Imagine a news
report that informs the world that Jesus has returned to us--where would you
look for him? Among the aisles of a Christian bookstore? In the pulpit of one
of our churches? In the extra seat at Sunday School? At a Gaither Homecoming
Concert?
As Luke continues
the Easter story, he tells us that on that very first Easter day the risen
Christ could not be found in a temple or Synagogue. He was not at the city gate
debating issues of faith with the religious thinkers of the day. No, he was out
walking on a busily traveled road, between
Jerusalem
and Emmaus. Out walking with two of his disciples who did not recognize him.
Though they had heard the reports, the women’s testimony about angels and an
empty tomb. Still, they did not see what should have been so familiar to them.
It could be
argued that it should have been a familiar thing to encounter Jesus out here, on
the road, in the journey as well. After all, isn’t that where most of his
followers had first encountered him? In the busy journey of life? Along a lake
shore? Up in a tree? In a cemetery, by a well. On the road to
Jericho? Those he had
healed--those he had called--those he had given new life? Michael Slaughter of
Ginghamsburg church wisely notices that Jesus “had a market-place theology. He
met people where they lived. He walked where they walked.”
Now, as they
journey home, he comes to walk with them once more.
Rene’ Rodgers
Jensen says it nicely. “Oh, sure, they had heard (as we have heard) some
garbled reports about angels and an empty tomb, but they could hardly make sense
about such nonsense. So they headed home. They figure it’s all over. Jesus, the
one that they had thought just might be the Promised One, is dead. Worse than
dead, he had been crucified. And all his followers might be in jeopardy. The
smart thing to do is to get out of town, lay low for a little while, until the
Romans forget about Jesus and hopefully, about Jesus’ followers.” So they go
home.
Is it any wonder,
as they journey home, their foot-steps plodding in the dust of the Emmaus road,
that the risen Christ comes to meet them there?
“What are you
talking about?” he asks them. They cannot believe there is a single soul who
had not heard about the terrible trial and death of the popular rabbi from
Nazareth. But
we had hoped, they told him, we had hoped that he was the one to redeem
Israel.”
Had hoped. Hear it? Past tense? We had hoped.
But those hopes
have apparently been dashed.
You ever had your
hopes dashed?
“I hope she’ll
notice me.”
“I hope we can
beat this...”
“I hope you will
come home.”
“I hope he’ll
quit.”
“I hope that’s
not true.”
“I hope it is
true.”
“I hope...”
Hope is a
powerful thing. It can keep us moving. It can motivate us to look when we
don’t want to. It can drive us to consider the future, and our own ability to
overcome against intimidating odds.
But hope lost can
be devastating.
We had
hoped....they had said. They go on to tell him that some women of the group had
found the tomb empty, had even seen angels, but that in the end, no one had seen
him. No one had seen Jesus. We had hoped.....”
The stranger on
the road begins then to preach a sermon, do a bit of a Bible study as they
walked along. Luke says that Jesus interpreted to them the Scriptures
concerning himself. Still no sign of recognition.
But it was late,
and as they arrived in the village where they lived, they implore the stranger
to come home with them for a bite to eat and a roof for the night. No Motel 6’s
back then and strangers could only hope for such hospitality as they travel.
Jesus indeed goes
home with them. And a most remarkable thing happens..
Just as he had
done the night he last had eaten with some of his disciples, Jesus reverses
the roles. Then, as host, he had taken on the role of servant, washing their
feet. Tonight, as invited guest, he assumes the role of host.
It is Jesus who
takes the bread. Was their something familiar about the way he reached for it,
and held it? It is Jesus who blesses it. Was there something familiar about
the blessing, the intimate way he addressed God and invoked God’s grace? It was
Jesus who breaks it. Yes, there is something familiar about the way he pulls
the bread apart and offers it to them.. Ah!
It is Jesus who
touches them as he hands them the bread. And they know it. Luke says their
eyes were opened.
We are reminded
by the author of Hebrews in the Bible that “faith is the assurance of things
hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.”
They had
hoped...that he would redeem
Israel.
But in an
instant, they catch sight of oh so much more than they had even hoped for. A
risen Lord. One the chains of death could not hold down.
Their eyes are
opened and they see him, revealed in the breaking of the bread.
And immediately
it all begins to make sense. Though the risen Christ is gone almost as quickly
as he had come to be seen, they realize. “Weren’t we “on fire” as we listened
to him opening the Scriptures to us?”
Indeed, Jesus had
revealed himself to them, first by reminding them of the story, opening the
Scriptures to them, and finally, in the breaking and sharing of the bread.
It’s the same
with us, you know. There is something strangely familiar as we open and discuss
the Sacred Story--there is something strangely familiar, as we break the bread
and offer the cup. There is something strangely familiar--as we are united once
again with the Lord of Life who loves us, and desires for us, more than we could
ever hope for.
That is why
worship is so important, the practicing of our faith—together, until it becomes
familiar to us. Sure, one can worship God anywhere, by oneself—on the golf
course, on the lake, driving the countryside in a pickup—the I have to wonder if
such isolated, singular worship causes one to “lose sight” of the familiar? The
opening of the Scriptures where others are gathered. The breaking of the
bread. The sharing of the cup. These familiar practices are the very ones that
enable us to “see” Christ in our midst. To know that Christ walks alongside us
on the journey of our lives!
The table is
set. Jesus, the risen Lord is our host. It is familiar. It is the way we are
eyes and our hearts are opened. Let us prepare to return to the table of our
Lord.
