The whole process seems sacramental. If you have never listened to Peter Reinhart on Bread, it is well worth the listen. Good as any sermon, filled with wonderful metaphors. Reinhart on Bread Maybe it’s the feeling of the dough and then the rising, the new textures that come out of the oven, the smell and the oven-fresh taste of it, the miracle of yeast and the different things that happens so dramatically and silently. There’s transformation and continuity. I didn’t appreciate this enough growing up in the bakery when I was surrounded by it daily.
Jesus, first Bread blessed and broken, you ask me to be your leaven.
You lift me to your Father and gift me with your loving.
I, just a handful of dough, am asked to be the leaven for a whole batch of people so that faith will rise in hearts. It is humbling to be your leaven.
I, just a handful of dough, am called by you to be kneaded, to bear the imprint of trust, giving life shaped by daily dyings.
I, just a handful of dough, know so little about being leaven.
Yet, you lift me up repeatedly, telling me that you love me, assuring me with the truth that you are my rising strength.
Jesus, first one blessed and broken, make of me a good handful of dough, one who trusts enough to be kneaded, one who loves enough to be shared.
Joyce Rupp