Bread from Heaven
"So, we are talking today in our readings about bread that came from heaven. Manna. A flakey substance left on the ground, every morning. There were restrictions. God said to Moses, this was a test."
She has been preaching to the people for three months. She is the shepherd of a flock that belongs to the Lord. The gathering isn't large. The church is small, just a simple white church on a knoll with a steeple in need of paint and new pews. The tiny building has a bell that calls out to worshipers every morning.
This, with all its scars, is a piece of heaven.
"Now put your self in the same position as the Israelites. It's difficult to imagine living in the times of ancient Egypt. The clothing styles, the food they ate. All that is so foreign to our way of thinking. Even the wilderness that the chosen people wandered through is something most of us have never experienced."
She steps away from the pulpit. She isn't a big woman. She is rather petite. Her hair is black, tied back in a simple ponytail. She has yet to see her twenty-fifth year. Her father is pastor of this church. He has been for her entire lifetime. She was raised in the parsonage. In her father's illness, she has given her heart and soul to the congregation that had always been her family, until her father would be able to return.
Her hands are clammy. She wipes them on her black slacks. She needs to keep this remnant of worshippers on the path toward Jesus. She prays nightly for her father's full recovery, for guidance and for the ability to accept the responsibility for this tiny gathering of the Lord's sheep.
"Let me tell you a story. There is a rich man. He is abundantly wealthy. One day he comes up to you and says, 'I'm going to ease all your struggling'. Kind of sounds like the government... doesn't it." Her joke receives a chuckle. She continues, "I mean we feel these same kinds of difficulties... right. You pay for the roof over your families head. You pay to keep the furnace running. And after all that you scrap some coins together to buy food. That... we can all relate to. So, this man makes an offer, he says 'I know that you have it hard, trying to make ends meet and I'm going to help. I am going to give you, every week, enough money to buy groceries for you and your family. One rule that you must follow, you must purchase only enough for the one week'.
"Now we're all human. We are full of these human weaknesses. And we might justify our desire to find a work around to that one single rule. I might use my family as justification. So might you. So, the man gives. We all eat fill. But then, we start taking from the store a little more than we need. Oh, it's all paid for. We're not stealing from the store. But we're not following the one rule.
"The rich man discovers his folly in trusting you and me. He confronts us... you, me everyone who who abused his generosity.
"He says, 'I gave freely to all I deemed as poor. I told you not to hoard, yet you did. Some will pass the test. More will fail'. Nothing more needed to be said. The man walked away and left the people, left us, struggling to shelter ourselves, keep warm, and ease our hunger.
"My family," she continues, "when God offers you your daily bread, take what He gives and expect nothing more."
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