Views from the Valley

Scripture Text: Luke 24:13-35

Luke 24:13-35

        Now on that same day two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem, and talking with each other about all these things that had happened. While they were talking and discussing, Jesus himself came near and went with them, but their eyes were kept from recognizing him. And he said to them, “What are you discussing with each other while you walk along?” They stood still, looking sad. Then one of them, whose name was Cleopas, answered him, “Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have taken place there in these days?” He asked them, “What things?” They replied, “The things about Jesus of Nazareth, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, and how our chief priests and leaders handed him over to be condemned to death and crucified him. But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel. Yes, and besides all this, it is now the third day since these things took place. Moreover, some women of our group astounded us. They were at the tomb early this morning, and when they did not find his body there they came back and told us that they had indeed seen a vision of angels who said that he was alive. Some of those who were with us went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said, but they did not see him.” Then he said to them, “Oh, how foolish you are and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have declared! Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into his glory?” Then beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them the things about himself in all the scriptures.

        As they came near the village to which they were going, he walked ahead as if he were going on. But they urged him strongly, saying, “Stay with us, because it is almost evening and the day is now nearly over.” So he went in to stay with them. When he was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. They their eyes were opened, and they recognized him, and he vanished from their sight. They said to each other, “Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?” That same hour they got up and returned to Jerusalem, and they found the eleven and their companions gathered together. They were saying, “The Lord has risen indeed, and he has appeared to Simon!” Then they told what happened on the road and how he had been made known to them in the breaking of the bread.

We friends of Jesus are walking along the road. It’s hot, dusty, and the sun is beating down on us. It’s a long walk, but we’ve made the trek before. It’s only a half-day or so, this trip from Jerusalem back to Emmaus, and our hearts are heavy and full of confusion. Our precious, treasured friend has died. We hung our hats and our hopes on him and all that we believed he would accomplish in this world.

        After all, it is a world full of conflict and struggle, one thing after another. Just when we think we’ve reached some sense of equilibrium, something new hits. It’s true for everyone we know and love. For some, the struggles seems so trivial. So they lost a lamb. So their favorite sandals have worn through. So the sun is too hot, the wind is too cold, a piece of furniture won’t budge when they try to move it. And yet, there are hopes.

        And it is a world “out there” in which restlessness abounds. There are those who rule over us for the benefit of themselves and their class. They know nothing of poverty and hunger, of daily need. Perhaps their complaint might involve too few grapes on the platter, or overcooked meat.

        And there are those dreams in us of hope, of desire, for a life lived in freedom to worship and affirm God, to be freely able to recognize the people and the concepts and the words and the music and the feelings of spirit, that bring a depth into life that can only be had through prayer. Faith in something greater than money and power and prestige and having all the knowledge and best words in the world.

        And here came this man Jesus, a simple person, really. He had such words of wisdom, such an aura of understanding. He made us think in ways we’d never thought before. We saw things happen around him that we never dreamed could happen. He spoke of a different kind of world in which love could be shared with more people than could ever be imagined. A world in which we, as a people of God, could be free to be that people, unhindered, unchallenged, and to live in radical new ways.

        It felt so good, so right. He was right there. RIGHT THERE! Right in front of our very eyes. We touched the things he touched, tasted the same bread, drank the same wine, breathed the same air. We never, ever dreamed that time would end.

        We had hoped, and we had hoped, and we had hoped.

        We who have lived in the generations following the trip on the Emmaus road are no different than the two men who hiked along with Jesus. We are people who want the world to change. We want to live in freedom to be who we want to be. We, too want those in rulership to set statutes and guidance and laws and precepts that actually benefit us; that actually have us in mind, as though a ruler, a legislator, a guide, sat down and said to us, “My friend, what is it that you would like to have as you dwell on this earth, in this territory, in this land, on this little swatch of property you have acquired?” And they would listen. And they would be wise. They would know what was best, and if they had new ideas, better ideas, they would speak with compassion and understanding and a true desire for their mind to meet our minds, and our minds to meet theirs. Decisions would be made, compromises often, but always with a sense of integrity, goodwill and a genuine concern for the benefit of all.

        Oh, if our two path-walkers could look into the future, they would see that we who followed them felt the same way, and if there were those who didn’t seem to see it, they were blind to the awareness that such a life was ultimately what they wanted. That blindness led them into a wilderness in which possessions and power became substitutes for the true peace within that comes from trusting God and the wisdom of greater things, of spirit, of realms of love and power and community that are lasting and unchanging.

        For all of us through history, they would have had compassion. They would understand the hopes that were raised and dashed, raised and dashed, throughout all time. They, too, would have and seen and felt and likewise expressed their disappointment at the times when events didn’t go the way they wanted them to. “We had hoped”.

        We who have lived, and still lived, in those same kinds of times, have raised up leaders. We’ve searched, we’ve nominated, we’ve campaigned, we’ve chosen, we’ve appointed, we’ve assigned. We’ve been curious. We’ve listened, discerned, sorted, analyzed, and felt. Trusted our guts. Checked our lists. We’ve moved, we’ve voted, and we’ve hired. And we’ve hoped.

