BREAKING BREAD. But here, you say, you have to eat. There are always hungry
mouths to feed, and it is a nuisance. You tire of the mundane and the profane.
And so you go through the day muttering complaint after complaint against the
day and all that fills it. You wholly miss the holy, and that there is extravagance
hidden there within your ordinary.
Extraordinary! And altogether unnecessary.
When you break the bread, remember it is a gift. Your money may have
purchased this particular loaf, but you have not invented bread or manifested it
from thin air. Perhaps such a miracle might occur but not so long as you pat
yourself on the back and recite to yourself that you have worked hard and this is
all that you have. And tomorrow you will get up and repeat the cycle.
Break the chain of pride locked so tight around your hearts and minds that you
have cut yourself off from the remembrance of the bread of life broken for all of
you, the manna that nourishes your body and spirit, and the grace of those
gathered round your table.
Drink the new wine, and, please, get yourselves some new wineskins. There’s
really no cause for drivel, complaint and repetition in the presence of mystery
made manifest. Get it together. Receive a bounty of blessing. Give thanks for the
fancy of the feast and the grace of the meager meal.