Thursday, April 9, 2020
The Rev. Nathaniel Bourne
Collect
Almighty Father, whose dear Son, on the night before he suffered, instituted the Sacrament of his Body and Blood: Mercifully grant that we may receive it thankfully in remembrance of Jesus Christ our Lord, who in these holy mysteries gives us a pledge of eternal life; and who now lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
Reading
1 Corinthians 11:23-26
I received from the Lord what I also handed on to you, that the Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, "This is my body that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me." In the same way he took the cup also, after supper, saying, "This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me." For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord's death until he comes.
Reflection
We all have our ways of adapting to social distancing, isolation, and the new reality in which we live. I’ve found great solace in my daily walks, runs, and bike rides; in cooking meals and baking bread. It’s been a couple years since I’ve made bread. There are so many great bakeries a short walk or bike ride away. I’ve loved being able to pick up delicious loaves on my way home from the church. But there is something in the process of baking bread myself that even the most delicious roasted garlic loaf from Beach Pea can’t replicate. I think it has to do with the waiting, with knowing that the process isn’t entirely in my control. I am at the mercy of microbes doing their work to leaven the dough and cause it to rise. My wife Nicole put it well when she said the other day, “the phrase ‘give me this day my daily bread’ has taken on new meaning.”
It’s strange to have a Maundy Thursday without communion. We commemorate Jesus’ last supper with his disciples every Sunday, but on this day that last meal comes into sharper focus. This Maundy Thursday feels like an unrisen loaf. It’s missing something. My return to baking has reminded me that things don’t happen on my schedule. We will wait to have communion, to share that meal together. The bread needs to rise and there are forces at work out of our control. While I wish I had it now, I will be all the more grateful when I am able to be with you all again at St. John’s sharing the bread of life.
I wonder how we’ll hear Jesus’ words today. I wonder how he will be present in the bread that we break with our families and people we share our homes with, or by ourselves. It’s not only in the bread of the Eucharist that Jesus is present, but whenever we break bread together.
Question
Where are you being fed this Holy Week? What has been revealed to you in this time of waiting?