As we arrived at our chapel service on Monday evening, we were asked to take a small container that contained one of four things: flour, salt, yeast and water. We each made our way into the lovely little worship space that holds the oblate’s and brother’s prayers on a daily basis. We were guests here. Guests who had been given the privilege of coming together in the evening to offer our prayers. Prayers of gratitude, hope, weariness and enthusiasm. At an appointed time our worship leader invited us forward to add our ingredients into a large bowl placed on the worship table. Flour first, then salt, followed by yeast and finally water. As scripture was read, songs sung and prayers offered, he slowly and with gentle touch, made bread dough before our eyes. His hands were skilled and familiar with this process. It was a joy to behold.

Yesterday morning as we met and interviewed candidates for ministry, we began to smell the delicious aroma of bread baking from an oven that is in a centrally located kitchen. As we came to refill coffee cups and take bathroom breaks, the sweet smell began to surround everything we were doing. Smiles passed between us. Our bread, made through our worship, was coming into being. At lunchtime, in addition to the meal created by the retreat center staff,there were two beautifully shaped and perfect loaves of honey colored bread. We lined up to receive the slices in the same spirit in which we had received communion the night before. Hands outstretched. Hearts full.

Here was what we had produced. Not individually but all together. Those who had held the flour could not have created the loaf. Those with salt were only salty without the flour. The yeast-holders just carried a minute bit of smelly granules until it was added to the other ingredients. And then there was the water…..ahhhh, the water. All three single ingredients were only dry, dusty particles until the water caused them to come together in a form new to their nature, surprising their components into a fresh and different life.

As I added a little butter to my luscious bread I realized that the bread was an example of what we had been doing all along in our time here together. We had come here with our individual gifts, our own life experiences, our own lens for the world and how we see God’s movement in it. Together we had made something more. As we listened to the faith stories and the calls to ministry of the candidates, at some deep level we understood that not one single person could hear the stories fully. We needed the ingredients of each other to become the fullest body we could be, to create a container of safety and grace for those offering their very lives for our examination. It made the work I know to be holy even more so.

And yet, I believe, this is what we do all the time, isn’t it? In our families, our schools, our work settings, our churches, our nations, our world, we bring our individual gifts for the good of all. I pray that I will be forgiven for the many times I think I carry all the answers, all the ideas, all the ingredients to solve a particular problem or create a specific result to fill a need. I pray I may always remember that I have only my own ingredients to offer.I pray I learn to rely on, expect and anticipate the God-given gifts of all those who travel life’s path with me.

Closing our worship together, the smooth and beautiful round of dough now formed in a clear bowl for us all to see, we prayed these words from a prayer by Graham Sparkes:

‘Be careful when you touch bread.
Let it not lie uncared for….unwanted.
So often bread is taken for granted.
There is so much beauty in bread,
Beauty of sun and soil, beauty of patient toil.
Winds and rain have created it. Christ so often blessed it.
Be gentle when you touch bread.’

For all the gifts we bring, all the ingredients we offer, may we be careful to touch gently and welcome graciously, recognizing the beauty and the blessing that comes individually and creates more than we can imagine. The One who created us has made it so.