Pastor: God of Healing and Transformation, we hunger and thirst for your abundant life. Give us the Bread of Life.
All: Strengthen us by your grace, that in communion with you, we may share & care to live in love as Christ loved us. In Jesus' name we pray. Amen
” Daily Bread & Bread of Life.” (3)
Sermon:
This August all the Sermons have been and will be based on the Gospel of John 6. It has been and will be continued bread talks about daily bread and bread of life. The Readings from John are as the 4th Gospel in its entirety: complex, philosophical, theological, mysteriously and spiritually. John can be challenging to understand, but if we bite into the meaning of bread to us as humans, as believers and as Christians, we might discover that the Gospel of John was and is filled with truth and wisdom.
Some of my fondest memories of my life, my soon 60 years in this wonderful world, are of food, family meals, making food, baking bread, sharing meals, feeding the ones I love with homemade food of comfort and love, enjoying wonderful, prepared lunches and great dinners in large community and church settings.
What a joy is to be invited to a table, to join a table, to set a table, to share a table, to gather at a table. To eat and drink of course, but even more to share life: to have conversations, to share heartaches or deep joys, to give advice or be given advice, to feel that you belong, you are loved, you are fed.
As I have quoted my favorite table grace by Benny Andersen:
In Danish:
Giv mig idag mit brød at smøre
Blødt og stengt skal mødes i mine hænder
Og smørrets solkin overvælde brødets mørke.
Lad mig røre ved det vi lever af,
Brunt, brød, gult smør
Kærlighed.
In English:
Give me today my bread to spread.
Soft and strict shall meet in my hands.
And the sunshine of the butter shall overcome the darkness of the bread.
Let me touch what we live by:
Brown bread, yellow butter, love.
What a joy to sit at a table where the opposites and duality of life meets and gives meaning: with darkness of ryebread, the sunshine of the yellow butter and love.
What a joy to share a table with food from so many cultures and continents, so many traditions and tastes. I genuinely enjoy our Sunday Lunches here at our church that truly embrace our diversity: Chinese lunch, Mexican Brunch, Danish Smorrebrod, Irish Stew, Soul warming Soups, Healthy Salads, and Cheesy American Pizzas.
Such meals are not just an act of consuming delicious food, but even more an act of sharing life, history, faith and hope. When we meet at the tables, we lay our weapons and differences down; we raise our forks, knives or spoon only in a friendly manner: we drink our coffee as a committed community.
Which should always be the vision and mission of our church: to be able to meet at the table. Regardless of, despite off and because of all that separates us and divides us.
A meal is always a gathering of hope and future. We might have memories of past meals and people we miss at the table, but mostly the shared table, the shared bread, is a symbol of hope and tomorrow. We share the meal to live: to be nourished to face yet another day.
Many memories are shaped around our experiences and these shape our identity. Our relationship with food operates on both a primal level and a more profound level. Food fuels our bodies physically, but meals are also where people express themselves. People are creative in their cooking. People are caring in their cooking. We send messages through our cooking and our shared meals. And when we rise from a table, full, fed, beloved and blessed we rise and look ahead, shaped by that meal.
I was blessed to grow up with the best cook, my mom. She is one of the best cooks I know.
And as she unfortunately cannot cook for us anymore, she sure has prepared her share of meals. Creative, caring, comforting, culinary and consistently she has made meals, baked bread and cakes, spoiled her husband, her children, her grandchildren and family and friends with her time and talents as a cook. I still have not tasted a better roasted chicken than my mom’s.
My two sisters and I have all been formed and raised by moms cooking and care, - so we know try to cook like her and all enjoy gathering our families and friends at tables of meals. As our sons always tease me when we are finally gathered at a table despite our busy schedules, and they say: “Now mom is happy!”
Just as my mom was and still is happy when we were gathered and together, I feel blessed, beloved and home when we are.
Give me today my bread to spread.
Soft and strict shall meet in my hands.
And the sunshine of the butter shall overcome the darkness of the bread.
Let me touch what we live by:
Brown bread, yellow butter, love.
21.900.
That is how many days I have lived, when I turn 60 on August 28. Born in 1964, on a humid sweltering day of Harvest in Denmark, in a year when Beatles Mania was on the top, Elizabeth Taylor married Richard Burton, the first lung transplant was successfully performed.
I can only try to remember all the meals and all the bread I have consumed. But if it has been 3 square meals a day it is around 65.000 meals.
That is a lot of bread – and it might explain the extra pounds on my sidebones.
But if anything, it tells us something about how much time and energy we do spend on food and nourishment.
From the earliest parts of Christianity, food was central. Jesus presented himself as the bread from heaven, our savior and comforter. He offered himself as bread, blessed, broken and shared with everyone. He fed the hungry, physically and spiritually, and Jesus ask us to do the same in his name.
Jesus invited everyone to sit at his table and enjoy the meal. Jesus knew that we all need the community and fellowship of belonging but also of believing.
Jesus did not just ask us to gather at his table Sunday after Sunday, to remember that first Communion – but even more to share a meal in his name in the present with hope and encouragement for tomorrow.
And remember as the poet Pablo Neruda some poetically and profoundly said:
And we will also share with one another.
whatever has
the shape and the flavor of bread:
the earth itself,
beauty and love--
all taste like bread.
and have its shape,
the germination of wheat.
Everything
exists to be shared,
to be freely given,
to multiply.
