In the name of the Risen Jesus. Amen.
The
Bible is full of wonderful and inspiring stories, and this one that Luke
presents to us this morning, often called “The Road to Emmaus,” has got to be
near the top of the list. For me, what’s so grand about this story is that it’s
both every day and spectacular. It includes such normal things being on a
commute and eating a meal and such an extraordinary thing as encountering the
Risen Jesus. It’s easy to put ourselves into this story, and so for the sermon
this morning that’s what I want to do – to consider this story not from the
outside, but let’s get into it and let the Holy Spirit guide our imaginations
that we, too, might encounter Jesus through it.
The
story begins on the evening of Easter with two disciples, Cleopas and an
unnamed disciple. In John’s telling of the Passion, one of the people at the
Cross is identified as “Mary, the wife of Clopas.” So there’s a good
possibility that we have a husband and wife walking back home after being in
Jerusalem for the events of the Passover celebration which included the
execution of the rabbi that they followed. I imagine that what they were
feeling is something we’re familiar with these days – utter confusion,
frustration, sadness, and anger.
The
word that Luke uses when he records that “They stood still, looking sad,” means
so much more than sadness. It’s that sort of sad, even angry, disappointment
when something goes wrong but you’re not sure who to blame. Maybe, sort of like
how we feel about this virus. So many things are not going as we had hoped. So
much more uncertainty that we wanted. And there’s no one to blame. Sure, we can
point as public officials and say that they could have done this or that
differently. And while there are some things people should be accountable for, that’s
not the same as blame. No single person is to blame for this pandemic just as
no single person can be blamed for Jesus’ death.
And
that’s frustrating. Because if there is someone to blame then it means that
this all could have been avoided. But it couldn’t have been avoided. Jesus
makes this clear when he says, “Was it not necessary that the Messiah should
suffer these things and then enter into glory?” Jesus’ death was unavoidable
just as this pandemic was unavoidable. But that leaves us with undirected
blame, which causes frustration and anger on top of the grief and
disappointment.
Sometimes,
when we are in that emotional state, we make poor choices. Earlier in Luke, we
read that the women at the tomb on Easter morning came and told the disciples
that Jesus isrisen. Luke then records that these words were received as “an
idle tale.” We can assume the Cleopas and his partner also thought these words
were nonsense. We know they’ve heard the report from the women, and yet they
are walking home despondent, disturbed, and depressed. And they’re going in the
wrong direction. Jerusalem is the religious center of their faith. It is the
city where Jesus was crucified and raised, it is the city where the Holy Spirit
will descend on the disciples. But their hopes have been dashed; so, like a
couple of fans who leave when their team is down by 2 in the 8th
inning and miss the great come from behind victory in the 9th, they
head home early. Have you ever felt that way? Like you have too many doubts to
believe? Like you have too many questions and not enough answers? Like you
aren’t good enough or things aren’t going your way enough? Like you just want
to give up?
Well,
guess what? Jesus comes and meets them anyway. Even when we are on the wrong
path, Jesus comes to meet us. Though, when Jesus comes to them, they don’t
recognize him. Or, more precisely, “their eyes were kept from recognizing him.”
Did Jesus actually look different or could they not see past their
disappointments? We can’t say for certain. Back in Genesis, Jacob had a dream
and when he woke up, he said, “Surely the Lord is in this place and I did not
know it.” These two were talking with Jesus himself, and they did not know it.
We are always surrounded by God’s grace and love, we are always in God’s
presence. But we don’t always recognize it. Sometimes that’s because of our
emotions, as we’ve already considered. And sometimes it’s because we’re looking
for the wrong things.
When
the unrecognized Jesus comes to them, he asks, “What are you talking about?”
Imagine having a stranger knock as your door. Instinctively, you jump back when
you open the door because you haven’t been this close to a stranger in weeks.
So you say, “Where’s your face mask, don’t you know about the virus?” The
stranger says, “What virus?” Well, that shock must have been a bit of what
these two were feeling.
Now,
Cleopas and his companion had the facts – they note that Jesus was from Nazareth,
was a prophet mighty both in deed and word, that he was crucified, that the
hopes for Israel’s redemption rested in him, and that the women at the tomb
that morning proclaimed the Resurrection. More or less, that’s a decent summary
of the entire Gospel. They had all the facts right, but what they were missing the
meaning. Maybe that reminds you a bit of our situation – having lots of
information but very little understanding. What these two disciples missed, and
what prevented them was seeing Jesus, was they missed that the Scriptures have
what we might call a “Jesus trajectory.” In the ordination liturgy, the person
being ordained has to affirm that they believe that Scripture contains all
things necessary for salvation.
And
while that’s absolutely true, it can be misleading. Scripture is not a book of
incantations or rules that lead us to salvation. Salvation doesn’t come from
Scripture, rather Scripture testifies to our salvation which comes from Jesus
Christ. The point of reading Scripture isn’t to make us better people; instead,
when we read the Bible it’s about meeting Jesus there. When we read with a
Jesus trajectory, we expect to meet Jesus as we engage with Scripture. Cleopas
and the other disciple weren’t expecting to find Jesus in their discussion and
so they didn’t find him. And I don’t blame them for that; in their shoes, I
don’t think I would have recognized Jesus. Jesus assures us that all the
Scriptures testify to him and we have the benefit of this story to guide our
reading of Scripture towards Jesus.
