(Or: Why the Ham Lasts Until Pentecost)
There is a curious and largely undocumented miracle that occurs every year shortly after Easter Sunday.
It is not recorded in the Gospels.
It is not listed in the Book of Alternative Services.
It is not discussed in the writings of the Church Fathers, although I suspect they may have quietly experienced it.
It is this:
The Easter Ham Never Ends.
You begin with a perfectly reasonable ham. A modest ham. A ham that any responsible household might reasonably expect to consume over the course of perhaps two or three meals.
But something happens.
You carve it at Easter dinner. Everyone enjoys it. It is delicious. Resurrection joy fills the room.
And yet when the meal is finished and the plates are cleared, the ham remains.
You wrap it carefully and place it in the refrigerator.
The next day it appears again.
Not as a ham, exactly, but as ham sandwiches.
Then comes ham with eggs.
Then ham in soup.
Then ham in pasta.
Then, in a moment of great culinary creativity — or desperation — ham in absolutely everything.
Weeks pass.
The Easter lilies begin to wilt.
The chocolate eggs disappear.
The alleluias settle comfortably into parish life again.
But the ham remains.
If carefully managed, it will last well into the season of Easter, occasionally appearing again just when one thought it had been safely concluded.
I have long suspected that this is not merely a culinary phenomenon.
It is, in fact, a theological one.
Resurrection Is an Abundance Problem
One of the most striking features of the resurrection stories in the Gospels is the sheer abundance of life that follows.
The tomb is empty.
Angels appear.
Jesus walks through locked doors.
He meets the disciples on the road.
He cooks breakfast on the beach.
Life begins to overflow everywhere.
The resurrection is not tidy or contained.
It spills out in every direction.
Grace multiplies.
Hope multiplies.
Joy multiplies.
And sometimes, apparently, ham multiplies.
The resurrection of Jesus is not a small victory.
It is not a quiet adjustment to the world.
It is an overflow of life.
And when life overflows, things begin to multiply in surprising ways.
Bread multiplies.
Fish multiply.
And occasionally leftovers multiply.
Easter Leftovers and Holy Hospitality
The real beauty of leftovers is not simply that they last.
It is that they invite hospitality.
Leftovers mean there is enough.
Enough to share.
Enough to welcome someone unexpectedly.
Enough to say to a neighbour or friend:
“Stay a while. There is still food.”
The resurrection of Jesus creates exactly this kind of world.
A world where there is always enough grace.
Enough forgiveness for another beginning.
Enough hope for another tomorrow.
Enough love to share again.
The early Church understood this instinctively. They gathered at table, shared their food, welcomed strangers, and discovered that grace multiplies when it is shared.
The table becomes a place where resurrection continues.
Sometimes through Eucharist.
Sometimes through soup.
And occasionally through ham that simply refuses to run out.
Resurrection Generosity
The resurrection teaches us something very important about God.
God is not careful with grace.
God is extravagant with it.
God does not measure mercy in tidy portions.
God pours it out.
Again and again.
And the Church, when it is at its best, reflects this same spirit.
Open doors.
Open tables.
Open hearts.
Resurrection people are not stingy people.
We are people who believe that there is always more life to be shared.
More kindness to give.
More grace to offer.
More hope to pass along.
Just like Easter leftovers.
The Quiet Joy of the Season
The season of Easter lasts fifty days, and perhaps that is no accident.
It takes time for resurrection joy to settle into our bones.
At first we celebrate with trumpets and lilies and magnificent alleluias.
But gradually Easter becomes quieter.
It appears in small moments.
In laughter.
In shared meals.
In kindness.
In generosity.
And yes, sometimes in leftovers.
Because resurrection joy is not only something we celebrate once.
It is something we live with day by day.
A Small Easter Prayer
Gracious God,
you are generous beyond measure.
Your love overflows the boundaries we expect,
and your grace multiplies where we least imagine it.
Teach us to live as resurrection people —
generous in spirit,
open in hospitality,
and joyful in sharing the abundance you give.
And if, in your wisdom,
the Easter ham happens to last a little longer than expected,
help us to remember
that your mercy lasts even longer.
Alleluia.
Amen.