Skip to main content

Making Bread

John 6.28-35

I first made bread with my grandmother. It was one of my favourite activities. I was fascinated by the process of making the bread, the texture of the dough, the way it rises. I loved its smell and - of course - I loved the taste. For the first time I found that simple food could be really good to eat, something that wasn’t just a chore. Before, when I ate bread, it was something I was obliged to do. ‘You’ve got to eat two slices of bread and then you can have some cake.’ But my grandmother’s bread was something I actually enjoyed eating for its own sake. ‘Give us this bread,’ said the people to Jesus, And don’t ever stop.’

There’s nothing quite like homemade bread. It has a taste that is incomparable to sliced bread, or even to bread from a baker’s shop.

Bread is something we need to stop us feeling hungry and fill us up. But the best bread can also be deeply satisfying, not just a filler but a pleasure in its own right.It’s a taste of heaven, but even homemade bread isn’t ‘the true bread from heaven, the bread that gives life.’

Just think what it means, then, to have faith that Jesus is the one who came down from heaven to give life to the world. No one who comes to Jesus will ever be hungry again because he’s the real thing, the spiritual equivalent of homemade bread. He offers an experience which is incomparable and deeply satisfying.



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I don't believe in an interventionist God

Matthew 28.1-10, 1 Corinthians 15.1-11 I like Nick Cave’s song because of its audacious first line: ‘I don’t believe in an interventionist God’. What an unlikely way to begin a love song! He once explained that he wrote the song while sitting at the back of an Anglican church where he had gone with his wife Susie, who presumably does believe in an interventionist God - at least that’s what the song says. Actually Cave has always been very interested in religion. Sometimes he calls himself a Christian, sometimes he doesn’t, depending on how the mood takes him. He once said, ‘I believe in God in spite of religion, not because of it.’ But his lyrics often include religious themes and he has also said that any true love song is a song for God. So maybe it’s no coincidence that he began this song in such an unlikely way, although he says the inspiration came to him during the sermon. The vicar was droning on about something when the first line of the song just popped into his

Giotto’s Nativity and Adoration of the Shepherds

John 1.10-18 In the week before Christmas the BBC broadcast a modern version of The Nativity which attempted to retell the story with as much psychological realism as possible. So, for instance, viewers saw how Mary, and Joseph especially, struggled with their feelings. But telling the story of Jesus with psychological realism is not a new idea. It has a long tradition going back seven hundred years to the time of the Italian artist Giotto di Bondone. This nativity scene was painted in a church in Padua in about 1305. Much imitated it is one of the first attempts at psychological realism in Christian art. And what a wonderful first attempt it is - a work of genius, in fact! Whereas previously Mary and the Baby Jesus had been depicted facing outwards, or looking at their visitors, with beatific expressions fixed on their faces, Giotto dares to show them staring intently into one another’s eyes, bonding like any mother and newborn baby. Joseph, in contrast, is not looking on with quiet a

Meeting Jesus on Zoom

‘Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.’ (John 20.19-31 ( https://www.biblegateway.com NRSVA) This is my second reflection about today’s Gospel reading but I wanted to write something about meeting Jesus on Zoom. Zoom’s been very useful during the lockdown, but it’s also got a bad press. Various mischief makers have gatecrashed meetings on Zoom, either to eavesdrop or make inappropriate comments. That’s why worshippers needed permission to join our on-line service this week. If they managed to press all the right buttons, and entered all the right codes, they should've found themselves looking at a screen not unlike the cartoon picture below of the eleven apostles trying to meet on Zoom with the risen Jesus. Anyone who couldn't see the service on the screen would've been in good company. In the cartoon Jesus has done something wrong. Either he hasn’t enabled Zoom to t