Holy Bread
Zephyr United Methodist Church
Early First United Methodist Church
October 1, 2006
Rev. Eddie Smart
John 6:22-35
The next day the crowd that had stayed on the other side of the sea saw that there had been only one boat there. They also saw that Jesus had not got into the boat with his disciples, but that his disciples had gone away alone. 23 Then some boats from Tiberias came near the place where they had eaten the bread after the Lord had given thanks. 24 So when the crowd saw that neither Jesus nor his disciples were there, they themselves got into the boats and went to Capernaum looking for Jesus.
Jn 6:25 When they found him on the other side of the sea, they said to him, "Rabbi, when did you come here?" 26 Jesus answered them, "Very truly, I tell you, you are looking for me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves. 27 Do not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you. For it is on him that God the Father has set his seal." 28 Then they said to him, "What must we do to perform the works of God?" 29 Jesus answered them, "This is the work of God, that you believe in him whom he has sent." 30 So they said to him, "What sign are you going to give us then, so that we may see it and believe you? What work are you performing? 31 Our ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness; as it is written, 'He gave them bread from heaven to eat.' " 32 Then Jesus said to them, "Very truly, I tell you, it was not Moses who gave you the bread from heaven, but it is my Father who gives you the true bread from heaven. 33 For the bread of God is that which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world." 34 They said to him, "Sir, give us this bread always."
Jn 6:35 Jesus said to them, "I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.
Recently one of my friends sent me a beautiful story she had read.
It was written by Zelia M. Walters,
and appeared in Unity magazine under the title "Holy Bread."
It was the story of a man named Donley
based on a real experience in life.
This man Donley had been out of work for months
and had finally got down to begging,
which he despised with all his soul.
One cold winter evening he stood by a private club
and saw a man entering accompanied by a woman
and asked him for money to buy food.
"Sorry, fellow, but I've no change with me," the man replied crisply.
The woman, overhearing the conversation, said,
"What did that poor fellow want?"
"Price of a meal. Said he was hungry,"
replied her husband.
"Oh, Larry! We can't go in and eat a meal we don't need
and leave a hungry man out here."
"There's one on every corner now.
Likely he wants the money for booze."
"But I have some change. Let me give him something."
Donley, with his back turned to them,
heard every word that was said.
An electric shock passed through him.
He was about to run away
when he heard a woman's kindly voice:
"Here's a dollar. Buy yourself food.
And don't lose courage,
even if things do look hard.
There's a job for you somewhere.
I hope you'll find it soon."
"Thanks, lady.
You've given me a fresh start and a new heart.
I'll never forget your kindness."
"You'll be eating Christ's bread. Pass it on,"
she said with a friendly smile,
as if he were a man and not a bum.
Donley found a cheap eating place,
spent fifty cents,
resolved to save the rest for another day.
He would be eating christ's bread for two days.
Again that feeling as if an electric shock
passed over him.
"Christ's bread!"
But, look here!
One could not save up Christ's bread just for oneself!
And far in the distance he seemed to hear
the echo of an old hymn humming in his memory,
a hymn he had learned as a boy in Sunday school.
An old man shuffled along just ahead of him.
Maybe the old fellow was hungry.
Christ's bread must be shared.
"Hey, fellow, what do you say to going in
and getting a good meal?"
The old man turned, blinking up at Donley.
"You wouldn't fool me, would you, Buddie?"
And he couldn't believe it until he was seated
at an oilcloth table
with a bowl of stew before him.
During the meal Donley noticed that
the old man was wrapping up part of his bread in a paper napkin.
"Saving some for tomorrow, hey?" he asked.
"No--no. There's a kid down my way.
He's had tough luck and was crying when I left--hungry.
I aim to give him the bread."
"Christ's bread."
Donley was shaken as by a mystic presence,
a third guest at that oilcloth table.
It was as if he heard far-off church chimes
playing an old hymn.
The two of them took the bread to the hungry boy,
who began to eat greedily.
Then he stopped and called a dog,
a frightened, lost dog.
"Here, Jack, you can have half of it," said the boy.
"Christ's bread!" Ah, yes.
It would go to the four-footed brother too.
St. Francis of Assisi would have done that.
The kid acted like a new boy now,
stood up and started to cry his newspapers.
"Good-bye," said Donley to the old man.
"There's a job for you somewhere.
You'll find it soon;
just hang on. You know"
--his voice sank to a whisper--
"this that we've eaten is Christ's bread.
A lady told me so when she gave me that dollar.
We're just naturally bound to have good luck."
Donley turned as the old man left
and found the lost dog nosing at his leg.
He bent over to pat it
and found a collar around its neck
with its owner's name on it;
he took the long walk uptown to the owner's home, rang the bell.
Soon the owner came to the door
and when he saw his lost dog was delighted.
The keen-eyed man was about to say sharply,
"Didn't you steal that dog just to get a reward?"
But he didn't say it.
There was something of dignity about Donley that day.
Instead the man found himself saying
"I advertised in last night's paper. Ten dollars reward. Here it is!"
Donley looked at the bill half dazed.
"I don't like to take it!
I just wanted to do the dog a good turn."
"Take it along.
What you did is worth more than that to me.
And do you want a job?
Come to my office tomorrow.
I need a man like you,
who has ideas such as you have."
Donley started off down the avenue
with a hymn singing in his soul,
a hymn which he had remembered from childhood:
"Break Thou the Bread of Life."
Break thou the bread of life, dear Lord, to me,
as thou didst break the loaves beside the sea;
beyond the sacred page I seek thee, Lord;
my spirit pants for the, O Living Word!
Bless thou the truth, dear Lord, to me, to me,
as thou didst bless the bread by Gal - i- lee;
then shall all bondage cease, all fetters fall;
and I shall find my peace, my all in all.
From:
There Are Sermons in Stories,
William L. Stidger, Abingdon-Cokesbury, 1962.