“Bread for the Road”

Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost

August 11, 2024

1 Kings 19:3-8

John 6:41-51

Children’s Message:

This is the parable of the starfish. One day an old man was walking along the beach. It was low tide, and the sand was littered with thousands of stranded starfish that the water had carried in and then left behind. The man began walking very carefully so as not to step on any of the beautiful creatures. Since the animals still seemed to be alive, he considered picking some of them up and putting them back in the water, where they could resume their lives. The man knew the starfish would die if left on the beach's dry sand but he reasoned that he could not possibly help them all, so he chose to do nothing and continued walking.

Soon afterward, the man came upon a small child on the beach who was frantically throwing one starfish after another back into the sea. The old man stopped and asked the child, "What are you

doing?" "I'm saving the starfish," the child replied. "Why waste your time?... There are so many you can't save them all so why does it matter?", asked the man. Without hesitation, the child picked up another starfish and tossed the starfish back into the water... "It matters to this one," the child said.

So, you’re starting school this week. Are you ready for another year? Does it seem like school will go on forever and ever? Well, school might not, but learning will. And I hope you don’t stop learning—ever. Sometimes, school might seem overwhelming—like it’s too much and too stressful. But we heard a story today about a man named Elijah. When he felt like life was too much, he took a break. He rested. He ate. And after some time, he was ready to go back out and do his work.

Let’s pray. Dear God, help us find the rest we need when life feels too heavy. Give us what we need to return with energy and hope. Amen.

Message:

Often, the work that we do can feel a lot like saving starfish because the work never seems to end. Whether you’re in law enforcement, trying to keep people from creating dangerous situations; or teachers trying to impart knowledge and wisdom to the next generation; or doctors trying to heal and respond to illnesses; or students trying to keep up with new information. It never ends. The work of faith never ends. And the challenges in life are never really won.

Today, we read about Elijah, one of the major prophets of Israel. He lived in the northern kingdom of Israel under the reign of King Ahab in the 9th Century. In a political move, King Ahab married Jezebel, a Phoenician who worshipped Baal. Under her influence, Ahab invited her religions and her gods into Israel. So, God sent Elijah to challenge Jezebel’s prophets and priests to a divine duel. He won—to the point that he destroyed the false prophets.

When Jezebel learned about this, she put a hit out on Elijah. So, he fled south to Judah and hid in a cave, praying to die. He had done his job, and it wasn’t enough. It was never enough. It IS never enough, it seems. He fell asleep, and after a time, an angel came bringing him bread and water. God didn’t tell Elijah to get back up and get to work. God didn’t expect Elijah to just keep swimming, just keep swimming. God knew Elijah needed nourishment. Rest.

A second time, Elijah falls asleep. And a second time, the angel provides. Elijah eats and is finally ready for the next step in the journey.

His story is similar to the stories of Jonah and Hagar, Moses and Job. In a time when all felt lost, they escaped into the wilderness—literal and spiritual. For some, they prayed for death. For some, they simply fled in fear. For all, God was present. God provided. And they had time to reflect, reframe, and return to the work they were called to do. Work that can often feel overwhelming and unending.

I am notoriously bad at wilderness time—otherwise known as taking vacation. Part of the reason is that it takes so much work to prepare for coverage in my absence; and upon returning, there are always so many emails and assignments to catch up on. It’s easier to just keep working. It’s less hassle.

And going on vacation from a family standpoint is frustrating because we can never decide where to go, how much to spend, or what to do. Everyone in the family needs something different to fill our cups and return refreshed. And how many times do you go on vacation and then need another week to recover from your vacation? What we need—not always what we want—is wilderness time. Simple space. Simple rest. Simple food. Simple life. At least for a time.

It isn’t anything new to point out that we live in a highly distracted society. Someone commented the other day that we have a harder time remembering things because we constantly have information coming our way. Our world is noisy—physically, psychically, audibly, ocularly noisy. If Elijah had to escape to a cave in the wilderness just for some space, consider our need to create space and quiet just to reflect and be properly nourished for the journey ahead.

And I’m not talking about holing yourself up in your house to binge watch Netflix and eat junk food. Or escape into videogame land. Or even escape into a book (my personal preference). These are just ways to numb our minds and bodies. They are ways we use to avoid being present—with ourselves and with God.

