Take Eat This Is My Body
From her small kitchen in their simple country house Mrs Fowler could make the most marvellous breads in what appeared to be taskless seconds. And all the while she’d be singing sweet songs about her relationship with Jesus. I'd rise at five in the morning just to watch her in action, preparing what in my eyes was a feast for her family, but to her simply a labour of love.
Several months before Mrs Fowler passed away I went to visit her. It had been nearly 25 years since I last saw her. I wanted to tell her that I believed she was the one who had planted the seed in me to start my own spiritual journey. And she was the only person who had given me the confidence to at least 'try' making bread.
That was long ago. Today whenever I make my bread, my mind is flooded with warm memories of Mrs Fowler. Typical guy; I’m probably much better at incinerating things on a grille than I am at baking, but I still enjoy the exercise.
The function of yeast is fascinating. You mix it into a cup of warm water and stir a little: within minutes it begins to breathe, to swell, to soften, and come to life. Little plant spores - that's what yeast is: cocooned in their package until you come along with warmth and water and remind it that it's alive. Mixed with the flour, it begins to feed on it as well, growing and swelling. And in time it has evolved. It has risen to great heights, cresting over the top of the bowl.
Again you work with it, kneading it in your hands, forming it, moulding it, helping it to become what you want it to be. But before it can become bread something important must happen: The yeast must die.
In each place where the yeast spore has been, there will be a pocket of air-an acknowledgement of its death. And into the hot oven it will go. The yeast spores have given their life for the bread.
But their memory remains everywhere in the loaf. They shaped it. Their bodies gave it the power to rise. You even taste and smell them still, though they are gone: that flavour, unique to other breads, is what makes yeast bread so different.
Isn't that just like our relationship with Christ? "This is my body, which I have given for You." It cannot be at all unless I give my life for it. You are the body. You and I - and the bread; we are body together.
Krisztus feltámadt! Írásos Bill atya gyűjteményéből. Imádkozunk az egészsége. LR