In the name of the Risen Lord. Amen.
This
passage from Luke is my favorite of the Resurrection appearances of Jesus and
is one of the longest of the Resurrection appearances and provides no shortage
of material for the preacher, and it is found only in Luke. If you read the
verses immediately before and after this passage, it reads as a cohesive unit-
“But Peter got up and ran to the tomb; stooping and looking in, he saw the
linen cloths by themselves; then he went home, amazed at what had happened…
while they were talking about this, Jesus himself stood among them and said to
them, ‘Peace be with you.’”
But
that story is interrupted by this narrative of Jesus on the road to Emmaus.
What was it that Luke was wanting to make sure that we understood about the
Risen Lord by interjecting it into this other narrative about Jesus’ appearing
to the disciples? It’s a wonderful story about Jesus meeting us where we are,
in the midst of life.
Cleopas
and the other, unnamed follower were walking home to Emmaus from Jerusalem,
about a 7 mile journey that would have taken about 2 hours to walk. And they
were discussing the happenings of the week- the procession with palms into the
city, Jesus’ skirmishes with the Scribes and Pharisees, the arrest and trial,
and the violent death of their teacher. Everyone knew that Jesus had died, as
it was done out in public. These followers had heard the account of the women-
that Jesus was alive again. But that was just mere speculation, no one
witnessed the Resurrection as they had the Crucifixion. So they walk home,
confused about what to do next.
This
is a place that many of us find ourselves as well. We celebrated Easter, but
we’re left asking that same question- “what now?” As they’re walking and
talking, a stranger approaches them and asks to join in the conversation. Maybe
this stranger reminded them of someone, maybe he looked like a total stranger,
we don’t know. But we do know that they had no idea that it was Jesus walking
with them. As I’ve said before on Easter, the Resurrection isn’t an event to
comprehend or explain, but is rather a reality to live into. How is it that
Jesus was unrecognizable to these disciples? I don’t know, and it really
doesn’t matter much, so let’s not get tripped up in that detail.
What
matters though is the story that they were telling. They recounted the horrors
and shock of Good Friday, and they said “But we had hoped that he was the one
to redeem Israel.” Those might be the four saddest words in human language-
“but we had hoped.” Hoped- in the past tense. Their hope had been shattered. We
all know the pains of broken hope. I had hoped that the treatment would work on
her cancer. I had hoped that he would do well in rehab. I had hoped the new job
would bring happiness to my life. I had hoped that a vacation would rekindle
the romance. “But we had hoped.”
But
this encounter reminds us that the Risen Lord meets us in those places of
brokenness and dashed hopes. Jesus is not the undefeated champion, but rather
the Suffering Servant who entered glory through the Cross. And by inviting
these followers to tell their stories, Jesus is teaching them, and us, not to
despise the painful parts of our lives. We don’t need to fear our enemies or
lament our mistakes, but instead we can follow Jesus into the scary parts of
our lives, because he has been there and has the scars to prove it. The Risen
Jesus appears to the disappointed and the doubtful, to those who have given up,
and in doing so, he shows us the blessedness of brokenness. When Jesus is resurrected,
it is not that the scars go away and that the Cross is erased, but rather they
are given new meanings.
But
these followers of Jesus were struggling to grasp this reality. They couldn’t
see how this was the sort of Messiah that the Scriptures were anticipating. St.
Augustine, before he was a Christian, is purported to have had an exchange with
St. Ambrose, Bishop of Milan. Augustine said that he struggled to read the
Bible because, as a student of the classics, he found himself unimpressed with
the crudely written and poorly edited Bible. Ambrose replies “You fool! You
read ‘fish’ and think of a fish; you read ‘bread’ and imagine a loaf of bread,”
and he began to teach him how to read Scripture. And as the story goes, one day
Augustine was moved to pick up a Bible and turned to a random passage, and thus
began his conversion. Jesus does the same thing with these followers. He says
“Oh, how foolish you are,” and then he breaks open the Scriptures to them. He
taught them how to see something more in the text than they realized was there.
They had thought that Messiah would redeem Israel from suffering, but as it turns out, the Messiah was redeeming the
world through suffering.
I
don’t often find much wisdom in bumper stickers, but I saw one recently that
really stuck with me. It read “Don’t believe everything that you think.”
Cleopas and the other follower were struggling with that. They thought that
death was final. They thought the Scriptures were clear about what sort of
Messiah to expect. They thought that hope was lost. And in doing so, they
closed themselves off to the possibility of what God was doing in front of
their very eyes. How do we do the same? In what ways are we so stuck in our
thoughts about which political party is right, or when do we close the book
when there are more chapters yet to be written? When do we close ourselves off
to the fact that God is ushering in new possibilities? Don’t believe everything
that you think.
