The Theology of Bread

For the longest time, I never understood why God always would refer to Himself as the “bread of life”. I, for one, don’t really eat a lot of bread, living in the United States. At home, the word “bread” makes me think of what bookends a piece of meat and some vegetables, or a side dish to go along with a really fancy meal. There are other times that “bread” makes me think of bakeries and coffeehouses, but I often don’t have enough money to eat at those places. And even at those places where bread is the main attraction, it often is because of the special condiments inside the bread, such as cheese, fruit, sweets, and so on. Bread is always an afterthought at home; something that gets butter or jam slathered across its surface, or topped with cheese, before being halfway eaten and given as leftovers to the family pet. No one in middle-class America cries over a lost piece of bread. Why? Because it’s bread, and if you really want some, you can get some for a little over a dollar at your local grocer. Even if you’re homeless, and don’t have that dollar, it’s not hard to find a soup kitchen or shelter that has some handy.

But this was all before I came to Ecuador. I’m not going to tell you that I live in a little thatched hut surrounded by trees, where half-naked people with bones through their noses serve me bread. Because while that would make for an entertaining story, it would also be a big fat lie. I live in a nice home here, with bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, a living room, and so on. But here, bread is life. I’ve never been much for bread back home, because the words “carb-conscious” or images of overweight people always swim around in my head every time my eyes find themselves staring upon a piece of baked goodness. I often will take off the bread in a sandwich, to cut back on calories and get rid of the fat on my body that never seems to go away.

Living here changed that for me, though, because I’m served foods with carbohydrates four times a day, and if I don’t eat, then I starve. Breakfast often consists of bread, juice, and coffee. Sometimes eggs are served, but even when they are, two eggs are cooked for the entire family, which are then divided equally for each member. Lunch often consists of pasta soup, an entree with rice, potatoes, a portion of fish or chicken, popcorn, bread, and juice to drink. Merienda (an evening snack) is more bread, served with coffee. Finally, dinner consists of the little meat that is leftover, served over rice, with potatoes, bread, popcorn, and juice to drink.

As someone who grew up obese, and to this day has a slow metabolism, there were many times when starving seemed like a very desirable option. But my host family would have none of this. My host family would go so far as to try to convince me in Spanglish that there were certain kinds of bread that would help “carb-conscious” people lose weight. At home, I live on a diet of fruits, vegetables, a little bit of lean meat here and there, water, tea, and coffee. With the exception of the occasional cookie, I virtually eat no sweets at home. I don’t put sugar in my tea or in my coffee, and I don’t eat bread. Not only do I feel better from living on this diet, I have lost a lot of weight from it. So when my family gave me the the “carb-conscious” bread to eat, I didn’t really believe them. As far as I was concerned, I was beginning to think that my host family was part of a conspiracy that involved finding out what I ate at home, choosing the polar opposite of those foods, and making everything that I do not eat the national diet of a small country.

But as I watched the way other people eat here, I began to realize that everyone is not eating this way because they are a part of a national conspiracy. Everyone is eating this way because this is the food they have. “Variety” is not a part of the language or the consciousness in Ecuador. Life and diet are simple here. Living in America makes me forget this at times, where life and diet are not so simple. The main diet here is a supplementary side dish on the family table at home. Growing up with variety has made me come to expect it. Whenever my family has leftovers from a previous meal, we save it in the refrigerator for days, so that variety is preserved. Here, the leftovers from lunch are dinner served, and no one says a word. Whenever my family goes out to eat, we make sure to choose a restaurant that we have not eaten in a while, so that variety is preserved. And as variety is preserved by going to these different places, we choose different items off the menu than before. Here, my host family takes me to the same restaurants, and we order the same things. Even at different restaurants, the menu is virtually the same: some form of meat with rice, potatoes, bread, and juice. Because of this, many restaurants don’t even have menus.

It took me a while to figure out that variety comes from wealth. And it was after I finally understood this that the menus and similar entrees made sense. The wealth we have as Americans gives us access to variety. And when all we understand is variety, we forget bread. We forget what we have to have to live day-to-day, because we are all so busy looking up and down long menu lists and salad bar options, trying to decide what we want. It’s sad we waste our time with such trivialities while people in other countries starve, simply wanting bread. It wasn’t until I went to another country that I understood why people would want bread. Bread is universal. It is the most basic of sustenance, and is easy to make. It doesn’t cost much, either. Bread is accessible to anyone with flour, yeast, and a stove. It fills you up, and it gives you energy to go on and about your life. Bread gives you life, and anyone can have it.

It’s interesting that the more money people seem to have, the less bread they choose to eat, and the less money people seem to have, the more they choose to talk about God. This is not to say that money in itself is bad. Neither is the variety that comes with having money. But variety can be bad in that it gives us so many options and so many choices; so much variety, that we don’t know what to do with it, other than to live with variety. I don’t know anyone with money that chooses to live on bread alone. They move on to bigger and better things, like fine wine and steak. Bread sits in a basket on the table behind the fine wine and steak, like God in a church service on Sunday. This is when I realized why God constantly reminds us that He is the bread of life and not the steak of life, or the multivitamin of life. God is simple like bread, and is available to anyone, regardless of wealth. He may not make our lives a world of flavor, but He’s really all we need to live. We need Him not as a supplement, next to steak and fine wine, or only on Sunday. We need Him all the time.

Many of my friends talk about what they are going to eat when they return to the States. I’ve been dying for sushi, to be honest, but other than that, I’ve gotten used to the food here. Even though I got sick of seeing potatoes, rice, bread, and juice at first, I’ve learned to become content. I’ve even learned to enjoy bread. And another thing I’ve discovered is that living on bread alone does not make me gain weight. I’ve lived on this diet for a month, and I’m not any different than I was before. What made me gain weight when I was younger was variety. The variety of healthy and unhealthy foods I had in excess caused me to gain weight. I always thought that the reason that I lost weight was because of a variety of foods without lots of fat and sugar. But I now see that the real reason that I lost weight was because of a lack of variety, by living on a strict diet of vegetables, fruit, lean meat, water, tea, and coffee.

Variety is wonderful. Variety expresses the creativity of God. Variety is only bad in excess, when you have so much of it that you forget what is important. This is not all to point fingers at you. I’m pointing just as much at myself, if not more so. We have all lied to ourselves, saying that we are fine with God as a side dish, or one day a week. What I am saying is to enjoy variety for what it is. But don’t let variety make you forget the essentials. Don’t let variety make you forget what matters for day-to-day living. Don’t let variety make you forget the simple life. For food and God are about continuing life. It was never about the variety or the religion. Both were always about a means directing us towards what we need to live, and not the end. But I think I’ve said enough about this. It’s probably about time for us to eat. Who’s ready for some bread?

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John is from Gunter, Texas. A sophomore at Taylor University, he is studying the field of Psychology in hopes of one day becoming a counselor. Other than Jesus, he lives for conversation, Jazz music, and the occasional plate of sushi. Above all, he is a flawed human being learning to embrace the bumpy journey that the Christian life is.