When I was a pre-teen and young teenager, my paternal grandparents lived about a mile away from us, so we visited them often. My grandfather always brought home candy from where he worked, and my grandmother used to keep a large candy bowl filled with those delicious chocolates. Since we rarely had candy at home, a visit to grandma’s candy bowl was always a treat for us. Of course, dispensing candy was not always at the top of my grandmother’s priorities, so sometimes the offer was not immediately forthcoming. Since we were told not to ask for candy, we sometimes had to resort to fervent looks toward the candy bowl and outright loosely-veiled hints. Eventually the offer would be made, however, and our desire for candy was fulfilled.
I learned at that young age that it was not polite to ask for what I wanted. I would not want to second-guess my parents, who did a wonderful job raising me (you might argue with that) and were very supportive parents in every way, but some would wonder if that was the right lesson to learn.
That brings us to today’s gospel (Luke 11:1-4). The theme is prayer. Jesus returned from praying in a “certain place.” (I love that. Even Jesus had a special place to pray, which was not disclosed publicly so that it—well—so that it remained a good place to pray.) Someone asked Him to teach His disciples to pray, so he did. And the Lord’s Prayer was spelled out for all eternity.
Nowhere in the Lord’s Prayer is there explicit permission to ask for candy from the candy jar. My parents were correct after all. To a point.
“Give us each day our daily bread.”
Now there’s a line worth meditating on. That sounds like asking for something to me. Maybe not candy, but definitely asking for something.
What, exactly, is our daily bread? Well in other Gospel accounts, Jesus promises the Bread of Life that is much better than ordinary bread. Some might interpret that line as asking for the Bread of Life. Others might interpret it as a metaphor for daily Holy Communion, which starts out as bread and wine. Others, probably most people, would interpret it simply as what it says: daily bread.
We need food to survive, and a daily source of food to remain healthy. Sadly, a large proportion of the world’s population does not have this basic need met.
I believe that this line of the Lord’s Prayer invites us to pray about what it is we really need to focus on the other lines of the prayer, and to pray it honestly and completely. If we are truly honest with ourselves, a required condition when we are praying before and with our Lord, we will most likely find that we need much less than we are accustomed to having.
I admit that occasionally I make it a personal mission to appropriately discard things that I really do not need. There are always the poor that will happily take my gently-used items off my hands. Some people use internet-based sales lists as ways to re-distribute their excess items. Not me. And for those of you who do, how about turning around and donating that money to an organization, like the Order of St. John Paul II that works to feed the hungry, helping to give each person their daily bread? I admit that getting rid of unwanted stuff is easy but getting rid of money – “bread” as the beatnik generation called it here in the US in the 1950’s and 1960’s, now that’s a much more difficult mission.
And the candy jar? My grandparents have long-since died, but I can still remember exactly where that candy bowl sat and how it sparkled like Shangri-La; and the sweet smell that greeted us when we lifted that heavy glass lid. Remembering those times, and their love for us, and what we learned around that candy bowl about self-discipline and gratitude, are all part of my daily bread.
Thanks, Grandma and Grandpa!
May God Bless You and Grant You His Peace!