It's Not About Bread

Matthew 16:1-12

^11 “How can you possibly think I was talking to you about bread?”

Well today is a bit of ‘flapping wildly sideways.’ I started off by imagining being there and having Jesus ask me, “How can you possibly think I was talking to you about bread?” I would have been embarrassed for sure, and probably answered him the same way I would answer my Karate sensei—”Uh, because I wasn’t paying close enough attention, sir.” Perhaps followed by, “My bad.”

I did do some research on the word Jesus uses, “hametz,” which in the NRSV is translated “yeast,” but literally means “leavened bread.” Leavened bread was not allowed in the mishkan, the tabernacle that preceded the temple, but only unleavened bread. So, the implication was that leavened bread was not allowed in God’s presence. Even today, hametz is prohibited during Passover.

I don’t think that there was meant to be any deep symbolism though. I just deleted over half of what I had written because I was getting way down in the weeds.

I went back to where I started, and paid attention to what Jesus actually said.

Then it became clear that the disciples’ reaction was entirely due to the fact that they weren’t listening. Jesus gave them a dope-slap because they only heard part of what he said, and instead of saying, “Excuse me master, could you repeat that please?” they started nattering on: “Bread, what bread? Do we need bread? Well, we don’t have any bread! Do we need to buy some bread? Wait a minute, should we go back to that other village and get some bread? Weren’t you supposed to be the one to buy the bread? Why didn’t you buy the bread? What are we going to do now? Master wants bread! Who’s going to tell him we don’t have any?”

I can just see Jesus slowing down, lagging behind a little bit, with an incredulous look on his face. I can imagine him letting the disciples get more and more worked up while he falls further and further behind, until finally they look around for him and realize that he’s stopped dead in the road with his hands on his hips, just glaring at them. I can hear them stuttering down to silence, and somebody whispering, “What’s he mad about?”

It’s not about bread.

It was never about bread.

How could anyone possibly think it was about bread?