No Sara Lee Around Here
August 11, 2008
The communion bread yesterday was three layers of delicious! Members of the congregation take turns baking or buying the bread each week for the table. Every one of those dear people bakes a great loaf of bread but yesterday was Suzanna’s turn. That would be Suzanna, as in Suzanna the professionally-trained pastry chef, bread baker, and as far as I’m concerned, Suzanna, the Saint of Wheat. No store bought Hawaiian bread for that girl. None of that “throw some thawed Costco dough in the bread maker and call it the body of Christ” falderall. Not for Suzanna. Her loaves of communion bread, golden brown and gleaming on the top from an egg white wash are airy, buttery mounds of melt-in-your-mouth yum. Sometimes she flavors the yeasty bread flavor with a hint of vanilla, an echo of anise, or a whisper of citrus, and if the stars are lined up just right in the heavens and Suzanna feels especially kindly, the bread is broken open and held before us still warm from baking. Give me just a second to collect myself. I’m having a carbohydrate moment.
I kid you not that there have been Sundays when the earthy fragrance of the bread has been so tantalizing that as the pastor pressed a chunk of it into the palm of my hand I’ve considered asking if he might happen to have some butter or jam in the pocket of his robe. Yesterday was no exception. The bread was perfection and as I headed back to my center aisle seat, third row from the front, the memory of the sight, smell and taste of the bread and the wine of the cup lingered with me.
I grew up in a conservative Christian tradition where communion was offered the first Sunday of every month and the “bread” consisted of minuscule pale-white squares of flour paste accompanied by tiny plastic cups of watered-down Welches’ Grape Juice. We were encouraged to partake of the bread and the cup and as we did to remember Jesus, and so we swallowed down the bit of hard tack and vaguely grapish water and thought about the One our hearts adored; a total disconnect between body and spirit.
Since entering the world of weekly communion, earthenware chalices and loaves of crusty bread, I’m no longer content with simply ingesting the bread and juice. These days I want to experience them, to engage in the moment with all my senses and being. That’s what partake really means! I want to be overwhelmed by the sight and taste and smell of homemade bread and sweet tannic wine just as my heart is undone by what Jesus did so long ago and how the Living Christ comes to me today. No unleavened wafers for me. I want risen bread!
Right now, just now, I’m thinking about Suzanna’s bread and I’m jonsing for it. I want another bite as my soul longs for another taste of the Bread of Life; hungering for more of God, for more grace and love, forgiveness and redemption, more of everything that was given in extravagant abundance at the table of Christ; abundance accessible to us in each and every moment of our lives. All we need do is come hungry and ready to receive. God will provide the feast.
Oh, taste and see, that the Lord is good.
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Posted in Grace Meditations
August 11th, 2008 at 2:16 pm
I’ve spent most of my life in churches with the pale-white flour squares too, but at a college retreat, we had real bread for communion and we all broke off our own pieces. The minister talked about the fact that the bread all came from one common loaf and about the significance of the church as one body. That’s when it hit me that there could be more to communion than simply feeling sorry and repentant for our own sin. The symbolism is richer and deeper than that, and your description of the delicious bread brings it home to me again. How wonderful to yearn for more, for a rich experience with God and with a faith community. (Plus, I want some of that bread. I think I may head to a local bakery sometime soon.)
August 11th, 2008 at 5:15 pm
Anita your post and Esther’s reply reminded me of how much I enjoyed a communion at the EC Woman’s Conference. We all gathered in a circle and each lady broke her own piece from the loaf. And we all partook together. The whole experience brought a real feeling of being part of God’s family thankful for and celebrating all Christ has done for us. Thanks for bringing that beautiful memory back.
August 11th, 2008 at 10:37 pm
Wow, Anita. You sure do know how to stir up a hunger in a prodigal gal’s heart. It’s been years since I’ve dared partake of the table or spent the night worshipping in His Presence. You sure brought back the memories.
August 12th, 2008 at 9:52 am
What a thought!
“I want risen bread.”
Anita, how appropos that the risen Lord be remembered with risen bread! I know the tastes-like-glue squares and the pease-sir-can-I-have-some-more-as-I’m-choking-on-this-glue juice of which you speak, having grown up on them myself. I guess the thinking was it had to be unleavened, but it certainly didn’t have to be without ingredients altogether!
