“Breaking Bread: Songs of Reconciliation” Act 3: Are You Going To Do Anything Or Just Sit There?

The summer of 2020 was quite the season. It was a time of fear, panic, terror, and change. It was a time when the past could not be the present and things were moving in the direction of rising up and being heard. I watched a lot of summer 2020 unfold from my balcony in downtown Nashville. It was a moment for me to sit and reflect on all that was going on in the world at that time and how we got to this point. And how we could also make peace with it. 

It pained me to see my Nashville community tearing each other apart over political views when they had just joined hand-in-hand during one of the worst tornadoes the area had ever experienced. How could we go from raising money for disaster relief for the hardest-hit neighborhoods facing some of the lowest socioeconomic conditions, to raising walls because we couldn’t have a peaceful discourse around mask mandates and equity? When I peeled back the onion of society, the overwhelming core is the pull for power, and just like an onion, it stinks. When you see how merciless people are when they think their power is going to be eroded, it breaks your heart; it broke mine. When you see how illogical people act when they feel threatened, you wonder how sanity will be restored. I was befuddled, even though in my heart I knew that many of these things had been brewing underneath the surface for a lifetime, for many lifetimes. There was too much tension on too many issues to not culminate in the intensity that we witnessed during that summer. 

So how do we make it back to the center? How do we learn to love our neighbor again even if our neighbor has different ideologies than we do? How do we stop being so polarized and actually listen to differing opinions with an open heart versus a rush to judgment?  

I wish I had all of the answers but I don’t. However, the conclusion that I kept coming to is that by loving ourselves and healing that brokenness within us, we can then extend that love to that small circle around us (e.g. our friends and family), and then we can make that circle a bit wider and extend that love and peace to the broader society. Really, in its essence, this is an empathy-building exercise. Can I find it in my heart to find grace for myself and for others? Can I not judge myself and then extend that inclusivity to my neighbor? Can I build a bridge in my heart to the person next door? 

This is what inspired Act 3 of my album, “Breaking Bread: Songs of Reconciliation.” While writing these songs, I felt like I broke bread with all of Nashville.

This act centers around the idea that once you make peace with yourself and your close relationships, you can make peace with broader society and the world. The songs in this act—“Border Wall” and “Eyes and Ears” speak to connection, community, and change.

“Border Wall,” speaks to that power dynamic and struggle that we so often see played out in all facets of society, with our political leaders at all levels, business leaders, faith leaders, and each other. We so often feel threatened and afraid when folks around us want equity because we think we’ll lose our piece of the pie—if you have more, that must mean that I’m losing some of mine. It’s a myopic and flawed point of view because it neglects the notion that by having more hands on deck, we can actually build a bigger pie and there will be enough slices to go around for everyone. We need to put down this need for power and instead, extend the loaf of bread to another to nourish their soul. 

This segues into “Eyes and Ears.” The idea for this song came while I was doing disaster relief work after the March 2020 tornado. One of the folks on my crew said point-blank, “I wish that people would stop saying that they will pray for you on social media. Are you actually going to do something?” And he had a valid point. When people are in need of help, we will often respond with, “I’m praying for you,” or, “I’m sending you good vibes/thoughts.” What about actually texting the person and saying, “It looks like you might need help right now, what is the best way that I can support you?” That approach is rarely taken because it actually takes some effort and work. As they say, “faith without works is dead.” As a Christian, his words stung bad but made me take a quick look in the mirror as to how many times I’ve written to someone that I’ll be praying for them because I knew it was the easy way out. The harder way would actually be to extend the loaf of bread to them because it meant giving up my time, energy, effort, and resources, to help and better their position. However, by partaking in that sacrificial act, I would also be nourishing my own soul.   

A few blog posts ago when describing Act 1 of the album, I noted that having a meal by and with yourself can be one of the most terrifying but also one of the most liberating acts. Having a meal with others and experiencing life together is why we are on Earth. We are social creatures meant to be in community with one another. I pray that these two songs can serve as a reminder of how to best serve one another—by taking down the walls that we’ve built to keep others out because we were fearful of what we might lose if we do not. Once those walls are taken down, only then can we move to the act of reaching out and extending a hand so that we can all live in harmony. 

I hope you will see that the act of breaking bread is so much more than just snapping off a bit of crust to share with someone; it is a meal that can sustain our society and nourish its soul. 

My album, “Breaking Bread: Songs of Reconciliation” drops July 15. Pre-save it on Spotify and pre-add it now on Apple Music.