In
this time of staying at home, it’s a great time to try to read Scripture and
encounter the Risen Lord in doing so. People often ask where to start and I
often suggest Mark or John, or read a Psalm a day. Every Wednesday, we send out
an email to the parish and the first thing in that email has a link to the
readings for the upcoming Sunday, so you might spend time reading those
passages. If you’ve got people in your household, have a conversation one night
over dinner about the passage. This Emmaus story tells us that Jesus shows up
in such conversations. Or if it’s more your style, journal with the Scripture
passage – write down what it evokes, what questions come to your mind, where
you see Jesus in the passage. In the coming weeks, I’m going to be providing
some more suggestions that go in the weekly email for how you can do this. But
don’t wait on that, go ahead and take up and read and Jesus will meet you
there.
These
two disciples are getting closer to their home and they give us the origins of
that great hymn for the evening: “Abide with me: fast falls the eventide; the
darkness deepens; Lord, abide with me.” This isn’t to say that Jesus has to be
invited in, sometimes Jesus will barge right on in. But it is to say that when
we issue Jesus an invitation, he comes in. While it may seem that Jesus is the
guest here, he soon becomes the host as he takes, blesses, breaks, and gives
them bread. Those are the same action words as in the earlier story of the
feeding of the crowds. Those are the same words that describe Jesus’ entire
ministry. And those words very clearly describe the Eucharist. Jesus feeds them
and once they are fed, these disciples recognize Jesus. In Jesus, God gives us
what we need to satisfy our souls’ longings. It was St. Augustine who said that
our hearts are restless until they rest in God. In the breaking of bread, our
hearts are satisfied in the God who abundantly and graciously feeds us.
Building
on the foundation of Scripture, Jesus is made known to us in the breading of
the bread, which is nothing less than the very Body of Christ. Now, because of
this pandemic, it’s simply not possible to join the sacred meal of the
Eucharist together. Digital Communion, while a nice thought, simply isn’t
Sacramental. Through Spiritual Communion, we are able to join in the
Eucharistic celebration, but this practice is the exception, not the norm. This
issue is that we are not present to one another in the same way. However, and
this is a big however, that doesn’t mean that Jesus is not present to us.
This
Emmaus encounter takes place in this couple’s home. Jesus is present with you
in your homes as well. Over meals, in prayer, in reading Scripture, in acts of
charity – Jesus comes and is present with us. The result in this encounter is
that their hearts are burning within them, which stands in contrast to earlier
when Jesus says that they are “slow of heart.” Those slow hearts are
transformed and kindled into burning hearts. Their hearts are on fire with
faith, hope, and love.
What
sets your heart on fire? And I don’t mean what makes you take an antacid, I
mean what makes your soul sing? One of the things about this pandemic is that
it’s a “holy reset” button of sorts. Those things that make your hearts cold –
you’re probably not doing as much of those things right now. As things start to
reopen, you’re going to hear a lot of people trying to tell you what should be
normal. A lot of brands are going to encourage you to spend money on their products
to get back to normal. But is it a normal we want?
Truly,
this is a once in a lifetime opportunity to shift our focus and priorities.
Now, I realize that I’m playing with fire here. What if you think that church
isn’t something you want to prioritize? Well, I’m thinking that if you’re
watching or listening to this, then church is one of those things that sets
your heart on fire and you’re going to keep that up. Instead of church being
something you do if nothing else is going on, that time is now available to be
protected. No one is going to question you if you say, “Sorry, can’t do that,
we want to be in church because we recognized in this pandemic how important
that is to our lives.” You can do the same for reading Scripture or praying in
your daily and weekly routines. So much has been stripped from our lives and we
will have the chance to decide what gets put back in. What is a blessing to
you, what brings joy to your life, what makes your lives richer, what makes
your kids happy, what makes you feel loved? This pandemic has given us the
chance to focus more on those holy things that make our hearts burn.
Then,
having experienced the Risen Christ, these two followers of Jesus head back to
Jerusalem and share with the other disciples that they have seen Jesus.
Proclamation is the result of relationship. So many of you have done that
already – as people are watching our online worship because you have introduced
it to them. Maybe you didn’t use these exact words, but you’ve said: “Let me
show you a place that I’ve found Jesus during this troubling time.” And in
doing so, you are proclaiming that the Lord is risen indeed.
This
is the grace of Easter – that we are able to recognize Jesus in conversations
with one another, in reading Scripture, in acts of hospitality, in the breaking
of bread, and in our homes. Ultimately, what this grand Road to Emmaus story
tells us is that Jesus is risen and that he is present in our lives. These are
difficult and isolating times, but, no matter what, we are not alone for Jesus
is always with us and because of that, indeed, all shall be well.
