| A beggar came and sat before
me. "I want bread," he said.
"How wise you are," I assured him. "Bread is what
you need. And you have come to the right bakery." So I pulled my cookbook
down from my shelf and began to tell him all I knew about the bread. I
spoke of flour and wheat, of grain and barley. My knowledge impressed even
me as I cited the measurements and recipe. When I looked up, I was surprised
to see he wasn't smiling. "I just want bread," he said.
"How wise you are." I applauded his choice. "Follow
me, and I'll show you our bakery." Down the hallow halls I guided him,
pausing to point out the rooms where the dough is prepared and the ovens
where the bread is baked. "No one has such facilities. We have bread for
every need. But here is the best part," I proclaimed as I pushed open two
swinging doors. "This is our room of inspiration." I knew he moved as we
stepped into the auditorium full of stained-glass windows.
The beggar didn't speak. I understood his silence.
With my arm around his shoulder, I whispered, "It overwhelms me as well."
I then leaped to the podium and struck my favorite pose behind the lectern.
"People come from miles to hear me speak. Once a week my workers gather,
and I read to them the recipe from the cookbook of life."
By now the beggar had taken a seat on the front
row. I knew what he wanted. "Would you like to hear me?" "No," he said,
"but I would like some bread."
"How wise you are," I replied. And I led him to
the front door of the bakery. "What I have to say next is very important,"
I told him as we stood outside, "Up and down this street you will find
many bakeries. "But take heed; they don't serve the true bread. I know
of one who adds two spoons of salt rather than one. I know of another whose
oven is three degrees too hot. They may call it bread," I warned, "but
it's not according to the book."
The beggar turned and began walking away. "Don't
you want bread?" I asked him. He stopped, looked back at me, and shrugged,
"I guess I lost my appetite." I shook my head and returned to my office.
"What a shame," I said to myself. "The world just isn't hungry for true
bread anymore."
Christ (the bread of life) leaves us to distribute
the bread. We can't force people to eat the bread, but we can make sure
they have it. Yet, for some reason we are [sometimes] reluctant to do so.
- Max Lucado
"Let us learn how to give people Christ
and not make them turned off by all the objects that represent Him" - Act
1:8 |
