It’s easy for Christians to fall into a rut: Church is a thing you do, prayer is a box to check, and faith seems far from “the real world.” This fall we let Jesus himself confront our ruts. “Do you believe this?” he asks (Jn. 11:26).
To believe in Jesus is to experience him. It’s more than logic, argument, and doctrine. It is intimate knowledge of God himself. This fall, let Jesus himself speak to you in his seven “I AM” statements in the gospel of John. How is he changing you? What response is he inspiring in you? To believe in him changes everything.
Invocation
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Ponder
Today we ponder the I AM statement: “I am the door. If anyone enters by me, he will be saved and will go in and out and find pasture.” Think about your favorite door – your house, your church, a favorite old building, etc. Ponder all the things that doors do – protect, guard, welcome into a home . . . . How is Jesus a door for you?
Word
John 6:33
“For the bread of God is he who comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.”
Meditation: The Miracle of Bread by Megan Roegner
Like many people, during the beginning of the pandemic, I started baking bread. Our family made our own sourdough starter and enjoyed searching for the best artisan recipes and ways to use up endless amounts of starter discard. Unfortunately, the pandemic made it hard to share food with friends, so we were often drowning in baked goods.
Despite our inability to eat all that we made, I kept baking. For me, and I assume for many other bread bakers, the most satisfying part is not the end product but rather the process. Don’t get me wrong—I am a friend of gluten. There are few foods more satisfying than a fresh slice of homemade bread, just slightly warm from the oven, spread with butter. Consuming bread is a completely immersive physical experience—it’s not just the taste that’s satisfying but also the yeasty aroma, the crackling as you cut into it, the soft springiness of the interior compared to the crusty outside, rich brown and dusted with flour.
But while eating bread is a joy, making bread is participating in a tiny miracle. You start with the most basic ingredients—flour, water, and salt—and watch them transform in various stages. Each step requires faith and patience: Will the starter bubble with activity? Will the dough progress from sticky to elastic? When you check on it in the morning after a night rising on the counter will it have doubled in size, bubbles rising right under the surface? Finally, after the oh-so-satisfying process of shaping and scoring the smooth dough into loaves, you place them, covered, in a hot oven. When you take the lid off in forty minutes, will you find a risen masterpiece?
Baking bread requires patience and a willingness to accept that certain elements are intangible and uncontrollable, like the temperature and humidity of your kitchen or the strains of wild yeast in the air. Because of these elusive influences, no two loaves are ever the same—there are mysteries afoot.
How perfect, then, that Jesus, both human and divine, describes himself as the Bread of Life. He is our connection between the material and the spiritual. We see this in Communion, the bread becoming his real presence. And I think we can also see his love transforming the physical world around us in other ways—in a house becoming a home; in a building with a steeple becoming a church; in people who live next to each other becoming neighbors; and in a group of people becoming friends as they break bread.
Jesus, thank you for your presence in things seen and unseen. Help us see you at work in the mysteries around us. Amen.
Prayer
Jesus, you said, “I am the door. If anyone enters by me, he will be saved and will go in and out and find pasture.” I often feel left outside, far from you. Bring me in. Welcome me into the home of your presence. Be my door, for you alone are my security. Amen.
Benediction
The Lord preserve us from all evil; the Lord preserve our souls. The Lord preserve our going out and our coming in, from this time forth, and even forevermore. Amen. (Ps. 121:7-8)