Bread. Light. Life. – A ceremony of connection
- mai haikal
- Jul 22
- 3 min read
I was invited by my friend Marwan , with whom I share a long journey—linguistically, intellectually, and personally. Anyone who knows him knows that he is a scholar, a genius for communication. He speaks languages the way other people play instruments—a world changer with deep knowledge and sensitivity, a visionary. He also plays instruments and sings. One of those people who can build bridges between times and traditions, between faiths and hearts—connecting religions, cultures, and perspectives into a common sound. And on that day, this sound was to find expression through bread, salt, and oil.
It was the city association's second brunch in the heart of Eberswalde, and Marwan was asked to give an opening speech. This morning, the time had come. I sat under the trees among friends, neighbors, and guests from the green city.
Bread, salt, and oil were waiting on every table. Still untouched. There was something solemn in the air, a dignified silence through which Marwan's words threaded like a golden thread. When Marwan speaks, you don't just listen to the words—you hear how he breathes history into the rooms, how everyday life takes on meaning.
He began, calmly, with a smile—and I listened.
“Dear Eberswalde residents and visitors to our green city, today we are celebrating the second brunch of the city association in E – and I am pleased to be able to say a few introductory words.
Bread, salt, and oil lie on your tables—but I ask you not to help yourself yet. Let us share this moment consciously and together. Because breaking bread, sprinkling salt, and dipping in oil are more than just a gesture—they are remembrance, ritual, and connection.
This practice is ancient. It dates back to a time when people didn't yet separate themselves into nations, alliances, ideologies, or religions. They lived together, not side by side. And so today we want to eat together.
Bread has been a staple of our diet ever since we settled down. There is no place in the world without a bread tradition. Here in Eberswalde, too, bread is deeply rooted—and I sincerely thank my friend Björn and his team for lovingly preserving this culture.
In Egypt, bread was called “Chet n Ankh" – a piece of life. And the Arabic word “Eish” means “life.”
In Judaism, Shabbat begins with the breaking of bread and the sprinkling of salt, accompanied by a blessing: “Blessed are you, O Lord, who brought forth bread for us from the earth.”
In Egypt, too, people say, “Let us eat bread and salt”—an expression of closeness.
Jesus broke bread with his disciples at the Last Supper, and the Lord’s Prayer says,
“Give us this day our daily bread.”
The Prophet of Islam, Mohammad, said that bread must be treated with dignity, not carelessly, and never thrown away.
Salt? It's essential to life. People have fought wars over salt.
And the oil? It was the light in the Jerusalem Temple; it anointed kings and prophets. Even Jesus was anointed—Meschiach. The early caliphs dipped bread in oil to practice humility.
I suggest that at each table, someone break the bread and distribute it. Sprinkle salt on it. And if you like, dip it in oil—or leave it plain.
But before we eat, I ask you for a moment of silence. Bread isn't available everywhere in the world. And when we share today, let's also share with gratitude. Not with deprivation, but with mindfulness.
Allow me to recite the blessing aloud: “ Blessed are you, Lord, who brought forth bread for us from the earth.”
“Let's eat. Enjoy your meal. May every bite be a memory and a reunion.”
And we ate. Slowly. Gratefully. Connected.
I'm glad I was able to be there. Because this moment showed me: bread doesn't divide—it unites. And when Marwan speaks, everyday life becomes a ceremony. Brunch becomes an encounter. Crumbs become stories, and bridges are built with them.
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