Finest Bread I Will Provide
honoring humanitarians... and following their lead
Hello Blue Roomies,
I had a different post all ready for this week, but it was OBE. (Overtaken By Events, as the gummint types say here in DC.) So I’ll save it for another week.
This is me with some fellow Presbyterians in the Washington National Cathedral, where we attended yesterday’s Celebration of Life Honoring the Seven World Central Kitchen Humanitarians, killed by the IDF in Gaza a few weeks ago. I was honored to be part of a multifaith clergy delegation there, along with hundreds of others, to bear witness to their remarkable lives. (Thanks to Jo for thinking of me!)
Many of the cathedral staff thanked us for attending, but truly the gratitude was all mine. At their best, memorial services are occasions for bittersweet hope, inviting us to recommit to living more compassionate and purposeful lives, and this one was no exception. You can watch the whole service here. (Memo to my readers: can anyone identify the piece played by Yo-Yo Ma? It had a Middle Eastern flavor, so fitting to the occasion.)
Y’all know WCK is close to my heart, and Trinity members and friends may recall that I closed my sermon a few weeks ago with some comments about the WCK Seven. It was the first week of a worship series called “Love in Deed”:
Damian Soból is a person in whose life we see “love in deed.” Two years ago, a woman named Kim went to volunteer in Poland where people were fleeing en masse from Ukraine. That’s where she met Damian:
And Damian was the guy doing all the behind-the-scenes stuff at these outposts. Logistics, supplies, volunteers. The stuff that either feels like invisible magic when done right or like noise pollution when not.
He’s the guy to look for when you arrive, I was told. He shakes my hand. Looks me in the eye. Smiles. How am I doing, he asks. He thanks me for showing up. And then he’s off on an errand, back later. I’m in good hands, he lets me know; these volunteers will show you everything. He was right, of course.
I see him the next day. He asks me how it went last night, thanks me again. Let me know if you need anything.
Off he goes onto another task. A beam of light. (Source)
Damian worked for World Central Kitchen.
So you know the rest of the story, don’t you? That “beam of light” was extinguished this week when the Israeli Defense Force bombed their convoy with a drone strike while they were traveling in a deconflicted zone. As horrifying as this situation is, it should be said that some 200 aid workers have died in this war. Love in deed sometimes means doing simple things in risky places.
World Central Kitchen is helmed by Jose Andrés, a chef known and beloved in this region because he’s fed many of us at his restaurants. In an op-ed this week, he said about the seven fallen World Central Kitchen workers, “they were the best of humanity.” I’m always struck by that line, “they were the best of humanity.” Sometimes the people being described are Christian, sometimes they’re Muslim, Jewish, Hindu, other, none of the above; sometimes they’re white, black, or brown; straight, gay, trans; autistic, artistic, plain-spoken, wildly imaginative; native, immigrant.
“The best of humanity.”
Whatever their religion or philosophy, I’ve noticed, when we call people that, they’re almost always doing the same things Jesus did.
Remarks at yesterday’s service were offered by José Andrés. It was quite something to see this ebullient Spaniard, normally so full of life, in a more somber state, his big heart broken wide open as he memorialized the fallen and vowed to continue the work for which they gave their lives.
He talked a bit about the difficult discernment that goes into WCK’s decisions of where to serve and how to enter places of potential danger. Ultimately, he sees their work as a show of respect, not charity, toward the communities they serve:
When I would tell Ukrainians that they were cooking too close to the front lines, they said they would be there anyway, with or without World Central Kitchen. There were children and elderly to feed. These were their communities after all…
Early in the war in Ukraine, I traveled with my daughter Inés to Poland, and was going to cross the border to Lviv. I told her I didn’t want her to come because of the risks. Her reply cut right to my heart. She said, “How do you think young people will change the world if we aren’t willing to take risks?”
Four members of the WCK team, the very world-changers Inés was talking about, shared a poem from Maya Angelou called When Great Trees Fall. Here’s a portion:
When great trees fall,
rocks on distant hills shudder,
lions hunker down
in tall grasses,
and even elephants
lumber after safety.
When great trees fall
in forests,
small things recoil into silence,
their senses
eroded beyond fear.
…And when great souls die,
after a period peace blooms,
slowly and always
irregularly. Spaces fill
with a kind of
soothing electric vibration.
Our senses, restored, never
to be the same, whisper to us.
They existed. They existed.
We can be. Be and be
better. For they existed.
The service closed with a singing of the hymn “Here I Am, Lord.” It’s a mainstay of ordination services, such that I sometimes wilt when I see it on the program. I’ve sung it a lot. But I will never hear verse 3 the same way again:
I, the Lord of wind and flame
I will tend the poor and lame
I will set a feast for them
My hand will save
Finest bread I will provide
'Til their hearts be satisfied
I will give my life to them
Whom shall I send?
Rest in power, Saifeddin Issam Ayad Abutaha, John Chapman, Jacob Flickinger, Lalzawmi (Zomi) Frankcom, Jim Henderson, James Kirby, and Damian Soból.
Thank you for setting the feast.
O, thank you for this essay. Such power in that service amid risk. A love in deed that keeps calling to us. Thanks. This touched my heart with words I needed today:
Our senses, restored, never
to be the same, whisper to us.
They existed. They existed.
We can be. Be and be
better. For they existed.
We were incredibly moved by this service and watched it with Tracy and Martin. The message, the music, the call to action - we are so proud of Ross singing there. You must meet him. WCK is so important to us.