Sharing Our Monkey Bread

We’ve been using Elizabeth’s book Teach Us to Pray for our family devotions after some of our meals. If you’ve used the book at all, you know that part of the process is using some sort of practice or activity at the beginning of the devotions as a way of engaging the whole body and creating a sense of ritual. Ordinary time included such activities as bringing in something from nature as a reminder of God’s good creation, starting the prayers on your knees if you were able, or tasting just a touch of honey as a reminder that the laws of God are sweet for our souls.

The opening activity for Advent is setting an extra place at the table during meals as an expression of our desire for Jesus to come join us. This is rooted in the Jewish Passover tradition of setting an extra place at the table for Elijah in anticipation of Elijah one day coming to prepare the way for the Messiah. 

This has led to some interesting conversation in our house. The question “Do we have to make room for Jesus?” has been heard a surprisingly high number of times. “Does Jesus need silverware?” is also a favorite. And when I sat down at the table and there wasn’t a glass of water at my place, but there was at Jesus’, I reached over and took Jesus’ water. My children caught me: “Did you just take Jesus’ water?” they asked, and I sheepishly put it back and got up to get my own glass of water. And I have to admit—Jesus’ spot at the table ends up being next to mine, and with my long arms and long legs, I don’t particularly enjoy having an extra spot next me. This has led me to reflect on whether I’m really trying to make room for Jesus in my life or not.

One of the classic moments, however, that will go down in Blankespoor-Vander Haagen family lore, came last week when we were enjoying some delicious split pea soup. Now, when I was growing up, split pea soup was not high on my siblings’ list of favorite meals, so my mom would make monkey bread to go along with it to bribe us kids to eat the split pea soup without complaining. We didn’t get monkey bread until after our soup was eaten.

For the uninitiated, monkey bread is made by taking biscuit rolls that come in tube, cutting them into pieces, placing them in a bundt pan and then drowning them in butter, brown sugar and cinnamon before baking. Delicious—if not exactly healthy for you. But anyway, as a nod to family tradition, we made monkey bread to go along with the pea soup.

When it came time to divvy up the monkey bread (after all the soup had been eaten, of course), we made sure to distribute even amounts so there was no complaining. The conversation then went something like this: “Don’t forget to save some for Jesus,” pointed out one of the kind-hearted from our midst. “Jesus doesn’t need monkey bread,” was the quick response.

I decided to seize the moment and make it into a lesson on faith. “Wait a minute—you’re telling me that if the Savior of the World showed up—if the one who set aside being God and came to earth to be born as a little tiny baby and suffered on the cross and died for your sins showed up, you wouldn’t give him your monkey bread?” Perhaps I went a little over the top. “Would you give him your monkey bread?” came the penetrating reply. I was feeling particularly pious at the moment, so I quickly stated, “Yes. Yes, I would. Jesus could have my monkey bread.” But even as I said it, I realized that I wasn’t entirely sure it was true. I really like monkey bread. Maybe Jesus and I could split it…

And in that moment, I realized two things. First—how little I really expect Jesus to show up at any given moment. I don’t really need to worry about Jesus eating my monkey bread, I thought to myself. He’s not really going to show up while we’re eating monkey bread… And second—how little gratitude I truly have toward Jesus. I like Jesus. I’m grateful for all Jesus has done for me. But can Jesus have my monkey bread? I’m not so sure… It’d be really hard to sit there with no monkey bread while Jesus ate my share. And that was startling to me—I have to second guess whether Jesus would get my monkey bread?!?

This has made me reconsider how I approach a lot of life. Jesus tells us in the parable of the sheep and the goats in Matthew 25:31-46 that whatever we have done for the least of these brothers and sisters of his, we have done for him. And whatever we have not done for one of the least of these, we have not done for him. The truth is, we encounter Jesus everyday of our lives in the people all around us. Are we truly grateful for what Jesus has done for us? If we are—well, then we should probably share our monkey bread. We shouldn’t just give out of our excess, what doesn’t really cost us anything—we should share the things we treasure as well.

After my attempt at being pious with my family, stating that I would give Jesus my monkey bread, I turned to my children and asked them, “Well, what about you? Would you give the one who died for you monkey bread?” The answer came back unanimous. “Yes. We would give Jesus your monkey bread too.”