Bread for Bones
Resurrection is not theory. It’s food.
It’s manna falling in a desert where people are dying of thirst.
It’s universal basic income when Mammon hoards the vaults.
It’s bread that breaks Mammon’s teeth.
Bones That Remember Hunger
I know what it’s like to stagger hungry — for food, for meaning, for relief.
Bones remember hunger. Bodies remember famine.
And God answers not with ideas but with bread.
Always bread.
Pharisees and the Platonic Trap
Jesus’ harshest words weren’t for drunks or prostitutes. They were for the religious elite who spiritualized hunger.
James says it plainly: If one of you says to the poor man, “Go in peace, be warmed and filled,” without giving him the things needed for the body, what good is that?
That’s Pharisaic religion. Blessings instead of bread. Words instead of warmth. Platonic ideals instead of sandals on feet and food on tables.
The gospel is not disembodied philosophy. It is grain ground into flour, fire turned into loaves, fish roasted on a shore by a resurrected man who still bore scars in his hands.
The Ethics of Land and Leftovers
Long before Christ, Torah set the table: When you reap the harvest of your land, do not reap to the very edges of your field or gather the gleanings of your harvest. Leave them for the poor and the foreigner. (Leviticus 23:22)
God’s economy baked justice into the soil itself.
The corners of every field belonged to the poor.
The gleanings were their inheritance.
The law of Yahweh made sure nobody starved while barns overflowed.
Christopher J.H. Wright puts it well in Old Testament Ethics for the People of God: economic justice in Israel wasn’t charity — it was covenant. The land was the Lord’s, and its abundance was meant for all.
Manna as UBI
The Exodus story isn’t just about escaping Egypt — it’s about learning how to live free. Every morning, manna fell. Enough for all. None left over. No hoarding, no hedge funds. Just provision, daily.
Manna was universal basic income, baked into creation by the God who still whispers: Give us this day our daily bread.
Bread That Breaks Mammon’s Teeth
Mammon grinds bones for profit.
Mammon hoards bread until it grows mold.
Mammon whispers that scarcity is holy and abundance is sinful.
But the gospel bites back.
Bread becomes body. Wine becomes blood.
The Eucharist is God’s middle finger to Mammon: Take, eat, all of you.
This bread does not hoard.
This bread breaks Mammon’s teeth.
Bread for Bones
I’m not talking about theories of justice.
I’m talking about real bread on real tables.
When you support this work, it is bread in my kids’ mouths, breath in my lungs, and laughter in our house. It’s resurrection as grocery money, hope as heating bills paid, love as UBI powered by mercy.
How to Keep This Bread Moving
☕ Buy me a coffee on Ko-fi — every $5 is bread for bones
⚡ Send direct via Strike — lightning-fast manna
📝 Order a custom poem — resurrection in your name
🔥 Order a custom roast — holy fire that leaves Mammon smoking
⚡ Strike the Rock
When Moses struck the rock in the wilderness, water gushed out and the thirsty lived.
That’s what Strike is for me — a way for living waters to flow in the desert of Mammon. Bitcoin as bread, lightning as manna, resurrection in digital form.
Send direct via Strike: strike.me/tmauss
Every strike is living water. Every drop keeps this resurrection alive.
Grief is smoke.
Joy is stone.
And stone-rolled resurrection always tastes like bread.
For Further Reading
📖 Christopher J.H. Wright, Old Testament Ethics for the People of God
