Body Broken for Others
I recently read the story of a couple called Ann and Howard
and their son Scotty who was celebrating his seventh birthday
Ann wanted to throw a birthday party for her son,
and so she went down to her neighborhood baker.
He was sort of a gruff, humorless man
who never had a kind word to say to anyone.
He did not greet her with a “Hello,” or "How can I help you?"
He just pushed the loose-leaf binder
containing all the photos of all the cake samples
and asked her to pick one out.
She excitedly chose one of the cakes.
It was a cake in the shape of a rocket with stars and planets on it,
with the words "Happy Birthday Scotty" in the icing.
She left the bakery without even as much as a
"Thank you for your order;" or anything from the baker.
All he said was "It will be ready on Monday morning,
in time for the Monday evening party."
Unfortunately, the party never happened.
On Monday morning, Scotty was hit by a car on the way to school.
His mother Ann and his father Howard
immediately brought him to the hospital and
he was admitted to intensive care.
They stayed up all night at his bedside
but unfortunately Scotty died on Tuesday morning.
They were completely devastated.
When they eventually arrived back in their home late Tuesday,
there was a list of messages left on the answering machine
from the boorish baker.
The messages had become increasingly more hostile.
The first started out as, "Your cake is ready. Come and get it."
The second message said,
"I don't know if you've forgotten your son Scotty or not,
but the cake is here."
The third one said, "Hey, your cake! Did you forget your son?"
And the fourth one was the last straw:
"Listen. I bake the cake. You buy it.
That is the way it works."
When they listened to the last message,
they just couldn't take it anymore.
Even though it was late at night they went to the bakery.
They went to the back door knowing that the baker lived there.
They knocked and knocked on the door until he answered.
They identified who they were and baker recognized Ann
and with great anger said,
"Listen, I work 16 hours a day trying to make a living
and here you are, knocking on my door after hours.
It's not good enough that I left you four messages
but now, after hours, you come and ask for your cake now.
Yeah. Fine. I'll get the cake."
And he opened up the door.
He turned around and the mother Ann said,
"My son is dead. He died on Monday morning,
but you could not have known that. Could you?
But still, it would have been nice
if you could have had a bit of compassion."
Just then, the boorish baker's anger melted at the news.
He dropped his face, opened the door and started to cry.
He said, "I'm sorry. I should have, I couldn't, I'm so sorry.
I couldn't have known. Please forgive me.
Please, come in just for a moment."
And he pulled out two chairs in the bakery.
He said, "I'm not sure what happened;
somewhere in my life--somewhere things went wrong.
I'm now a baker for so many years,
I have forgotten and lost a lot of the heart that I had.
I'm sorry for your loss but please forgive me.
I did not know and I'm sorry for treating you the way that I did.
You must be hungry.
You probably have not eaten.
Come, I have just baked some cinnamon rolls.
Please come in and have a cup of coffee."
And there, late at night, they sat down and
they shared some warm cinnamon rolls with some coffee
and shared the pain that they had in life together.
Ann and Howard the loss of their 7-year-old son,
and the baker with the loss of so many things over a lifetime.
The couple stayed into the wee hours of the morning
and together they shared a moment of compassion,
a moment of humanity.
Today's feast day is about the Body and Blood of Christ,
but it is not only what we do up here at the table we celebrate
as much as what we do with what we receive from here.
We are called to be the Body of Christ broken for others;
we are called to be the blood of Christ poured out for others.
In today’s gospel we hear about the feeding of the 5,000.
The real miracle here is not only what Christ does
but how Jesus completes it.
Jesus tells his disciples to “feed them yourselves.”
In other words, there is enough for all if we share.
We, too, are called to share what we have with others in need.
There is enough for all.
I am not just talking about financial sharing
but sharing our very selves as well.
We don't know what people's lives are like.
Most often, we only get a tiny glimpse into their life.
We have no idea of the suffering people may go through.
We have no idea what their home life is like;
what their work life is like.
We have no idea how difficult their lives might be.
For us, our role is to become human to them;
to become compassionate to them;
to become Christ to them.
This requires of us an awareness of self and others;
requires of us to step out of ourselves for a moment
and to realize that others have pain too, not just us;
that others have much more complexity to their lives.
So if we really want to celebrate the Body and Blood of Christ
then we are called to become the Body and Blood of Christ.
It is the simple things we do:
the way that we will listen to our spouse
after a long and hard day;
the simple way we will listen intently to our children
who are struggling with what we might consider pettiness at school;
or the way we are willing to listen and engage a neighbor or friend
who is suffering from something we maybe don't understand;
our willingness to be with them.
Today, we celebrate the Body and Blood of Christ,
his promise of love and presence to us.
Our role then is to become that loving presence to others,
to be the Body broken for others;
to be the Blood poured out for others.
1: “Connections” (Mediaworks, Londonderry, NH: June 6, 2010) p.1