The communion table and the communion bread, whether a stale wafer or a fresh baked bread, - is a symbol of the gathering at a table where we are all invited and all welcome. Regardless of status, power, yes even faith. We are invited to meet at the table of grace, forgiveness and new beginnings.
My grandmother went to communion, bent by sorrow and regrets every Sunday, longing for and praying for forgiveness – even if she hardly had more to be forgiven than any of us: but her faith was physically seen in her demeanor, her bent head, her silence. And then after having received the bread and wine accompanied by the words of wisdom and grace – she got up, with her head confident up looking everyone and life in the eyes, ready for yet another week of life.
I remember small kids coming to communion, confused about the mysterious words about blood and wine, bread and body, but still receiving and jumping down the stairs with a smile.
You never know whom you meet at the altar rail. You can meet anybody as it is for everyone.
I remember one chilly winter day in Aarhus when I was studying, and I went to the Cathedral for a Sunday Service. It was a Sunday Service like any other Sunday – and as always, I went to communion with my prayers, my regrets and my hope. I barely noticed the elderly lady kneeling next to me. She too was in her own thoughts, receiving bread and wine. Suddenly I realized that the elderly lady was indeed her Majesty Queen Margrethe. Kneeling next to me and others, like anyone else in need of words of wisdom and words of forgiveness.
Today I think of that elderly queen kneeling next to me and realized that she was younger than I am now. How the concept of time changes with age…….
But the concept of the Communion table is the same. A place of faith and forgiveness, of remembrance and renewal, a place of grace given to us… repeatedly. A living bread that keeps giving.
Remember that faith is all about love and hope. Not mistrust and fear. So much of our public discourse these days is filled with mistrust and fear that it is hard even to share a meal, a conversation, a country, - yes even a celebration Ceremony at the Olympics in Paris.
Some of you might have seen the extravagant Opening Ceremony to kick off the 2024 Olympics in Paris. Showcasing Paris and French Culture in the most beautiful way at the Eiffel tour with Celine Dion’s Voice and the river Seine filled with boats of Athletes. The Beautiful city of lights with Molin rouge, Sacre Coeur, Notre Dame and Louvre. A place of culture, art and beaty.
Reviews of the Opening Ceremony were mixed, calling in wacky and kitschy to dazzling and spirited.
But days later, people were still talking about the ceremony, but not for the reason the artistic director of the event had hoped.
It was because of a misunderstood table.
Toward the end of the ceremony, the camera captures a group of about 18 people gathered on one side of a fashion runway. A t the center of the group as a woman in a blue dress and silver headdress and flagging her on both sides was a diverse ensemble of performers including a drag queen or two. It looked like an ensemble from Moulin rouge. Regardless of the intentions of the director, the imagery of the tableau, the halo-like silver headdress of the host, the long table, even the placement of the performers evoked for many the iconic Leonardo da Vinci painting of the last supper.
The Olympic committee has since acknowledged and expressed regret that some people felt offended by the opening ceremony. But also insisted that the tableau was not inspired by Leonardos Last Supper Table but by The feast of the Gods, a 17-century painting by Dutch painter van Viljert.
But instantly the voice rose, and the righteous anger spoke about disrespect and mockery of Christianity.
Regardless of a misunderstood intention and a different inspiration that the beloved Leonardo da Vinci Last Supper, - what struck me was the fact that suddenly Christ himself was used as a weapon in a culture war an in an incredibly angry shouting match, where Christ would never have been.
Christ who was committed to peace amid a violent Roman Empire.
Christ who commanded his followers if hit to offer their other cheeks, to bless those who curse them, to lay down their swords and pray for their enemies.
Christ who welcomes everyone at his table.
Jesus came into a world marked by inequality, privilege, power, and division and he always decorated his table with inclusiveness, openness, bread to share, forgiveness to be given and love to be felt. He was known for his table sharing practices, his habit of dining with people from different walks in life, from religious leaders to tax collectors, from pharisees to prostitutes.
It was Jesus’ habit of eating with sinners that angered the powerful and lead to the cross.
When we think of the last supper, as it is described in the Gospel and in the beautiful painting by Leonardo da Vince, we should remember that Jesus liked eating with people who we would look down on and would invite for our own parties.
So, I was struck by the fact that everyone shouting Culture War and Attack on Christianity, seemed to forget that we are invited to a common table by Jesus who commended us to love and bless our enemies. And he invited everyone to the table, the good and the bad, the powerful and the powerless, the women and men, the young and old, the distressed and the delighted, the student and the queen, yes even the drag queens.
We are blessed to live in a diverse world: we are blessed to live in a world that transforms, reforms and changes: we are blessed to be invited to the same table of grace regardless of who or what we are.
So were some saw a mockery of Christianity floating on the Seine, I saw something completely different. I was a creative artistic and very French tableau of our diverse world: and with my Christian glasses on I saw an embodiment of Jesus table: diverse, distinct, delicious, changing, challenging, confirming and comforting. A table that all are invited to – not just us, but all.
That is how we share the bread of life with the world. A promise of grace that may fill us with compassion, so when we have the power to make something right, we are called to show God’s love.
The Bread of Life and our Daily bread a promised for today and tomorrow. It is to be blessed, broken, shared and believed.
Everything
exists to be shared,
to be freely given,
to multiply.
Bread, wine, forgiveness, grace, faith, hope and love. Everything exists to be shared.