Our Daily Bread

“Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.” (Jesus in Matthew 6 and Luke 11).

When I was young, I thought it odd that Jesus would lump something as tangible and, for me, easily accessible as food with something as abstract and difficult as forgiveness. This literal interpretation of bread made me aware of how lucky I was to have snacks in our cabinets and dinner on the table each night. I never worried about food because my mom went to the grocery store every Thursday, and she sent me or one of my siblings to the National at 114th and Western for the oddball items she forgot. My mom made a huge nightly meal for twelve of us every night, except for the rare Sunday night delights of stacks of White Castles. That may have been payback to my dad for playing golf. I loved those mushy gems.

“Give us this day our daily bread.” I’d pray that people less fortunate that I would get food, people in the National Geographic Magazine my mom got delivered along with Time, Newsweek, and Sports Illustrated. Along with food, we never lacked reading material at our house.

In John’s Gospel, Jesus says, “I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me will never hunger, and whoever believes in me will never thirst.”

“Give us this day our daily bread.” Now I get it. Give us this day our daily dose of Jesus. I feel this presence all the time - in greetings from Ray at Old St. Pat’s, from Bow at the Thai restaurant I frequent, from the man at the desk at physical therapy, from my husband when he walks in the door, from my kids when they call, from the friends who check in on my sore rear end, from the groovy guy at Trader Joe’s who rings up items, from the Reframers in every Zoom meeting, from drivers who smile and wave to communicate, “Go ahead; I can wait as you cross.”

Give us this day our daily dose of goodness and Grace, and give us this day our daily reminder of You in the needy on the street corner. You, Lord, are everywhere.

Give us this day our daily bread of inspiration, of the Holy Spirit dwelling in a moment of clarity, understanding, compassion, and in the words of courageous writers who speak their truths.

Give us this day our daily dose of connection in the human condition.

Give us this day our daily bread of awareness that we are never, ever alone.

I believe I’m called to return this daily bread into the world through the radiance within me. It sounds braggy for me to claim that such beauty dwells inside me, but it’s the truth. That holiness resides in all of us. I wonder why we don’t talk about something so amazing more. For me, sometimes that Light is elusive as if it is indeed buried under a bushel. Then somehow from somewhere, I am gifted my daily bread, and I am inspired. I feel a sense of the divine in ways that Carl Jung would attribute to his Theory of Synchronicity.

It takes courage for me to share my way of seeing because it forces me to overcome worrying about what people will think or say. I ask myself, “If not now, when?” Why refrain from sharing joy?

My friend Laura shared the April 13, 2026, Albert Brooks’ “How America Recovers: A Hopeful Vision for a Common Future” talk at Yale:

In twenty minutes, Brooks gives a run-down of global cultural differences and shifts in the United States over the last seventy years. After landing in the bleakness of 2026, he provides hope. He believes we are on the cusp of a major cultural pivot toward humanism, and it’s going to take each one of us to make that happen. Each one of us has the capacity for slight changes, and he has faith in Americans to transform the current culture of resentment into one of goodness.

Brooks believes in writers, artists, workers, everyday people to foster the momentum toward positive change. I do, too.

You don’t have to be Plato, Aristotle, Marcus Arelius, Viktr Frankl, Confucius, Gandhi, Dorothy Day, Martin Luther King, Jr, Nelson Mandela, Socrates, Saint Paul, Pope Francis or Leo, the Dalai Lama, Desmond Tutu or Mary Oliver to be credible, insightful and influential.

You don’t have to be Christian or faith-filled.

You just have to be human. You just have to know what it feels like to be loved and to love.

At Old St. Patrick’s Church, Father Pat McGrath spoke about how we have to change the conversation. We have to change the way we’re talking about the world. Pope Leo reminds us that “blessed are the peacemakers.” We get to be those kind of people. We influence the world by the way we show up. We get to show up as daily bread.

Give us this day our daily dose of peace, so we may share it with others.

Give us this day our daily glimpse of You, God, that we may be inspired to carry on.

Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses, because we screw up big time. Give us this day the opportunity to forgive because that’s key to carrying the Light.

In our home when the kids were little, I had a sign in the bathroom that said, “Forgive like you want to be forgiven.”

Many of us know great remorse, that terrible feeling of wishing things had gone differently. The “Our Father” gives me the opportunity to step into forgiveness of myself and of others.

When I was a child, I thought like a child (Corinthians). I thought bread meant white, wheat, Italian or Butternut. I had no idea of the actual wonder of it all. As an adult, I do now. And I’m in awe.