Bread of Life

I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst.

John 6:35

The Bread of Life has come down from heaven.

The Bread of Life has come down from heaven!

Oh, let us hear it again: the Bread of Life. Has come down. From heaven.

Can you feel it? Can you grasp it? Can you let it take hold of you? The very sustenance of the universe, the bread of angels; a supersubstantial nourishment that can feed our eternal souls and bind up our broken hearts, has taken on flesh and dwelt among us. This is no mere metaphor, no poetic flourish – this is the raw, pulsing heart of reality itself.

From the whispered promises in Eden, rising up like a mist from the ground, to the manna falling like dewdrops in the wilderness; from the widow’s never-empty flour jar to the Bread of the Presence that sustained David’s rebel band; from miraculous feast for five thousand to the eternal wedding feast of the Lamb; the story is always, has always been the same. God, in His relentless, reckless love, is about the business of feeding His people. But now – oh glorious now! – the symbol has become substance, the shadow has given way to light, and the Bread of Life stands before us with arms outstretched.

In Him, we find a feast that never ends, a table that’s always set, a welcome that never wavers. In Him, all the families of the earth are blessed, drawn in, from the East and from the West, from the North and from the South, because He has been lifted up from the earth; because this Grain of Wheat has fallen to the ground and died; because it has grown up and borne much fruit, and been ground afresh and baked into this One Bread that is his One Body. This is grace upon grace, love heaped on love, mercy flowing like rivers in the desert. With every morsel we taste, every crumb we gather, we are drawn deeper into the heart of the Divine.

And here’s the beautiful paradox: as we are fed, we become bread for others. As we are nourished, we become nourishment. Like the food which a nursing mother eats, which is transformed within her into the feast of love that sustains her suckling child, the love that fills us to overflowing spills out of us, spalshing wastefully on an irredeemably parched earth; yet all at once feeding a hungry world. We who were once scattered like grains on the hillside, are gathered and ground by grace, kneaded by mercy, and baked in the fiery love of God to become one loaf – the very Body of Christ in the world.

Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good! Come to the feast, you who are weary and heavy-laden. Come, you who hunger for righteousness. Come, you who thirst for love that will never run dry. The table is set, the bread is broken, and the cup overflows. Here, in this holy meal, heaven touches earth, eternity kisses time, and we are remade in the image of Love itself.

Let us marvel at this mystery, let us revel in this grace. For in the breaking of the bread, we find ourselves made whole. In the sharing of the cup, we find our hearts expanded. And in the simple act of eating and drinking together, we find ourselves caught up in the very life of God – a life of unending love, of radiant grace, of astonishing, world-transforming power.

This is the feast that never ends, the love that never fails, the grace that never runs dry. This is the Bread of Life, come down from heaven. Take, eat, and be forever changed.

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