Faith Reflection

I loved watching my grandmama in the kitchen. It was her happy place. She’d hum to herself while she mixed up whatever, and I don’t recall seeing her use recipes very often. 

She was an old-fashioned Southern cook. She made most things from scratch. And she was particular about her ingredients.  

She loved feeding her family, bringing us all together around the table to talk and laugh, to share and remember.  

Once a week she would heat up leftovers from the week and round up anyone who happened to be around, and invite them to supper. Nothing fancy, she’d say, just heating up scraps. You don’t have to bring anything, there’s plenty. 

There always was. My great-aunt Mary always said that if you left the table hungry, after one of my grandmama’s suppers, you had nobody to blame but yourself. 

During Lent this year, as we focus on Jesus as the bread of life, and explore what that means to us.

The bread of life brings us together, just as a family meal, or a meal shared with good friends, or even a meal shared with a complete stranger, is a uniting experience. 

Sharing the bread and wine of Holy Eucharist on a Sunday morning is a uniting experience. 

It brings us together as one family, the church, united in our love for and dependence upon Jesus to feed and nourish our spirits to be his hands in the world. 

United as the church, we reach out into our communities to feed those who are in need. 

Not only to fill their bodies with food, but to fill their spirits with peace and acceptance around his table. 

At my grandmama’s table, there was always room. If someone brought a friend, even unexpectedly, there was always room. And there was always enough. Sometimes too many people meant we kids got to make our plates and go someplace away from the adults, which we loved. But we were never forced away.