This is my body, broken for you

I can't tell you how many times I've heard these words used in a service of the Eucharist. I also can't tell you the number of times I've heard debate about the violence these invoke as well. I had an experience today that had me think about this in a new way.I went to an anatomy lecture today. The discussion centered around the issue of anatomical gifts - cadavers.

The most powerful portion, for me, was in the video interview of a woman who is dedicating her body to science. She has decided to allow students to open her, after her death, to study how her body works.She touched on her faith structure - the soul leaves at death, and all that remains is an empty vessel. It felt 2 Corinthians to me. She also talked about how she felt about death. She seemed so normal that she made the process of donation seem like a natural thing to do.What really struck me was when she talked about what she hoped for the students who would receive her body. She hoped that they would learn something about the human body that would help them in medicine. It was a gift that was meant to be passed on.

She knew, as we all do, that death will find us all. It was not a matter of "if" she will die but "when" she dies. What she has to say and teach goes on long after the wind ceases to move across her lips to speak in a language she was taught. She's not predicting a violent death. She's not predicting a painful death. She's accepting death as a passage and leaving behind something to be learned from.

Perhaps this is a message of Good News in the communion. It's more important to know that Jesus accepted that becoming human meant dying. He knew he would leave behind something that could be studied and contemplated, and that work would carry us through our journey - even when the wind ceased to blow over his moving lips. The breaking of the body is opening it up to show how love works. He handed over his body knowing that something could be learned from it... like the woman in the video. She cannot tell the students all she has to say unless they are willing to break the skin and look inside. When we break bread, we share it in a way that cannot be experienced if only one holds it - it must be broken to share... to see inside. It is selfless love that pays forward instead of asking to pay back.

I look forward to the memorial service for all of those who have donated their bodies for the cause of science. They may teach the med students many things they never thought they learned, but they taught a seminarian something about the Eucharist that will forever change the way I view it.