Some say he was the son of God. Others say he was just a man. Others, a myth. This thought has nothing to do with that argument, but with a moment in the story of the last supper that is worth some thought.
First of all, skin. Snakes, when they are ready to use their new skin, peel out of their old flesh and leave a beautiful treasure for a kid to find and pin to the wall. We humans are not so graceful as snakes; our skin we leave in flakes and bits in the air, the tabletop, everywhere. 5 people in a car are all breathing one another in, literally inhaling one another’s flesh, between home and their destination. And so,
If we can imagine a last supper with bread and wine, and if we can accept that Jesus may have made the bread he shared at that meal–or even if not, that he broke the bread with his hands when he said “this is my body”–that it actually was his body.
This image, of the hands of farmers, of millers, of bakers, all leaving themselves in and on the loaf that sits before me on the table, is far from grotesque–it is an image of community, which ends with unity. Yes, yes, baking surely burns out all the bits tat might be yucky to think about, but not the flavor. El Sabor. We eat bread and we can quite literally taste our own humanity.