gets chemo every other week, which means that he feels sick about 30-40% of the time. (You can follow his story here.)

This week is one of those weeks. We took dinner to Tim and Jenny, but not just any dinner. Because of the cancer and chemo, Tim is supposed to eat as healthy as possible. Suzy searched for a recipe online and found Black Bean Enchiladas that are organic, vegan, and gluten-free. (The recipe doesn't tell you how to make the sauce, but it's easy - char the tomatoes and peppers on a grill or in a cast iron skillet, then put everything into a food processor.)

I was surprised...

First of all, I was surprised that the dish was actually pretty good, a real shock considering the lack of certain ingredients (e.g. meat) and the inclusion of others (e.g. vegan cheese, which I'm sure would surprise me further with how it is made).

I was also surprised by how healthy the meal was - low sodium, high fiber, lots of veggies and vitamins. It is amazing how unhealthy our "normal" eating can be, and Tim even commented on how his doctor(s) had mentioned the negative effects of our overly processed diets.

And I was surprised by Tim. He looked rough. He sounded tired. But there was still a brightness about him. As we visited and ate, he asked about my work at the church, we talked sports and joked, he played with our baby boy and brightened up his day (and ours, too!).

I've got amazing respect for Tim and Jenny. I can't imagine having to deal with what they already have before they're even thirty. I don't think I could do it. I would be consumed by the darkness of despair.

But Tim and Jenny are not. Even as they walk in shadow, there is a light within them. They have a bright life...and by that light, they brighten others' lives as well.

Tim making our baby boy's face light up

*If you like to play golf (or even if you don't) and want to do something to help others, check out the BrightLife Tee It Up Tournament. You can play, sponsor a hole, donate something for the silent auction, or volunteer to help with the tournament, and all proceeds will go to the Greenville Hospital System's institute for Translational Oncology Research (iTOR).