A Loaf for Me, and a Loaf for Thee

For almost the past decade, I have traveled on the first Sunday of every month to our extended family dinner. Aunts, uncles, and cousins gathered to my grandparent’s house 20 minutes outside of Salt Lake City, Utah to enjoy a delicious meal prepared by my grandparents. My grandpa was a butcher as a younger man, and he knows everything there is to know about preparing beef, pork, ham, and chicken.

As the years have gone on, different families have prepared specialties to bring to the dinners. My aunts will always prepare a salad or vegetables, if they don’t go all out and prepare dessert as well, and my uncles have learned from the best when they occasionally bring over roasts of their own. As for a poor college student such as myself, often I would simply bring my charming personality and a raging appetite.

However, over the last several years, I have found my own niche in the Wirthlin family dinner: baked goods. I have brought over cookies, brownies, rolls, and homemade bread almost every month, to the mass approval of the hungry masses.

“We’ve got all the fixens!” my grandpa said at our last dinner. “And Joe’s bread! Can’t be a Sunday dinner without Joe’s bread!” My parents happened to be in town that night, adding an extra layer of pride at his words.

However, what they don’t know is that the loaf (or loaves) I bring aren’t my best work. Sure, they all came from the same batch, they all came from roughly the same pan size, but I have never brought my absolute best loaf. That loaf is special and set aside for something different.

Starting in late 2023, I began supplying my YSA ward with homemade bread. I would wake up early on Sunday morning and hurried downstairs to preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Then, I got out my mixing bowl and began making fresh homemade bread for the sacrament. The original recipe made four loaves of delicious bread, and for the longest time I would bring two of the four loaves slathered with honey butter to share with the rest of the ward after church. One would stay behind for my sandwiches, leaving a final loaf for the sacrament.

As I pulled the finished loaves out of the oven, I would examine each of them for a uniform golden-brown color. Many times, I would pop them back into the oven for a few minutes, rotated around to allow the brown to spread across the whole top and not just a single side. Then, once the bread had finished browning, I would pop them onto a cooling rack, letting the delicious aroma of freshly baked bread fill the house (and wake up a roommate or two).

Of the four loaves, there would always be one that stood out. The very best one, from the best of my four pans, would sit proudly among the rest, cooling in preparation for its responsibility. That loaf would be cut up in preparation to be used in the sacrament.

I hadn’t been asked to bring the sacrament bread. It was more something that came out of a talent that I loved. Making my own homemade bread was cheaper in the long run, and always tasted better than the store-bought stuff. I would have the leftover loaves set aside for the following week, but they became moldy without any preservatives in them.

When I first brought the bread, people began commenting on the unexpected flavor. Many people complimented me on the bread, and several mentioned that the texture and flavor allowed them to better appreciate the sacrament ordinance. Of course, that wasn’t why I did it.

In Matthew 25, the Savior gives the parable of the talents. A master distributed eight talents among his three servants before departing on business. Two of them took the talents they had received and doubled them, while the third hid the talent away. Upon the master’s return, those who had used their talents were blessed, while the one who had buried his talent lost that which was given him.

The talents in the story were of monetary value, but today’s modern definition of a talent also works in this story. One of my talents is baking, and for years I was using it largely to bless myself and my family. However, there are other ways for me to use that talent. I have used that talent to bless my ward with desserts, meals, and of course, the sacrament bread.

On the weeks when I am out of town, I prepare additional loaves and stick them in the freezer for my roommates to bring. Soon, I will move to a new apartment, taking my bread with me. However, the practice of making bread has become more than just a weekly tradition. It has become a responsibility, a sign of how I keep the Sabbath Day holy. I showcase my devotion to the Savior in a unique way, in creating “a loaf of bread for me, and the best loaf of bread for Thee.”