As they came near the village to which they were going, he walked ahead as if he were going on. But they urged him strongly, saying, “Stay with us, because it is almost evening and the day is now nearly over.” So he went in to stay with them. When he was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him; and he vanished from their sight. They said to each other, “Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?” That same hour they got up and returned to Jerusalem; and they found the eleven and their companions gathered together. They were saying, “The Lord has risen indeed, and he has appeared to Simon!” Then they told what had happened on the road, and how he had been made known to them in the breaking of the bread.
Luke 24.13-25
I love the stories of the resurrected Jesus. It's clear that the gospel writers are as confounded by the idea of resurrection as the rest of us, but over and over they come back to the same theme: the resurrection means bodies doing bodily things.
In this narrative from that first Sunday of the resurrection in the Gospel of Luke, the scene is as ordinary as it can be. Bodies walking somewhere. And talking. And wondering. And then, the story climaxes in an ordinary supper. Bread. This is "how he had been made known to them." Sitting around a table, reaching for the rolls he passed.
These readings from this Easter season are the source of this writing project of mine and this resurrection faith I walk around with, talk about, sit down to eat with.
The stories of the resurrection are not about ethereal otherworldliness. This is not the time for abstracted notions of spirituality. This is not even the time for meditative solitude and prayer. The stories of the resurrection constantly call people together and often provide snacks. The stories of the resurrection are about touching and proclaiming and walking and questioning and fishing and eating.
The stories of the resurrection, like the stories of the incarnation, demand that we confront our humanness and, in fact, place that humanness at the center of the story, at the place where the story begins and ends.
The revelation of the resurrection is the revelation of the truest end for human beings realized by the grace of God. Pass the bread.
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