The majority of resurrection appearances seem to have occurred in the context of gathering for a meal. We all have to eat. It’s a regular, mundane, necessary part of life, crossing over every human category, whether we are rich or poor, young or old. It can be boring and tedious. Nonetheless, it is necessary for human existence to continue. The point is, the risen Lord does not spurn or denigrate such universal earthly concerns. He does not initiate the disciples in secret and ethereal formulas that will help to separate them into the saved from the damned. He does not try to whisk the disciples away to a place far removed from the world in which they live. Rather, he recognizes their everyday needs and joins them. The living presence of our Lord is never centered in some separate spiritual world, is never disembodied, floating off, as it were, like an untethered balloon into another existence.
As many of you know, one of my hobbies is designing stained glass windows. The resurrection window, that will go right over there where it will catch the morning sun, will not be of some garden scene with Jesus among pastel wisteria bushes and bright tulips with birds and butterflies flying about. No, in Ithaca it’s too cold for wisteria to fully and dependably bloom and the deer would devour all the tulips. The scene would be along the Elmira Road. In the far left hand corner, one would see a billboard for u-haul rental trailers, and on the right the gaudy, lighted entrance for an auto parts superstore. There would be plenty of traffic: cars, heavily stained trash haulers loaded with urban garbage going up the landfill, and rusty pick –up trucks leaving behind a trail of blue smoky exhaust. Jesus would be standing in the middle of the playground in front of a MacDonald’s, surrounded by the yellow and orange plastic playground equipment. There would be a few flowers attempting to brave and break through the woodchips and cement curbs. In one hand Jesus would be holding out a container of fries, with small cups of ketchup running over and staining the sides, and with his other hand, holding a few greasy napkins, he would be helping to push a child down a small slide. Both Jesus and the children would be smiling and having fun.
Peter fell asleep in Gethsemane, denied Jesus in the courtyard, and left Jerusalem to go back fishing after seeing the empty tomb, and yet Jesus went after him and found him. “Do you love me?” is what Peter heard Jesus ask, but I always wondered, whether what Jesus really said was “Are you hungry Peter? Are you hungry?” Peter discovered that he didn’t need a reservation for God’s table; he didn’t have to have a friend intercede for him in order to get seated. He didn’t even have to tip a maitre d’ guarding the door. Yes, Peter knew he had failed Jesus, but Jesus didn’t let him go that easily. What the Gospel is telling us is that Peter did not need a reservation; he needed an invitation!
Micky D’s is a great social leveler. In a pinch anyone can stop by. It’s sort of like what the church is called to be, a franchise of our Lord in which our doors are always open, and we are continually changing the sign about how many more are served.
The world is still hungry for the Gospel, as it was when Jesus met the early disciples along the Galilean lakeshore. The world is hungry for a place where people are consistently offered a message of hope, faith and love. They are hungry for a fellowship that is compassionate and sensitive to each other's fears, respectful of one's personhood, and happy over each other's joys and accomplishments. They are hungry for a community that is not afraid to share with one another the deeper dimensions of their lives as well as offering the space to regroup and begin again. Humanity does not need a fancy or exclusive reservation for someplace that is separated from life, but an invitation to be welcomed and to be nourished.
We are still sent as witnesses to the Good News. Jesus is risen. "Get cooking and feed the world," Jesus says, "and I will be among you. As you give others the food of good news, you will be ministering to me." Yes, I think a resurrection window in loud garish petrochemical hues of Jesus at the MacDonald’s along the Elmira road would fit in just fine. St. John’s is really part of a large franchise. Maybe the only real difference between disciples today and the first disciples, who ate with Jesus along the lakeshore, is that French fries and ketchup have been substituted for fried fish and tartar sauce.
And I offer this to you in the name of the Living God, Amen.
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