Advent 1-House of Bread
There is a coffee shop called Bongo Java in Nashville practically adjacent to Belmont University’s campus where I went to college. It opened my last semester on campus. Bongo Java likes to say they opened way before “Nashville was cool and cold brew was hot.” In 1996, something happened that gave this little local coffee shop its 15 minutes of fame. Early one September morning, a long-time employee took a cinnamon bun from the counter to have with his coffee. And just as he was about to take a bite, he stopped short. Because he noticed something unusual about the pastry. Could it be? The golden-baked, hand-made roll looked strangely like the face of Mother Teresa. He couldn’t eat that! Others (sortof) concurred as he presented it to patrons throughout the day to get their opinions. And thus the NunBun was born.
The NunBun wasn’t an instant sensation, but more of an inhouse curiosity. As word spread over the next several weeks, they would take “her” out of the freezer to show someone who inquired. Eventually, she was shellacked and kept in a homemade shrine that was spray painted gold and encircled by red and green Christmas lights. This created enough of a stir that The Tennessean newspaper ran the story of the NunBun on Christmas Day that year which led to national news coverage (!!!) of the Immaculate Confection and a website received over 1M hits in 30 days. (long before social media, this was remarkable for 1996). Folks went crazy over the Holy Rolly. It wasn’t long before Bongo Java’s owner heard from Mother Teresa’s attorney… Negotiations and agreements needed to be reached… Just before Mother Teresa died (Sept 5, 1997) she had a meeting with the woman who was to replace her as head of Missionaries of Charity and her attorney (who relayed this story). They talked about all sorts of stuff that had to be settled – including the proposed NunBun agreement whereby Bongo Java would sell only a limited amount of merchandise, wouldn’t mass produce similar cinnamon buns and would use the term NunBun instead of Immaculate Confection. During the meeting, Mother Teresa smiled, pointed to her replacement and told her attorney “You tell them to find a cinnamon bun that looks like her.”[1]
A story about an immaculate confection seemed somewhat appropriate as we gather around the Lord’s Table later this morning. You may not see the face of Christ in your wafer today, but the challenge is to look for Jesus in the faces of those who serve you and in those around you.
Here we are on this first Sunday of Advent being called to a discipline of hope. I can’t think of anything that people need more than hope. Hope is like the aroma of hot, fresh bread being baked. You can’t see it yet or taste it, but you can imagine it. Your mouth waters at the thought because it knows fresh bread’s warm and wonderful goodness.
For the next four weeks, we will review scenes of Jesus’ life and ministry paired with glimpses from that holy night as told by Luke. And you will hear scripture from the prophets who foretold the coming of one who would bring righteousness and justice - like we heard from Jeremiah today. Listen and let the retelling of this ancient story unfold in you. Let the truth of God’s hand at work across time renew your hope in what God is still doing…
Bethlehem is a historic city that overlooks the central part of the West Bank and is surrounded by the Judean rolling hills, olive groves, and terraced fields. Bethlehem’s location has long made it a significant cultural and religious crossroads in the region, as it lies on ancient trade and pilgrimage routes that connect it with Jerusalem and other historic sites in the Holy Land.[2]
Bethlehem’s Hebrew name, Bet Lechem (בֵּית לֶחֶם), literally translates to “house of bread,” likely reflecting the city’s role as a fertile agricultural region known for its grain production and bread-making.