Thank
goodness for those followers, and for us, that Jesus comes to us even when
we’ve given up on hope. And in doing so, Jesus shows us how we can find him in
the world around us. I like the fact that this episode takes place between
Jesus and two followers of Jesus whom we know nothing about, as it makes it
easier to see ourselves walking on that road to Emmaus with Jesus. We might
read this story as a counter to what we heard in church this past Sunday, of
Jesus and Thomas. Thomas says to the other disciples “I want to see Jesus
before believing.” Well, this story is giving us the key to seeing Jesus in
those moments when we, like Thomas, want to encounter the Risen Lord. And it
happens through evangelism and hospitality.
Evangelism
comes from a Greek word meaning “good news,” and I like to think of evangelism
as our stories. Evangelism is the story of our discipleship, the story of our
joys and pains. It is no accident that Jesus comes to these followers and asks
them to tell their story. He doesn’t barge in and tell them about the need to
have a personal relationship with him as their Lord and Savior. No, instead he
says “tell me about the things that have happened to you.” Our stories are
important.
But
evangelism is not just about our stories, it is also about the Good News of God
in Christ. Jesus tells them his story; he tells them of the glory of God and
shows them that hope will arise sure as the sun will. Some of you have done
this good and holy work of telling your stories and proclaiming God’s through
our listening groups, and have told me that it has been a wonderful experience
for you all.
The Risen Jesus invites us to
reexamine and reflect on the meaning of the events of our lives. The
Resurrection proclaims that redemption is always possible. We know that Good
Friday happened, but Easter has the final word. Because of the Resurrection, we
can know that there is no doubt so intense that faith can never come. No pain
so severe that there can be no relief. No loneliness so absolute that there can
be no companionship. No injustice so insidious that there can be no atonement.
No war so fierce that peace cannot break out. No brokenness so deep that there
can be no wholeness. No hatred so strong that there can be no love. No despair
so profound that there can be no hope. No sin so bad that there cannot be
forgiveness. No experience so dark that there can be no new dawn. No situation
so hopeless that there can be no new possibilities. No death so final that
there can be no resurrection. Don’t believe everything that you think.
And so
it’s getting late and the followers are nearing their homes, and as they begin
to peel off the road, they notice that the stranger appears to be continuing
on. They are aware of the dangers of traveling alone in the dark, and they have
heard the wisdom saying that “those who show hospitality to strangers may
entertain angels without being aware of it.” They invite him in for dinner and
to stay the night.
I am
reminded of the great poem Love Bade Me
Welcome by George Herbert. It tells the story of Love inviting a man into
his home. But this man, aware of his shortcomings, didn’t feel worthy to be in
the presence of the divine Love. The man says “I cannot look on thee.” But then
“Love took my hand and smiling did reply ‘who made the eyes but I?’” The poem
ends with Love inviting him yet again, “‘you must sit down… and taste my meat.’
So I did sit and eat.” This is what hospitality is all about- accepting people
where they are, loving them for who they are, honoring them for the divine love
which is in them.
And it
is through this hospitality that it becomes clear to them that, indeed, the
Lord is risen. They saw that God has more possibilities in store for us than we
can imagine. They realized that you can’t always believe everything that you
think. Jesus becomes more familiar to us when we follow his example of paying
attention to the Scriptures and breaking bread. That is what makes our
celebration today so holy, and I pray that the Risen Lord will be known to each
and every one of us.
As
many of you know, I was blessed to go to the Holy Land a few years ago, but we
never got to visit Emmaus. And the reason why we never went to Emmaus is that
we have no idea where it is. We visited one of the possible ancient villages,
but scholars really can’t tell us where Emmaus is on a map. And that’s a
wonderful metaphor for the fact that as we search for the Risen Lord in our
lives, we’re not always sure where we’re going to end up. This Emmaus road
encounter reminds us that God has new possibilities that are awaiting us.
So back to the question- “what do we
do now?” There is a wonderful painting of this event by Rembrandt. In it, one
of the followers has his hands clasped in prayerful submission as if to say
“welcome, my Lord.” The other has a look of fearful disbelief as if to say “how
did we not recognize you?” And there is a servant in the picture who is
oblivious to the fact that Jesus is in his midst. This is the range of our
responses to the Resurrection.
We can sit there in shock and not do
anything, being stuck in the past hope and wondering how we missed out on this
encounter with Jesus; we can ignore the encounter and be unaware of God’s
presence in our lives; or we can show hospitality and welcome God and others
into our lives through evangelism. Each of us will have to decide how we will
respond to the Resurrection as we journey through life.
The Risen Christ comes to us as the
one who was broken, giving us hope in the future, redeeming our hope that had
been broken in the past. He comes valuing our stories and inviting us to
participate in God’s Good News. He comes asking us to sit and taste his meat,
and is waiting to be more fully known to us. As we seek to walk with Jesus in the
Emmauses of our lives, let us pray: be known to us Lord Jesus, in the breaking
of the bread. Amen.
