Psalm 4 and Luke 24:36b-48
Close your eyes and think a moment… What is your favorite memory of a meal?
Why did you pick that one? Was it the food? The company? The whole experience?
One of the memories that floats straight to the top for me is kind of unexpected. The setting was Powell, Wyoming along one of those iconic fast-moving streams. We were invited to a day of fly-fishing. Now, if you have just a little trouble imagining me in decked out in camouflage with full hip waders, carrying the extremely long pole of a fly fisher… well, you’re right. It’s only happened that one time and it only happened through the grace of Ben’s uncle Ken… an avid fly-fisherman who basically carried me with one arm so that I could have this remarkable experience and not end up washed away by the strong mountain waters. We fished for a bit… Mostly Ken caught the fish, although he cheered us on when we caught a few, and then we came to shore where his son had a campfire going. Ken and Jason fileted, breaded and cooked all those fish over the open fire. It was an incredibly memorable meal—just fish, so many fresh fish, a delicious and once-in-a-lifetime kind of experience.
So many of the resurrection meals that Jesus shared with wondering disciples involved fish—and I can almost taste it with them—the fresh fish shared on the beach, the fish passed around the table. This community depended on fishing for their livelihood before they ever met Jesus. Fish remained an essential part of their lives and here, fish reveals that Jesus’ resurrection is not just a powerful vision or act of loving imagination but Jesus is real. Jesus is eating.
Jesus’ living body is real enough that they are asked to share fish.
It’s a wonder how it all happened—and at the same time, they share in the meal and begin to be able to trust that life has actually defeated death. It’s wondrous and wonderful and more…
Like some of you who shared with us your wondrous experience at the solar eclipse, ELCA Pastor Katie Hines-Shahwho is pastor of Redeemer Lutheran Church in Evanston, Illinois shared her experience. Here are her words:
Like an eclipse, Jesus’ reappearance is entirely predictable.
Eclipses happen every 18 months or so. Astronomers know exactly when and where they will occur… these events are so common that some people have seen dozens of eclipses in their lifetimes. They know what’s going to happen.
Likewise - over and over Jesus told the disciples exactly what was going to happen during Holy Week…like an eclipse, Jesus’ resurrection is something you can prepare for.
When the eclipse actually came, [Pastor Katie] felt ready – although there still would be surprises. Depending on which Gospel you read, Jesus’ disciples have had a lot of time to get ready… hearing scripture, worshipping in the temple, accompanying Jesus as he taught and healed and worked miracles--this seems like good preparation. And yet, in all of the resurrection appearance stories, there is a lack of recognition and even fear. [All of the witnesses] went through their own period of disbelief and wonder when they first encountered the risen Christ. There is no amount of preparing that really would be enough to understand the resurrection.
And maybe this too is a lesson from the eclipse.
Pastor Katie writes—We had scouted out a good spot and had our glasses on as the sun started to disappear. Just as I expected, it grew steadily darker, although honestly, I was surprised how much light even the smallest sliver of the sun produces. Until we reached totality. And it was shocking. It was like someone had flipped a switch. The whole world turned dark in an instant. Dawn reversed, pinks and blues peeking out at the edges of the entire horizon. The sun, was suddenly gone, completely obscured by a totally circular, endlessly black sphere. The rays around were eerily white, and we could look at comfortably with the naked eye. Solar flares eked out at the edges, a strange red dot on the bottom of the sun. Jupiter and Venus appeared, perfectly in alignment. But that wasn’t all.
When totality first started, I was surprised how frightening it was. We all got really quiet. Though it was midday, even the birds stopped singing. All the people moved close together, friend, stranger, and family alike - a primal awe overwhelming us. I had heard that during eclipses people had gotten engaged and that wars had ceased. It suddenly all made sense. The eclipse revealed, we were so small in the midst of the universe. So vulnerable. So much human nonsense wasn’t all that important in the greater scheme of things. All we could do was grab one another for a moment and hang on – to life, to love, to hope.
“Touch me,” Jesus says to the shocked disciples. “I am not a ghost.” Jesus knew, he knows, our need for the concrete, our need to be together. I think there is a reason Jesus appears most often to groups…
We need each other for support, for perspective, for hope. No one can do this life thing on our own. So, we need to be ready, not for the miracle – for who can be ready for that? – but for the other part – to be in fellowship, to reach out in love, to admit our mistakes, to say we are sorry—all of this is what makes human relationship possible. Life is too short to delay.
Jesus’ resurrection, like the eclipse, is a reminder that the world can change at any time.
Our best preparation is community.
Pastor Katie continues - As the sun reappeared, first as a diamond as if on a ring, then as a crescent, then as a whole, I felt something strangely familiar. It was a sort of near-death experience, the elation that happens when something terrible or new happens and yet you survive… And it really was familiar, and it took me a minute to realize why.
It’s the way I feel every Easter. It’s the way I feel when I worship. When we gather and share the stories of [God’s saving acts]. When we hear the story of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection, we come close. When we pray for our friends who are sick, when we grieve those who have died, when we celebrate a baptism we understand. As we confess our sin, as we sing together, as we share the peace, as we join in the meal, we are like those first disciples in that locked room. We are like those who gathered to view the eclipse. We get that feeling. We individuals are small in the universe, but God has made us for community…Even in our disbelieving and wondering we can’t help but confess – we have seen something amazing.
This week, I went to visit Charles Engleking in the last hours of his earthly life. I entered the hospice building to meet the caring people who were caring for his body as he took his last breaths. I told them some of the stories of Chuck’s life here in Christ—how he was part of the special needs Confirmation class in ; how before the pandemic, Chuck always carried the Ethiopian processional cross in and out of worship—every Sunday—and on the day of the Christmas program, how Chuck held high the Christmas star. I told about how much he loved to have a new Thrivent Action team shirt and how he loved being part of the KICKS summer program. I shared how toward the end of his time of being able to come to worship, how it was hard to keep Chuck from eating too much sugar at the coffee and fellowship time—which we really tried to do on behalf of his health and his healthcare workers who were trying to manage Chuck’s serious diabetes. I told about how even after Chuck could no longer bear the weight of the processional cross safely, he still called himself and we acknowledged that he was the “Pastor’s helper.” I told them how Chuck asked for prayer before each worship service with the preacher and worship leader.
On Thursday, I sat with Chuck and listened to his breathing, played some music and hummed a few songs. Mostly classics but also this new one came to mind--“Be not afraid, sing out for joy, Christ is risen, Alleluia. Be not afraid, sing out for joy, Christ is risen, Alleluia!”
A few hours after I left, Chuck peacefully died… and now just imagine the reunion taking place between Chuck and his family and his family in Christ—so many beloved ones were there to welcome Chuck into eternal life, to join with him in the feast that has no end… a feast in which we can imagine that Chuck no longer has to watch what he eats.
In our welcome words today, we hear, ‘These meals that the risen Christ shares with the disciples, show us the meaning of the meals we share each Sunday. In Christ’s words and in the meal we share, we learn and re-learn the meaning of Jesus’ suffering, death, and resurrection. In the meals we share, we taste and see the risen Christ. We have this time for sharing in the wonders—the everyday and remarkably rare wonders of sun, moon, planets and stars; the gifts of life in community; the once-in-lifetime wonders of transitioning from life to death to life.
We have this time, this space, for remembering in a world that can change in a moment, the deep gift and wondrous miracle of all this we share in Christ.
