Sunday, April 14, 2024

(Luke 24:35-48)

Ok, so does anyone else get a kick out of the Gospel for the Third Sunday of Easter?

No? Just me?

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not being irreverent or disrespectful. I legitimately love it because it is just so real that it never fails to make me laugh. Indulge me as I share a little perspective here.

In order to appreciate this, we need to establish our background: the disciples have just spent the past three years or so with Jesus, and they’ve seen him prove his identity more than once with some pretty trippy stuff. I mean, really… it’s not every Thomas, Didymus, and Herod that goes around walking on water, much less raising people from the dead. The healings, the feedings, the changing water into wine thing (my favourite miracle, I must say…) well, they’re kind of his trademark, right?

Cut to the present scene: the disciples have pretty much been carpet bombed by the events of the past few days. They just witnessed the brutal execution of their friend and leader. They feared for their own safety. And on top of that, their work, their ministry, their purpose, everything they’ve devoted their lives to, it has all just evaporated in a shocking, violent, and definitive way. They are traumatized. Devastated. Absolutely shattered.

Now, here they are, trying to come to grips with all of this, and suddenly two friends are adamant that they’ve just seen Jesus. Alive. Things begin to get out of hand as everyone tries to make sense of what they just heard. Questions fly. Brows furrow. Confusion reigns. And that’s when Jesus, with impeccable timing, walks in through a locked door and says, “Peace be with you.”

Cue the chaos.

And I am LOVING this. (I mean, can’t you just see it???) And it gets even wilder.

The disciples are now legitimately freaking out because they think they’re seeing a ghost. And Jesus tries to help by showing him the holes in his hands and feet. Right, because that’s going to make things better. Nice job, JC. Now they’re horrified and terrified.

Now, let’s take a step back and remember that the Jesus these guys are accustomed to has proven that he is the very embodiment of God, time and again, by working miracles. But the “big miracle” thing doesn’t seem to be doing it this time. They’re still in a state of sheer disbelief. And it’s in the midst of this pandemonium that Jesus utters the most mundane question on the planet:

“Got anything to eat?”

I can’t be the only one who finds this hilarious. Jesus has just performed most epic miracle in human history – rising from the dead – and it’s literally a snack that walks the disciples off the edge of delirium and convinces them that it’s really him.

I can totally relate to this. There are days when it feels like my vocation, my purpose, sometimes even my entire life is in complete shambles. Chaos reigns. I’m exhausted. I’m emotional. I’m completely irrational. At that point, Jesus could stand right in front of me and work a miracle that fixes everything instantly, and I’d still be so unglued and focused on myself and my own problems that it would sail right over my head.

And that’s when he shows his presence in something completely unremarkable. Mundane, even. A text message from a friend. A hallway chat with a co-worker. A sunbeam. A hug. A purring cat. A nap. A bowl of shreddies with brown sugar.  When chaos reigns, it often ends up being the ordinary things in my life that bring me to my senses and remind me that Jesus is standing right in the same room.

Sometimes miracles aren’t enough to get my attention. And that’s why I love this gospel passage. It unfailingly makes me laugh as it reminds me: never underestimate the revelation and spiritual restoration that can occur in something as simple as a snack.

By Darcie Lich