Sunday, April 26, 2020 – The 7th Sunday of remote worship.
Luke 24: 13-35
I used to do a pub bible study on Monday nights for a number years at Colby College,
it was one of my many unsuccessful initiatives.
The secret of college chaplaincy is that we really have no idea what we’re doing.
because the population is ever changing.
So we try stuff,
and it usually doesn’t work,
and we adjust and try again.
I persisted with pub bible study for longer than I probably should have,
because the 1-2 people who did come were invariably nice to be around.
And because I once – right after Easter –
got to read and study the Emmaus Road story,
with someone who was reading it for the very first time.
I know I say this most weeks,
but this is one of my very favorite stories out there,
and to read it with an adult,
who’s taking faith and scripture seriously,
is a really special thing.
This is one of those stories, I think,
that the more we sit with it,
the more it opens up.
so much richness here,
and so many questions,
not the least of which: Why couldn’t they recognize him at the start?
And where did he go at the end?
But we’ll keep it simple today, and note just three features here,
that mean a lot to me:
First is that phrase,
those three words,
dripping with grief and honesty:
“we had hoped…”
We had hoped he would be the one to redeem Israel.
We had hoped he would be our king.
We had hoped he would solve our poverty.
We had hoped he would chase away our oppressors.
We had hoped to come back from Spring Break to a normal term.
We had hoped we would keep building in the same ways,
we had hoped for a warm and connected senior spring,
we had hoped to gather our friends,
and teachers, and family all together,
on a beautiful spring day and celebrate,
all we’ve accomplished this year,
these four years,
these 180 years.
we had hoped this thing would be contained by now,
we had hoped that kindness and civility would lead us through the crisis.
we had hoped.
Right on the nose, right?
and we note, as ever,
that ours is not the God of wish fulfillment,
not the God that always makes us feel better,
but the God that walks with us,
right through the midst and muck,
of all life has to offer us.
And it has a lot of challenges to offer these days.
His disciples didn’t get all they hoped.
and we haven’t,
and we won’t.
But we do get Jesus and all that comes with him.
“We had hoped,”
is a real prayer,
a real feeling,
and we can sit with it. And offer it up.
The second thing I notice about this text,
is just how much space there is here.
We don’t know why the disciples are on the road,
or even one of their names.
We don’t know why they can’t recognize Jesus,
or where we goes at the end,
It’s a text written,
for us to see ourselves,
right there.
Maybe they’re just off for a long walk, for the purpose of clearing their heads.
Maybe it’s the road back to their home town,
heads hung in shame and resignation.
after this failed mission they were on.
Maybe they’re off to the next big thing..
Maybe it’s the road you don’t want to be on,
but life’s circumstances have brought you there –
to a new home, a new town, a new start.
Maybe it’s the road to recovery.
The road to acceptance.
Maybe they’re so ‘in their feelings’
so deep in grief,
that they can’t see him.
Maybe he looks different,
after 3 days of death has taken its toll.
Maybe Jesus was masking himself.
Maybe he looks like a down-on-his-luck vagrant,
that they’re suspicious of.
Maybe he looks like a distressed colleague,
in need of a word of comfort.
Maybe he looks like a physician or nurse or hospital chaplain.
Maybe he looks sick.
And we can’t see him for who he is yet.
And we get this incredible moment of honesty from Jesus,
“You foolish people!
I’ve been with you this whole time,
and You don’t get it yet!”
But then he walks with them,
and he stays over even longer than he intended.
And he talks scripture with them.
And he shares a sacred meal with them.
and they finally get it.
All the strange and unexpected people who have opened my eyes to grace,
over the years,
leave me feeling more and more confident
that Jesus is coming to us all the time,
and we’re so absorbed in our work,
so distracted,
so in our feelings that we miss him.
But we too have a community of friends,
and we too have sacred text to read and wonder and ponder with,
and we too have a sacred meal,
meant, of course, to imbue all our walking,
our eating, and our working with sacredness.
All meant to remind us,
who we are,
and who God is.
And remember,
that this is an Easter story.
This is the Easter Story in the Gospel of Luke,
which suggests,
that the point here isn’t that Jesus was resurrected once and for all.
in some singular act of defeat of death.
But rather that he continues to be the living Christ.
For Cleopas and Company on the road to Emmaus.
For Mary, and Mary and Joanna,
and for us,
here and now.
And finally we note –
that the state of being,
the final outcome for these disciples.
Who are called to be
the witnesses to this resurrection hope,
we see in verse 41:
after he meets them on the road.
after he comes back to all of them,
and shows him his hands and feet,
after he says – as always – “peace be with you.”
“While in their joy they were disbelieving and still wondering.”
Joyful and disbelieving and wondering.
These are the original witnesses,
meant to share the good news,
about repentance and forgiveness and grace and hope,
to all the nations.
And at the end of it all,
the first witnesses to resurrection.
are joyful and still disbelieving and still wondering.
That’s all it takes, it would seem.
A pulse,
and a willingness to walk the road.
A little bit of joy, a little bit of wonder,
and even a little bit of disbelief mixed in.
Which to me, suggests, as ever,
that doubts and questions are deeply important to the life of faith.
if you don’t have questions about this resurrection thing –
as is often said – you’re probably not taking it seriously.
But in those questions,
right there with the disciples,
is honest faith,
and the call to witness with our lives,
to Christ with us,
to God who loves us,
to justice which challenges,
and grace that holds us all the while.
There is life amidst the grief,
and there is disbelieving amidst the joy,
there is faith amidst the questions
and there is space for you, on the road.
which is rife with friends,
and texts to study,
and sacred meals to eat, 3x a day,
and Jesus coming to us, ever,
still surprising us, still opening our eyes,
still making our hearts burn within us.
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