Sunday 24 August 2014

Sabbatical Blog 10: Le Pain

Ray Anglesea shares the next installment of his sabbatical experiences

One of the joys of holidaying in France is the early morning walk, to the boulangierie, the bread shop to collect baguettes - a wand or baton of long crusty bread, made from wheat flour, water, yeast, and common salt.  As part of the traditional continental breakfast in France, slices of baguette are spread with butter and jam and dunked in bowls of coffee or hot chocolate. Delicious!

Although baguettes are closely connected to France they are today made around the world. In France, not all long loaves are baguettes; for example, a short, almost rugby ball shaped loaf is a batard (literally, bastard), or a "torpedo loaf" in English.  Another tubular shaped loaf is known as a flute. FlĂ»tes closely resemble baguettes and weigh more or less than these, depending on the region. A thinner loaf is called a ficelle (string). A short baguette is sometimes known as a baton (stick), or even referred to using the English translation French stick.  

                       
At the boulangerie I also buy croissants; buttery flaky viennoiserie pastry named for its well-known crescent  shape. Croissants and other viennoiserie are made of a layered yeast yeast-leavened dough. The dough is layered with butter, rolled and folded several times in succession, then rolled into a sheet, in a technique called laminating. The process results in a layered, flaky texture, similar to a puff pastry. Crescent-shaped food breads have been made since the Middle Ages, and crescent-shaped cakes possibly since antiquity.

The morning lectionary readings around the pool on Sunday 27 July (7th Sunday after Pentecost) were the many kingdom parables found in the gospel of Matthew, chapter 13:31-33, 44-52 - yeast being one of them. Jesus suggests that the Kingdom of Heaven is like yeast that is mixed in with bread. It is what makes the wine and beer, it makes the dough to rise to make the bread. It is the tiny insignificant catalyst for our basic commodities and the formation of our communities; it is the leaven in the lump; the difference between bread and dough; juice and wine, refreshment and celebration. Yeast is the ingredient that turns the passive into active; the flat into flavoursome; the ordinary into the extraordinary.

When Jesus talks about the Kingdom of God as yeast – and our ministers too – he is not advocating the concentrate in a jar: yeast for the sake of yeast. No, in Jesus imagination, we are invited to get lost. To loose ourselves into something bigger. But not pointlessly. Rather, in “dying” to our context, we activate it. We become the catalyst that brings flavour, strength, depth, potency and growth. Without yeast, there is no loaf, just dough. Literally we die to ourselves for growth: we are what makes bread for the world.

John Paul Lederach, Professor of International Peace building at the University of Notre Dame, Indiana, offers a rich meditation on our calling to be yeast. Consider this. The most common ingredients for making bread are water, flour, salt, sugar and yeast. Of these, yeast is the smallest in quantity, but the only one that makes a substantial change to all the other ingredients. Lederach says you only need a few people to change a lot of things. Quality changes quantity. Size does not matter very much. It is quality that counts, not quantity. Small things then make a difference. Tiny spores of yeast change the mass. So yeast, to be useful needs to move from its incubation and be mixed into the process – out of the church buildings into ever day life.  Yeast reminds us that God can do some very promising things with the apparently negligible. This is where God sees potential and hope.

We can be the yeast that is kneaded in to make the bread, that we may all become one. But we must let God set the pace, the bread rises in time; the wine matures only when it is ready.

A few years ago I was privileged to visit Somewhere Else, the Liverpool Bread Church to meet the founder of the project, the Revd Dr Barbara Glasson, a Methodist minister. Somewhere Else in Liverpool's City Centre is a response to the belief that there is a life-giving message in this gospel story. The “church” gathers as a faith community around the making and sharing of bread. While the bread was rising, the conversation would turn to the important issues of life, shared in the warm kitchen. People would read from the Bible, pray for one another. They became companions (= cum panis, with bread). Bread reaches across cultural and social divides enabling those who knead and shape it to explore their experience. A constant flow of visitors to this community has ensured that ripples from the 'bread church" are reaching ever further and wider, locally, nationally and internationally. All are encouraged to bake two loaves: one for themselves and one to share as they feel led. Dr Gleeson stated:
“Making bread has taught us so much – the process of baking mirrors so much in life: the pummelling and proving is about how we engage with one another, the waiting for the dough to rise is about how we give each other time. Churches generally are a bit obsessed with numbers and outcomes. But the bread makes us wait … it needs to rest, to rise. In the waiting time the smell of the bread triggers memories and facilitates story so that people quite naturally talk to each other. And every loaf we make is different. Bread is a sign to the world.
Ray Anglesea
Sabbatical Blog 10: Le Pain, France 
August 2014



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