In the not-so-distant past, air conditioning was not the norm. Most cities had big parks full of ponds and trees where families would go on the weekend to escape the heat. When I visited my grandparents in St. Joe, Missouri, Krug Park was the weekend getaway for family picnics and shady breezes. Our highlight as kids was feeding pieces of bread to the swarms of goldfish in the pond. I imagine that is where my practice of saving stale bread to feed to our birds got its beginnings, as I continue to “cast my bread upon the waters.”
For a couple years, we fed bread to our resident crows. For some reason they have moved on to another part of the neighborhood and squirrels now seem to enjoy bread as much as the birds. Yesterday, however I saw something new. One squirrel scampered back and forth looking for bread and found a big piece. He looked around to make sure he was alone, ran to the other side of the yard, and started digging a hole. This was a first as I watched him bury a chunk of bread into the earth. He ran away, likely proud of his accomplishment but is in for a big surprise. That bread will not be there should he return, and unlike an acorn will not produce a bread tree. A futile effort and waste of stale bread!
Having watched something new I considered how we often do the same thing as we encounter something new, unexpected, desirable and respond as we are conditioned to do. We often see our surprises as blessings we deserve and hide them for a rainy day (or to keep others from enjoying we would rather not share.) Too easily we hide what we don’t know how to handle, but our first inclination is typically not to embrace what comes as a surprise. We are like packrats with so much hidden away for a rainy day, or safely locked up so no one else can take what is ours. One of the first words of all children, after learning to say dad or mom is the word “mine!” When Jesus taught us to pray “give us our daily bread,” the point was to remember all we have is a gift from God, rather than understand he was teaching God who is the giver of all good gifts. To say “thank you” rather than “mine.”
Obviously, squirrels don’t understand such notions and simply do what they are conditioned to do. But as Jesus taught so often, sharing and surrendering to others allows blessings to become gifts that change us. That can never happen when our chunks of bread are buried or hidden away. God gave us sun and moon, water and trees, birds and puppy dogs not as special gifts just for me but to reveal the greatness of his love for all. The story of Adam and Eve is a reminder there is a stale breath that encourages us to selfishly assume we deserve more and we are easily conditioned to grab as much as we can and bury what we don’t want to ever have shared. Jesus’ example of washing feet and inviting the unloved to family meals was a better example for us than a squirrel hiding bread in a hole in the ground. Selfishness is often our first response as we scurry to gather and hoard before anyone else can take what is rightfully mine. How much better it is to remember blessings are multiplied as they are shared and what we bury in the ground simply decays and is lost from its potential intent. The squirrel never heard the words about not hiding our light under a basket. But we have, and that changes what we do with the bread that is cast upon our waters.