Bodies Matter—and that’s no fish tale! Easter Tuesday 4/22/25
Luke’s Epilogue to his gospel—the amazing Emmaus Road journey—culminates with the scattered, traumatized community of Jesus-followers regathering at a Jerusalem safe house, still trying to reckon with the execution of their rabbi (Lk 24:33-47).
There, the beleaguered disciples must struggle with an even more shocking prospect, both joyful and astonishing, as the Risen Christ famously invites them to touch his mutilated body. This extraordinary, uncomfortable moment takes us to the core of somatic theology (see my reflections on this here). Right: A reimagination of Caravaggio’s “The incredulity of St. Thomas,” 1601.
While they try to sort out their confusion, an exhausted Jesus 2.0—who, after all, had literally been to hell and back—asks, almost whimsically: “Dudes! It’s been a long couple of days, and I’ve been through, you know, a lot; anybody got a sandwich for a brother?” He is given a broiled fish, and eats it.
Luke here again radically centers the somatic: just as the Risen One still bears the scars of his showdown with empire, his body continues to feel hunger. Disciples are thus invited not only to touch flesh that has experienced violation, but also to attend to its needs. And that is our clarion Easter call to the gospel work of restorative justice. Bodies matter.
Which also means the body of Creation matters. On this Easter Tuesday, eco-elder Bill McKibben (now of thirdact.org) offers a poignant reflection on the 55th anniversary of EarthDay, from which I’d like to excerpt:
I spend a lot of time telling young people about the first Earth Day. They have a hard time imagining the scale—20 million Americans, ten percent of the then-population, the largest demonstration in American history—and even more
trouble conceiving of what it accomplished: the Clean Air Act, the Clean Water Act, the EPA, all wrested from a corrupt Republican administration. (Right: Earth Day demonstration, 1970.)
The optimism of that moment is impossible to conjure up right now (though, truthfully, it was a short optimism; the killings at Kent State and Jackson State followed it by mere days). But we can honor that moment by doing all we can to produce some of the same kind of momentum.
The hottest March on record just came and went—and at the same time, we’re seeing an alarming rollback of environmental protections dating all the way back to that first Earth Day in 1970. What we can do in this moment is remember that day not just as history, but as a blueprint…
Remember that the first Earth Day was powered by the pictures that had just come back from space: the first glimpses of a beautiful blue-white earth suspended in the inky void. That earth is more tattered now, and it’s lost some of that white at the poles, but it remains sublime. And it remains worth fighting for!”
I remember the first Earth Day. I was in the ninth grade, and felt like I’d received a life-commissioning to a vocation of what we would today call ecojustice. Three years later I received another such commissioning, when I responded to Jesus’ call to discipleship. It arose from my first experience with Bible study (not having been raised in church). The text was Luke’s version of the loaves and fishes meal in the wilderness (9:10-17).
I loved the part about gathering up the leftovers, and shared with the group my delight that this Jesus was also committed to recycling and community sharing. It was my first existential connection to the wisdom of ancient sacred storytelling.
My evangelical study leader sternly dismissed my reading as “missing the spiritual point.” But fifty years of scripture study and activism later, I believe more than ever that such a socio-economic reading was the point. Because not only do bodies and earth matter; they are the central subject of Resurrection faith and practice.
At right is my favorite depiction of the “Great Catch,” a third Lukan fish story (Lk 5:6-7). It was painted by worldclass L.A. artist John August Swanson, a dear friend now of blessed memory.
As was his gift, he captured beautifully that moment of eschatological and ecological ecstasy. (To see how I connect the above three fish stories—and relate them to the Sabbath Economics vision that a rightly shared Creation can sustain everyone, starting with the poorest—check out my free webinar tomorrow with Faith & Money Network; register here).
May we embrace with hearts and hands the fierce hope of Jesus’ Uprising, and recommit to personal and political care for wounded bodies and a mortally wounded earth.
[Note: The Revised Common Lectionary takes an Eastertide detour through John’s gospel, so I’ll take a month’s break from these weekly blogs. This allows Elaine and I to catch our breaths from a very demanding schedule these last several months, and to travel to both Guatemala (to co-preside at a marriage recommitment ceremony of two young activist friends), and to participate in the Second Festival of Radical Discipleship at Kirkridge, PA. I’ll be back to reflect on Luke’s Ascension (week of May 26) and Pentecost (week of June 2) stories. Then we begin Ordinary Time, and a long string of Lukan gospel readings—good time for a study group or preaching series! Through the end of July you can order HARP at 20% off using discount code SOJO20 at my page on Bookshop.org.]
–Ched
