4-14-22 LEAVENING

I live in a body that deals with ADD, Attention Deficit Disorder. I did not know this about myself until I was old. I'm sad about that, because I think I might have been much more gentle and forgiving with myself had I known. When I was young the kids with ADD were the ones who were bonkers in class, who bounced around the room and talked incessantly and had difficulty staying on subject. They drove the teacher crazy. I was not a room bouncer, so I never gave myself the benefit of thinking there might be something awry in my body as opposed to faulty will-power. Why are we all so hard on ourselves? This morning it took me trying to remind myself what I was doing seven times before I finally decided it was a day for medication (I am careful of that.) I could not walk through a single doorway and remember what I had intended to do. It's mentally exhausting! My days are filled with "I should's" and "Maybe I'll's". It's really hard to stay focused on anything that is not super-interesting, and even then, I struggle.

 Then again, I thought that maybe because I am impulsive and easily distracted, I will allow myself to muse and research leavening instead of mopping the floor. Dirty floors will always be with me. They can wait while I focus on Jesus. He himself alluded to such when he rebuked Judas for complaining about Mary Magdalene's impulsive use of holy oil.

Mark 14:7  

For ye have the poor with you always, and whensoever ye will ye may do them good: but me ye have not always.

Anyway, I digress (because I have ADD. Duh.) I spent some time this morning studying up on leavening. I had made bread last night, easy artisan bread with crunchy crust and soft insides. Then this morning I started thinking about Passover and the unleavened bread that serves as a reminder of the Jews leaving Egypt before their bread had time to rise. My thoughts went back to Middle School where my friend Betsy always brought Matzoh bread to school for lunch during Passover. Matzoh with peanut butter was her go-to Passover meal. She was generous to share not only her unleavened crackers, but her family religious practices and traditions with me. Religious practices eventually become traditions when belief wanes.  (I digress again.)

Unleavened Matzoh bread.

Because I carry this little virtual library around in my pocket, I searched the history of leavening. Then I searched Passover. And then at what point in the religious year did the Last Supper take place? Today marks Maundy Thursday, the day Christians commemorate the Last Supper and the washing of the apostles' feet and the giving of the New Commandment (Maundy means mandate or commandment.)

The Gospels are not consistent about when that Last Supper took place in the upper room. Some say it was the great Passover feast. Others say it was before Passover, and that Jesus would have died before Passover, because the ones who convicted Him wanted it all to be over before the holy day. Some believe he died as Passover began, his blood spilling as the true Sacrificial Lamb, foretold with blood that was brushed over the doorways of faithful Jews.

The Last Supper by DaVinci

This is one of those times when the Holy Spirit inside me whispers, don't get stuck on the timeline. Get stuck, instead, on the gift. Rejoice in the gift.

We no longer need to go without leavening. He offered, in that Last Supper, newness. A new commandment. A new Sacrament. He is the leavening that helps me rise above myself. He works in me to lift me. He breathes air into my flesh. His purposes are without meaning without us. His presence is activated with warmth (The Holy Spirit)  and water (Baptism)  and the passing of time (Our limited earthly existence, regulated by time.) His sacrament represents all of this to me. Every Sabbath I lift my hand and choose the bread, freshly made in the ovens of my sister Ann Marie. I take it in remembrance of His power and perfect love. It is light and tasty and nourishing.  He gives us beauty for ashes, light for darkness, new life for what is passed. 

My sister, Ann Marie, bakes bread every Saturday
for our church congregation to use in the Holy Sacrament.
She consecrates herself unawares as she does this.
Here's a photo of my family assembling Orphan Care Packages
 to sell at my Christmas concerts. Fresh bread
and home made raspberry jam, cocoa and more.
Ann Marie made 100 loaves last year.
(That's her in the white shirt in the middle.
Masks for the pandemic. In 20 years when my
great-grandchildren read this they will wonder
what's with the masks?)