In a town named, “House of Bread” – a baby was born to a young, unwed mother while traveling with her soon to be husband. This baby’s mother would swaddle him the best she could and place her firstborn in a manger, that is a food trough for animals, because there was nowhere else to lay him. That is verse 7 of Luke 2. And for Luke, it all begins with the manger. But more on that later. For now, consider, Is there any wonder that this man, born in a bread town and laid in a food trough, would grow up to feed multitudes and call himself, the Bread of Life? (John 6:35).[3]
We are experts in knowing this “Bread-side” of Jesus, aren’t we? We studied John 6 back in August and considered every way that Jesus lives up to that name, “Bread of Life.” That series began with John’s version of the Feeding of the Five Thousand. Today, we heard it out of Matthew’s gospel. Matthew wants readers to notice that Jesus didn’t do as many miracles for the crowds in Nazareth because of their lack of faith. Nazareth is where his family settled after his birth in Bethlehem. Nazareth was his parents’ hometown. There they must have had a hard time thinking of Jesus in any way other than Joseph’s son. But when he moved on from there, the faith of the crowds revealed their HOPE in Jesus’ power. They bring him all the sick - like the friends who brought the paralytic. They believe because they have seen a woman’s hope when she reached out to touch the hem of his cloak – and was healed (*snap*). The crowd’s faith in Jesus stands in contrast to that of the disciples. So, after a long day of teaching, the disciples lack the confidence to imagine anything else other than a bunch of hangry folks if they don’t instruct them to all go home where they can take care of their own appetites. But it’s Jesus who says, “You give them something to eat.” Disciples of the man born in a bread town doubt Jesus’ call for them to feed the hungry. Followers of the one who gazed upon the world for the first time from a feeding trough have no concept of his capacity to fill hungry bellies.[4] They say, “We have nothing here but five loaves and two fish (14:17).”
When the miracle of the loaves and fishes occurred in their midst, the disciples slowly began “to learn of Jesus’ capacity to supply in abundance.” And perhaps while they walk around to pick up the twelve basketfuls of leftovers, they begin to understand Jesus has called them to feed the people. The miracle is not only the multiplication of loaves and fish; it is actually the hope that Jesus wants his disciples and followers to see from him, to embrace for themselves. A hope born out of his overwhelming compassion for physically and spiritually hungry people. [5]
Luke, alone, includes the early post-natal details of Jesus’ birth. And while the updated translation of the New Revised Standard Version translates what was previously understood as Inn to “guest room,” the fact remains that lodging for travelers was in short supply and Luke called the place where Mary laid Jesus, a manger. Did Mary realize, when she had no other choice but to lay her baby in a manger, that he would one day say, “this is my body, broken for you, take and eat?” No she couldn’t possibly have known that. The unexpectedness of the manger invites our curiosity this Advent season. “The manger is where Jesus descends to the lowest place in the world, while at the same time, bonds with his mother on a night of joy and relief, exhaustion and uncertainty. ” The manger shapes what we know and believe about Jesus, the Christ. It represents a convergence of two directions – ‘down to’ and ‘with’ – illustrating who Jesus is and what he does. He comes to us as God’s beloved and begotten (vertically) but does not rule over us. Instead, he works among us, forming friendships, loving the unlovely, calling the ordinary, all to build a kin’dom of God (having horizontal, relational impact).[6]
From the manger, hope grows. Hope that defies fear and despair. Hope that begets love and mercy.
Recently, I saw a photo from a town in western North Carolina still reeling from Hurricane Helene. Debris of all kinds piled high outside a home. A crib mattress teetering on the top of the pile. It was a ruined reminder of what had been a safe place for a sleeping child. Temporary fencing that kept it all from sliding into the road displayed a spray-painted message, “Better days are coming!” HOPE! In the miracle of the loaves and fish, the crowds and the disciples got the message, “Better days are coming.”
This season, where does hope need to grow in your life? The One who was laid in a trough to feed animals, wants to be in a relationship with you. It was Mother Teresa who said, Hope sees the invisible, feels the intangible, and achieves the impossible. There is no part of you – physical or spiritual – that is too dark, too needy, too hungry, too emaciated, too poor that Jesus doesn’t want to bring hope to it. He came (from God above - vertically) to be in relationship with all of you.
Amen.
[1]https://www.bongojava.com/pages/nunbun?srsltid=AfmBOopRKpEpbSHFWZM_06xXYiGrnnzBdijpRWBFSydhq9ZuYaZhBu-e
[2] Text generated by ChatGPT, November 23, 2024, OpenAI, https://chat.openai.com
[3] Advent One Hope Grows ©2024 Illustrated Ministry
[4] Garland, David E. Reading Matthew ©1993 Matthew 14:13-36
[5] ibid.
[6] Advent One Hope Grows Illustrated Ministry