Just a grain of wheat
I am just a grain of wheat, what can I do on my own? I can only worry if the bread that we are called to give to humanity will satisfy their hunger, after all I am only one grain. Yet together we form many grains that can nourish because we are willing to die, to lose the husk of pride, of envy, of egocentric living. ‘If the grain of wheat does not fall into the ground and die, it cannot produce fruit’ This is a real Eucharistic life, to become broken for others, it is a paradox, in our brokenness we generate life. During this week I thought often of the disciples as they travelled on their way to Emmaus, searching for the Risen Lord, wanting to hear that voice that allowed Mary to cry out with joy ‘Master’ on that first Easter morning. Searching, searching on a road that leads anywhere once it leads away from Jerusalem, the horrible reminder of the scene of despair. The Stranger meets them on the road and walks with them. He is their Eucharist, helping to remembe...