more bread, please

I remember the first time I was asked to help serve communion at church. It felt very sacred and holy to me. As I held out a glass of grape juice and prayed over those who came and dipped their bread in the cup, I was overwhelmed by the act. I realized that this is what our lives are supposed to be like. We are called to hold out the body and blood of Jesus to the world, to show the world what His Kingdom is like.

A couple of weeks ago, my pastor husband was serving communion at church, and when one of our congregants came up to receive, he asked if he could have a big piece of bread because he was hungry. My husband tore off a big chunk of bread and gave it to him. I chuckled when he told me this story later, but it also made me pause.

It made me wonder if sometimes we don't take enough bread. I wonder if maybe we should all be asking for big pieces of bread.

Recently, a four year old in our community was killed in a tragic accident. My soul ached. A woman I know lost a baby this week. My heart cried. I see friends fighting with each other on social media over political issues. My soul is hungry. The grandpa of dear friends passed away this week. I cried more. The list goes on and on. We need only turn on the news to see the brokenness surrounding us - people killing each other, hate and violence at each turn.

I look at the world around me, and I long to hold out the body and blood of Jesus to the hurting, the broken, the angry, the lonely, the sorrowful. I want to offer the only thing that I know has the power to bring reconciliation. Communion is coming together around a table and being reconciled to God and to each other.

In our culture, we try to change things with words and logic and intimidation. The bread and the wine are meant to remind us of how Jesus changed the world - around a table. He spent time with people around a table, freely giving of himself to everyone around him. He was vulnerable with people. He listened. He spoke truth.

The world's path to change is through violence and persuasion, anger and coercion, fear and hate. Jesus' path of change is found around a table, by offering more bread, more wine, more of Himself to us. 

I'm glad my husband gave that congregant a big chunk of bread. I'm glad because when we come hungry to Jesus, He doesn't turn us away. When we ask Him for more of Himself, He isn't stingy. He is generous, lavish, and extravagant. As I encounter the pain of the world, as I cry over the hurts and the anguish, the rhythm of my soul has become: Jesus, give me more. I am hungry. I am thirsty. I need more of you.

I am realizing more and more how much I need Him. How much I need the bread and the wine and the table. My prayer is that we would come to the table, that we would listen, that we would be vulnerable, that we would speak truth. My prayer is that we would realize our hunger and ask for more bread.