I served at the parish from Visuia. I have always felt God more present in the rural parishes than in the urban ones; maybe because He is more present in the toil from the work in the field than in an urban job.
When it came the moment before the Holy Liturgy when we recall the living and the reposed on their names so that everyone of them will have a breadcrumb near Christ I saw a piece of antidoron made with tired hands which waited to be broken and turned into wishes, love and longing somehow according to everyone`s need and household.
A heavy and good bread as it has to be able to contain all those who are to be recalled.
Do you know when the Holy Liturgy starts? When the women tired from the toil and heat of the day take a measure of flour and make from it a bed for the yeast which will leaven all the dough. From that moment on everything turns into holy service.
The brick oven knowing this behaves with the dough as if `the little one, swaddled in cotton diapers` were there. I think that David the psalmist before saying `taste and see how good is the Lord` had just eaten the Shewbread.
Today I understood much better why God chose to dwell within the bread…
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