Give us this day our daily bread.
Immanuel Episcopal Church
Colossians 2:6-15, (16-19)
O God, the protector of all who trust in you, without whom nothing is strong, nothing is holy: Increase and multiply upon us your mercy; that, with you as our ruler and guide, we may so pass through things temporal, that we lose not the things eternal; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
“Lord, teach us how to pray, as John taught his disciples.”
As someone raised in the Episcopal Church, I am used to structured prayers. I remember the particular challenge my seminary friends and I faced when asked to pray off of the top of our heads. We were used to beautifully scripted prayers that follow certain formulas; how would we know what to say?
Lord, teach us to pray, the disciples ask, and Jesus does. He does not give them a complicated checklist to follow, particular posture to adopt, or require certain words for their prayers to be valid. Instead, he gives them words to pray, simple words that engage the everyday reality of humanity with God’s will. They are to ask God for what they need to keep them fed and in right relationship with God and the world. They are to ask God for help in avoiding troubles.
The words Jesus gives to the disciples and to us as well have come to be formed into the Lord’s Prayer. So often, these words come out without much thought, so I am thankful to have them as a part of our lessons for today.
There are so many good phrases in the Lord’s Prayer; sometimes a certain one will jump out at us. For me, asking for our daily bread has been on my mind and my heart. Give us this day our daily bread. These words are an integral part of our prayer life, both in the context of public worship and private life. Give us this day our daily bread. Not yearly bread, not monthly bread, not weekly bread. Daily bread. For so many years, this phrase meant nothing to me; now that I’m making sure that I have food and preparing my own meals, it really means something. Give us this day our daily bread.
Now that I’ve worked with food banks and farmers, those growing for personal consumption and those growing food for sale, daily bread speaks to what we need right now.
What is ripe. Eating it while it’s fresh and at the peak of its nutritional value, or canning it so that it will provide in cooler days ahead. Give us this day our daily bread. It is asking for enough, trusting that there will be more in the next day and the next and the next.
When Moses was leading the Israelites through the desert on their way to the promised land, they asked God for food, and God gave them manna from heaven to eat.
The manna was tricky: there would be more than enough for each person’s daily needs, but they were only to gather what they needed for that particular day. If a person gathered more than he or she needed for one day, it would go bad overnight; the only exception to this was the day before the Sabbath, when each person was to gather enough to eat for that day and for the Sabbath so they would not have to work on the Sabbath. As the psalmist wrote, “So mortals ate the bread of angels; he provided for them food enough.”[1] Enough. Daily bread. Their needs were met, and God’s grace was fresh each day, ready to be harvested. Give us this day our daily bread. Give us enough, Lord.
But how often is it hard to know what is enough? Sometimes the harvest pickings seem slim; other times, the baskets are overflowing. What to do? Give us this day our daily bread. Give us enough. So simple, yet so hard. Daily bread provides nourishment, body and soul. It provides a sense of security.
During World War II, many children ended up in refugee camps after their homes had been bombed, and often they had been left orphaned. These children were fed and cared for, but many of them had lost so much that they could not sleep; their measures of security had been taken from them. Someone in the camps figured out that these children needed some reassurance, a bit of security to which they could cling; if the children had something to hold on to when they went to sleep, they would wake up feeling safer. The children were given a piece of bread to hold as they slept. Because they had the bread, the children had a tangible reminder that they had eaten that day and would eat again the next day.[2]
Give us this day our daily bread. It is a tangible sign of security. As we come to the altar rail to receive communion, we have tangible signs of God’s love for us. We do not receive large portions, but they are additional daily bread to remind us that God cares for us and for the world. In receiving our daily bread, we are freed to share our abundance with the world. Just as we do with the Garden of Grace, the carefully tended abundance goes further when we share it. Give us this day our daily bread.
[1] Psalm 78:25, from a translation used at the General Theological Seminary
[2] From the book Sleeping with Bread by Dennis Linn, Sheila Fabricant Linn, and Matthew Linn.