Date: July 09, 2018 07:04PM
One of early "um, what?" church moments came as a 16 year-old, and involving this revelation. The teacher (penishood office, not occupation) assigned to bring the Wonder (tm) bread for the Sunday ritual had forgotten his duty, leaving the assembled Poway II ward without bread to go with its water.
Reacting quickly, the bishop hands me a $5 bill, and tells me to run over to the local Safeway in Rancho Bernardo (about 3 miles away), and buy 2 loaves. 'Cause, you know, we couldn't buy just one and do a loaves & fishes miracle, since there was no fish.
So off I scoot, on an officially ordained holy mission to support the heathens working on the sabbath by buying their mushy wares instead of attending the beginning of Sacrament Meeting. I returned just in time to stride up to the holy table, a wrapped, white & delightsome loaf in each hand, and save the holy day -- giving myself and the other two priests something to tear up and say the magic words over.
The very next week, I had my bishop interview. When I mentioned to him that I had to work the occasional Sunday at Jack-in-the-Box to keep my job, he read me the riot act for doing unholy things on the Lord's holy sabbath. At which point, of course, I brought up the week before, where he'd priesthoodly-ordered me to go shop on Sunday, and asked why it was OK for him to tell me to do that, but not OK for me to work one Sunday a month or so (and at night, so I didn't miss any church)...
"That was different!" he bellowed.
Yeah, no it wasn't. Crack goes the shelf.
All because of sliced bread. :)