Elijah was looking for an escape, as well. He left Israel and fled to Judah. He left his attendant and went to the wilderness. Alone. He hoped to leave the world behind. He prayed for it. But when you finally leave all the noise behind, you find yourself in the uninterrupted presence of God. And that can be both frightening and comforting. Self-imposed, it can be a time of renewal.

Last week, I attended a Justice Summit in Omaha hosted by the NAACP and sponsored by ACLU, Appleseed, the Bar Association, various law enforcement agencies, and more. We heard from people in every facet of the justice system talk about the changes needed to create a more just and effective system. One man, formerly incarcerated as a felon and now an active force for justice, talked about being put in the hole—solitary confinement. He talked about the psychological effects that has on even the best-adjusted people. And folks, most of us really aren’t that well-adjusted to be able to endure that kind of wilderness—especially when we didn’t choose it.

But the comment that stays with me came from the defense attorney on one of the discussion panels. He said, “We can’t expect people to exit an abnormal experience such as prison and act normal in society.” He was referring to how the years, if not decades, of structured and fearful living change a person. And I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for folks who have spent any length of time in prison to adapt to the complex, noisy, bustling life of the world.

But let me reframe the attorney’s comment. “When we spend time in the wilderness, we can expect to engage the world differently.” When we leave the noise—even for a small period of time—we are better prepared to walk differently than before. To live differently. To love differently. That’s what the wilderness does. It changes us. And in the best circumstances, it changes us for the better.

When we meet God in the wilderness, we find rest and are nourished. We are different. Elijah entered the cave desperate and dejected. He had given up. But God didn’t just leave him there to die. Even in those times when we don’t choose the wilderness, God doesn’t leave us. In the dark times, the lonely times, the scary times—God is there. It would be nice if God showed up with a loaf of bread and a container of water, in those obvious elements of comfort. But God is still present, if only in a wafer and a dip of wine; in a small word and a quiet space; in a dark peace and a soft breath. Be assured—God is there.

When Elijah left the cave, he was prepared for the journey ahead. Forty days and forty nights he traveled to Mount Horeb, where God gave Moses the commandments. Forty days and forty nights, like the wilderness experience after Jesus’ baptism. Forty days and forty nights, like Noah’s experience on the ark. Forty and forty, like the years of journey the Hebrews took to the Promised Land. And God was there. And God provided. And God changed them. All of them. And prepared them for the journey to come.

No, the work never ends. Not until the last day. And while it might sound wearying and overwhelming, the good news is that God is with us through every moment, every starfish, transforming us and the world to better receive the nourishment God offers through bread, through water, through breath, through life itself.

Pastor Tobi White

Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church

Lincoln, NE

Additional comments & resources:

 According to Al Barakeh’s Khatieb, the ingredients for bread, particularly wheat, are considered sacred in Jordan. For centuries, wheat was not only the main source of food and calories, but also the social fabric that held communities together. Harvesting wheat was communal work, and that communal spirit, Al Barakeh [a communal spirit built through the sharing of bread], started with the planting and extended to every step of the chain: from leaving the extra grains to birds and ants to baking breads crucial for the meals that nourished entire communities.

“The culture of Al Barakeh sees the individual as part of the whole, rather than as separated from others. We learned that when you take away the main crop, the main source of food from people, you disintegrate the entire community,” says Khatieb.

“It’s easy for us to say that we are preserving the wheat,” she adds. “It’s actually the other way around. The wheat is preserving us.”

https://www.cntraveler.com/story/in-jordan-a-return-to-an-ancient-baking-culture

The bread offered to Elijah was considered most likely a Bedouin type of bread, made by nomads who still populate areas of the Middle East. Abud bread is a traditional Bedouin flatbread from Jordan, known for its unique baking method. Here’s a simple recipe you can try:

Ingredients:

2 cups all-purpose flour

1 cup water

1/2 teaspoon salt

Instructions:

·       Mix the Dough: Combine the flour, water, and salt in a bowl. Mix until you form a smooth dough.

·       Shape the Dough: Divide the dough into small balls and flatten them into thin, round disks.

·       Prepare the Coals: Heat some coals until they are red hot.

·       Bake the Bread: Place the dough disks directly on the hot coals and cover them with more hot coals and ashes. Bake for a few minutes until the bread is cooked through.

·       Clean and Serve: Remove the bread from the coals, brush off any remaining ash, and enjoy!

This bread is dense and chewy, often enjoyed with a cup of hot Arabic coffee or tea.