I’m passionate about bread-baking. I love everything about it—the yeasty smell, the kneading, the shaping, and the smell as it bakes. If you ask me about baking bread, my social filters will immediately disappear and I will proceed to talk endlessly about loaves that are slow fermented versus a fast ferment, the qualities of hard wheat and soft wheat, using sprouted grains leftover from beer-making to flavor bread, and creating a sourdough starter. When your eyes begin to glaze over, that will not stop me. I may regain your interest when I mention that bread rises due to yeast farts, only to lose it once more when I begin to explain the differences between bigas, soakers, starters, or a poolish. (Yes, poolish is a real word.) You may try to edge away, now knowing more about bread than you ever cared to know. The plus side is that when people show great interest in bread conversation, I usually bring them a loaf of bread at some point. As you can see, baking bread brings me great joy, and it has also become a spiritual practice. With the word “bread” being mentioned at least 492 times in the Bible in the original languages, as well as being an important element of the sacrament of communion, it is not hard for me to see the kingdom of God breaking in when I make bread.
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| Photo Credit: Mike Kenneally |
In the following clean up time? Not so much. Kneading dough on my kitchen counter leaves a sticky residue that is difficult to remove—it will quickly gum up any dishcloth and usually requires a good scraping. If you walk away for a well-deserved cup of coffee, you will return to find that any dough left on the bowl or utensils has hardened to the consistency of cement and will need to be chipped away with a knife. And since I am a messy baker, dough bits are everywhere. At this point in the process, I’d love to be a celebrity chef with an assistant to do the clean up.
Unfortunately, no matter how I read it, Colossians 3:23 reads “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters.” It does not say, “You only have to work for the Lord doing things you love.” What a bummer. But the discipline of working for the Lord, cooperating with grace and gratitude begins in the little things, each and every day. It means growing an attitude along with an action. Jesuit Brother Rick Curry, author of “The Secrets of Jesuit Breadmaking” recounts that the Rule of St. Benedict reminds the monks to regard all the utensils of the monastery as if they were sacred vessels of the altar. Kitchen rules dictated that if a spoon was dropped, the monk who dropped it was to bend down and kiss it. It created a respect for the commonplace tools of the kitchen. (If this were the rule in my kitchen, I would spend a lot of time on my hands and knees.) But the idea is sound—all the work we do, big or little, loved or endured, is sacred work, a chance to participate with God’s transforming work in us and in our world.
I think there is a reason Jesus uses so many common things to talk about the kingdom of God. Salt. Light. Bread. Seeds. Coins. Yeast. Easy to understand, yes, but they also show God’s kingdom breaking through and illuminating the ordinary, everyday tasks of life. Shoveling snow is kingdom work, feeding a baby is kingdom work, web design is kingdom work, homework is kingdom work, serving coffee is kingdom work, delivering mail is...well, you’re a smart person, you know where this is going.
“Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart,
as working for the Lord…” Colossians 3:23
[Sandy Navis is happily retired and spends her days doing pretty much whatever she wants to do. She is a firm believer in the power of laughter, singing while doing the dishes, crazy dancing while cleaning house, and eating chocolate every day. Sandy has three grandkids, who she loves to talk about even more than breadmaking.]
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