“New Light on an Old Prayer”

5. Bread of Life

Matthew 5:1-12

First Presbyterian Church of Jamestown , New York

The Reverend Thomas A. Sweet

March 25, 2007

Lent 5

Sacrament of Holy Communion

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The Chief Executive Officer of Tyson Foods, Inc. manages to arrange a meeting with the Pope at the Vatican .  After receiving a papal blessing, he whispers, “Your Eminence, we’d like to present you with an offer.  Tyson Foods is prepared to donate a hundred million dollars to the Church if you are willing to change the Lord’s Prayer from ‘give us this day our daily bread’ to ‘give us this day our daily chicken.’’’  The Pope says to the CEO, “That is impossible.  The Lord’s Prayer is the word of the Lord and must not be changed.”  

Undaunted, the Tyson chief whispers again to the Pope, “We anticipated your reluctance.  So, we are going to increase our offer to three hundred million dollars.  All we require is that you change the Lord’s Prayer from ‘give us this day our daily bread’ to ‘give us this day our daily chicken.’”  Again, the Pope replies, “I’m sorry.  That’s just not possible.  The Lord’s Prayer is the word of the Lord and must not be changed.”  

One more time, the Tyson CEO draws close to the Pope, “Your Holiness, Tyson Foods respects your strong adherence to your faith, but we would like to make one final offer.  We are willing to donate five hundred million dollars to the Catholic Church if you will change the Lord’s Prayer from ‘give us this day our daily bread’ to ‘give us this day our daily chicken.’  Don’t give me your answer now.  Sleep on it.”  

The next day the Pope convenes the College of Cardinals.  “I have,” he says, “some good news and some bad news.”  “The good news is that the Church has come into half a billion dollars.”  “And the bad news, Father?” asks one of the cardinals.  “What is the bad news?”  

“Well, it looks like we’re going to be losing the Wonder Bread account.”  

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   

Okay, okay bad joke.  Don’t send me cards and letters.  I love the Catholics!  But I am glad that the prayer as it originally was given has survived.  “Give us this day our daily bread.”  It really would take some getting used to, would it not, to pray, “Give us this day our daily chicken.”  It also would complicate things here at the Communion Table.  But it may be that bread is not the most important word in this portion of the Lord’s Prayer but rather the words us and our.  They are a reminder of the unrelenting and unremitting social nature not only of the Prayer, but of God.  When we set a trap to catch the dream of God in our lives, which is the Aramaic meaning of prayer, or when we attune ourselves to the divine reverie, we shall find always that it is all-inclusive.  It is never the case that our religion is between “Thee and me.”  It is always “Thee and me and we.”  

Now the symbolism of bread is not unimportant.  From the daily bread-like manna of the Exodus wilderness to the storied birth of Jesus in Bethlehem , a Hebrew word whose literal translation is “house of bread,” to the parabolic multiplication of loaves and fish, bread has been a significant biblical metaphor both of physical and soulful sustenance.  And as we see again today in the sacrament we call the Lord’s Supper, Jesus himself used bread as a symbol in which to unite the material and spiritual dimensions of a fully human life, bread becoming a tangible sign of God’s presence and promise in a world in which earth still falls short of heaven.  When you hold the bread in your hands this morning, before you eat it, press it to your lips and hold it there for a moment as our mothers and fathers in the faith did a long time ago.  They did that, holding bread to their lips, as a show of gratitude for God’s presence and as a sign of their commitment to participate in fulfilling God’s promise of a world in which all who are hungry get satisfied.  

The Lord’s Prayer does not allow us to forget those who lack the most basic of necessities; indeed, it binds us to them inextricably as we pray, “Give me this day my daily bread”?  No, we pray, we say, “Give us this day our daily bread.”  This can be a problem for people like us who are sure of our next meal because there is no way for us to pray this prayer in spirit and in truth without including in our consciousness our hungry neighbors both near and far.  There is no way for us to pray this prayer with integrity without joining the struggle to banish from the earth the scourge of hunger.  It is yet another opportunity to behold, to see, to practice “the oneness of all life.”  

The Lord’s Prayer falls easily off our lips as we say it Sunday after Sunday and so we sing it here on “Communion Sundays” in the hope that we might hear it periodically with fresh ears.  The truth is that there are over six billion people now sharing this planet with us and over half of them suffer some degree of malnourishment.  Hungry faces abound and, if we look at them with spiritual eyes, we see that the image of God is being disfigured and desecrated in each of them.  If we had the technology here in the sanctuary, I would display for you on a screen for the next five minutes a slideshow of some of those faces, not to make us feel guilty, but as a way of making us aware once again what is at stake when we prayer, as a way of asserting once more that the purpose of prayer is not so much informational as it is formational.  Our full and true humanity is being formed as we pray in the way that Jesus taught us.  

What the Lord’s Prayer does is to teach us in no uncertain terms that we are first of all members of the human family and only derivatively or secondarily are we Americans.  Or Koreans.  Or Germans.  Membership in any particular political or cultural community does not determine our first allegiance.  Our first and primary solidarity is with human beings everywhere.  The kingdom of God values an Iraqi life as much as an American life, a Palestinian life as much as an Israeli life.  It values the life of a child in Darfur as much as it values the lives of our own children.  Human solidarity trumps provincial solidarity. (1)  That is what we confess every time we pray the Lord’s Prayer and say the words, “Give us this day our daily bread.”  

When I first contemplated this sermon, I had planned to talk about spiritual bread and even chose as our text the sentence from the Beatitudes in which Jesus said, “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.”  I was justified in doing so, I believed, by the fact that a second definition of the word for bread in the Aramaic language is ideas and even truth.  So, “give us this day our daily truth” would have been the crux of what I would have said and I would have expanded on that.  But it occurred to me that only those whose physical needs are met have the luxury of spiritualizing this prayer.  So for me and us to do that would be a betrayal of all our brothers and sisters who yet suffer the dispiriting pangs of hunger, the ignominy of the inability to feed their children, and the hopelessness of helplessness.  Indeed, Jesus later pressed the plain sense of this prayer when he said, “Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world, for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink…”  

So, indeed, as the poet suggests, “Let us break bread together; let us drink wine together; let us praise God together…” realizing that the together about which the poet writes is not limited to those who are present in this room or to those partaking of the sacrament today, but to the whole human family.  As we lift the bread to our mouths and the cup to our lips, we are signing a promissory note in the name of God to face toward the rising sun of that day when no one any longer will hunger or hurt in all of God’s holy creation.  

“Give us this day our daily bread.”  Indeed!  

Amen.  

(1)  Shriver, Jr., Donald W., The Lord’s Prayer: A Way of Life.  Atlanta : John Knox Press, 1980, p. 50.

© Copyright First Presbyterian Church 2007

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