Sourdough Shared
So the crowd asked Jesus, “What sign then will you give that we may see it and believe you? What will you do? Our ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness; as it is written:
‘He gave them bread from heaven to eat.’”
Then Jesus declared, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never go hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.”
John 6:30-31, 35
Dear Friends,
Throughout this global pandemic, my husband has created and lovingly tended to his own sourdough starter, naturally pulling from the salty yeasty sea-breeze of our coastal air. From this starter, he adds the other ingredients, shapes and forms the dough, and 24 hours later he removes four loaves from the oven. He gives two loaves to our neighbors as we slather butter into the hot bread. I may not know what tomorrow might bring, but warm sourdough is a kind of unexplainable comfort in the midst of upending uncertainty.
Honestly, I feel tension when I think about this warm sourdough that I’m able to feed my children when there are countless mothers and fathers desperate for bread for their starving children. The biblical language of bread is not lost on me and sometimes feels like a cruel joke to the hungry. Yes, Jesus felt starvation when he could have turned stones into bread and Jesus fed thousands of hungry people by multiplying bread and fish. Jesus invited his disciples to pray, “Give us this day our daily bread.” Jesus held up bread, broke it, and invited his followers to eat it as his body broken for them. And Jesus called himself the bread of life.
But what good are stories when we see a child’s belly concave? How helpful is Jesus declaring he is the bread of life when so many people are stuck in a wilderness of lack?
The story of the Israelite’s being rescued out of slavery in Egypt shows them walking through the wilderness grumbling about going back to Egypt. I don’t think their complaints were because their feet hurt or they wished they had a more comfortable bed to sleep on like they’re entitled, ungrateful adults. I think many were fearful parents feeling like it would better to work for the enemy and break my back in slavery if it meant I could feed my kids.
Did God belittle them or smite them for their complaints? No. But did God meet them in their expectation? No. They expected foods like they had in Egypt and instead were met with manna, some heavenly flaky food no one had seen before. Was it enough? Yes. Did God take care of them and follow through with God’s promise? Yes. Was it what they were expecting? No.
I wonder how soon after the manna arrived that the miraculous became the mundane in the wilderness? It’s hard to see the miraculous around me when I’m expecting it to look differently. I expect to see what I want to see which makes me miss what God’s actually doing.
Maybe this is why we pray for our daily bread—asking God for physical, spiritual, holistic sustenance every day. I’ve felt a miraculous filling in that daily bread.
The crowd may have expected manna—a miracle that eventually becomes mundane. But God was doing something greater than feeding people’s bellies. Through Jesus Christ, God was filling people’s souls.
Manna was simply the appetizer to the daily bread which satisfies forever, no matter the wilderness. In the meantime, justice invites me to share sourdough with neighbors because there’s enough if I’m willing to share.
With (love),
Bethany