You get me to thinking all metaphorically. Risen. With substance. Palatable. Soft. Something you’d want to eat every day. Enriching.
Much better as the rememberance of our Lord.
August 12th, 2008 at 10:11 am
Anita said:
I want another bite as my soul longs for another taste of the Bread of Life; hungering for more of God, for more grace and love, forgiveness and redemption, more of everything that was given in extravagant abundance at the table of Christ; abundance accessible to us in each and every moment of our lives. All we need do is come hungry and ready to receive. God will provide the feast.
Oh, taste and see, that the Lord is good.
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmmmmmmeeeeennnnnnnnn
August 12th, 2008 at 3:31 pm
In the churches I grew up in, we always had those silly little pale-white squares too. They must be some sort of standard issue for communion. Because no matter what church my family attended (military kid so we moved often), from the South to the Azores to the Mid-west, every church had those little squares.
Those squares were a real curiousity too. Where is the factory that churns those things out? Do they come from a magazine that sells church supplies? If so, did that magazine sell more palatable communion “bread”? And if they did, did our churchs just buy the little squares because they were the most economical? Did those little squares ever go on sale? Those were just a few of the questions that I pondered every communion.
It would be nice to receive communion with a lovely fresh baked loaf of bread. Wow! The whole experience and symbolism sounds really great. Anyway, this was a nice post. With all the childhood memories, it just made me laugh and smile.
August 13th, 2008 at 10:15 am
Esther–>It was so nice reading about your college experience and how it not only brought communion alive for you but took you to a deeper place of understanding in it all. Those are amazing moments. Thanks for sharing it.
Eliz–> The communion each year at EC would make the price of the retreat well worth it just for that alone, don’t you think? I’ve had the privilege of leading communion at the women’s retreat several times over the years and each time remains a special memory for me.
Lor –> I read your comment the other evening and went to bed thinking about what you had written; partly because I’m curious to know what’s kept you from daring to come to the table and partly because your words gave me an idea, that perhaps we might have a SisterFriends Communion here sometime in the near future. I’m mulling over how it might happen and when it does, it would be my hope that you’d dare to join us at the table, in God’s presence.
Bon–> Ha! You’re so right, unleaven bread is symbolic of the passover bread but I would imagine the bread the Israelites prepared when leaving Egypt and the passover bread Jesus shared centuries later were just a wee bit more tasty than those 3×3cm wafers. Whether wafer or loaf, each can be so packed with meaningful symbolism and so while I would never want to take away from the experience of others who receive it any other way…for me, I’m a loaf girl.
Katherine–> My guess is that in some Christian traditions (Roman Catholic for one) the unleavened wafer is chosen intentionally based on spiritual reasons however, I think for the majority of Protestant churches it’s less about the spiritual implications and more about the convenience and cost. Yes, you really buy those wafers in bulk through church supply houses and you’ll be happy to know most have a one-year shelf life. And just to ease your worry, you can also purchase a plastic dispenser that’s filled with grape juice and then with the click of a lever dispenses it in pre-measured portions into the little plastic cups. Where there’s a need, there’s an industry to provide for it though I must admit, I tend to prefer the image of a church member dusted in flour, baking the communion bread in their home kitchen rather than a wafer plant in an industrial park that turns out massive quantities of wafers to be boxes, stored and then shipped out with the next order.
August 13th, 2008 at 10:33 am
Aw, I miss Communion at Peace! I’ve always had the same thought- that the homemade bread is a much better representation of Christ’s body than the factory-made Communion wafers. I like that we take turns making the bread and bringing it to share with the community. And I love the lingering taste of the bread and grape juice as I return to my seat (second row from the front!) and especially as the singing bowl is rung. It is the most peaceful feeling.
August 13th, 2008 at 11:23 am
I am so going to ask my pastor (So. Baptist) if I can bake the bread for the next commune. I sure related to this blog, thanks Anita.
August 13th, 2008 at 11:27 am
Katherine–> HEY! Look at you visiting here! How fun is that?! And yes, I absolutely love the ringing of the bowl and the silence that follows. I often wish it lasted longer. Maybe we can talk Pastor Steve into kicking it up from three chimes to a half dozen. Thanks for adding a Peace voice here!
August 13th, 2008 at 11:29 am
Free–> Let me know what happens with your request. I’m be curious to hear!