        And yet, we still wait.

        Cleopas and his companion, there on the road, in their disappointment, walked along, debating and arguing. Why were they leaving Jerusalem, headed for Emmaus, after having heard that Jesus, the one who’d offered to them such hope, and then had been crucified on a cross, had been seen alive again? This discussion had to have been lively. Perhaps there was an argument. Perhaps one affirming, the other denying, then the denier affirming, and the affirmer denying. Going back to Emmaus because, well, what else was there to do?

        And here came a man along the road who wondered what they were talking about. He had to be kidding. He didn’t know what had happened? Surely anyone who had eyes and ears and any sense in their heads knew what was going on!

        “But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel.”

        I wonder how often travelers along the roads in those days actually stopped to converse. I wouldn’t be surprised if it happened often, because imagine the quiet, lonely walk all those miles. For heaven’s sake, why not have a good conversation with a passer-by? What else was there to do?

        But oh, then this “stranger” opened up to them and told them more information than they dreamed they could ever know about this Jesus, his life, the Scriptures and the words of the prophets that they’d been taught and absorbed throughout their faithful lives. How he put those things together, like a puzzle, this stranger! How did he know all these things, this stranger? How could someone they didn’t know have so much information about the man they’d spent months with? How amazing, this stranger! They drank in the words, gulp by gulp. Time passed. Hadn’t they just left Jerusalem? Now here were the landmarks indicating that Emmaus was only but a mile down the road!

        There was no way they were going to allow this man to move on without him supping with them. Surely he was hungry. There was so much more to know, and there was a familiar feeling they had with him, one of desire, and fascination, satisfaction and yet a desire to learn more. So having supper was the next, most natural step. Close in their minds were recent memories of many suppers, many moments of learning and prayer with their friends and their teacher. So it would only be natural for them to eat with this quite surprising new guest.

        As suppers go, they brought out the usual fare, including the bread, a natural part of a meal to share with friends. But instead of Cleopas and his companion, as hosts, taking that bread and offering it to their guest, the guest took it, and he blessed it, and he broke it, and he gave it to them. A familiar action. One that had been done time and time again in recent months: with one final time occurring during a meal which led to deep and painful disappointment and tragedy.

        Perhaps it was that familiarity of routine that opened the eyes of Cleopas and his companion. That sudden placement of the necessary piece of the puzzle. The scales being pulled away from the eyes. The vision clearing. The aha moment hitting. This man, who was seated at their table, giving them bread, was the risen Jesus! The man they’d just been talking and debating and agonizing about! How did they not see it before? How could they have been so blind? And now he was gone.

        But they did not ruminate for long. They recognized that something unusual had happened, and it wasn’t the fault of their ignorance or unwillingness to see or know Jesus. Somehow, that inability to recognize him had happened for a purpose: for them to realize the miraculous nature of the existence of this man who had allegedly died. They had experienced a miracle, too, in their own way. One of many ways in which Jesus chose to show himself to the people he loved so much.

        And what a way for it to happen!

        When people meet and recognize Jesus in their lives, there are many ways in which it can happen. We hear of many experiencing remarkable moments in worship settings. Some churches, in their style of worship, put a great emphasis on creating just the right amount of atmosphere, placing  a song in just the right spot, uttering a statement, a word; eliciting a mood. Some preachers use dynamics of speech to persuade, practicing for the pauses, the climax points, the emphasis, the shouts, the whispers, the smiles, the righteous anger. The solemnity. The excitement of Holy Spirit power, perhaps, waiting for a special word. The placement of the prayers.

        All designed as invitations, magnets and tugs on the soul. Maybe now, in this moment, this right word, song sung just the right way, people will recognize Jesus.

        And there are those who teach, as Jesus did, by reporting the story of his life to Cleopas and his companion, summarizing the dynamic, epic, historic tale of Israel and the powerful words of the prophets, piecing together the parts of the puzzle so that they made amazing sense. Ways people can recognize Jesus.

        And there are those who pray, meditate, beg, ask, query, study, wait. Retreats. Lessons. Analogies. Silence. Stones, art, nature, birds, twigs, fountains, water, plants, labyrinths, candles, flames. Here, too, Jesus can be recognized.

        Interestingly enough, the Emmaus travelers heard the historical, scriptural interpretation of the prophets, but they still didn’t recognize Jesus.

        But the way they did recognize him was through the simple breaking of the bread. The sharing of the meal. A time of fellowship, one that occurs daily, more than once, alone and among people. A time of nourishment of the body, a time of living in one’s full humanity, not doing anything that could particularly be labeled “spiritual” in the way we often speak of it.

        They had already had their share of lessons, studies, sermons and retreats, not without surely some music, maybe some dynamic pauses and motions for emphasis, interspersed with the astounding moments of connection that led to broken bones being healed, lepers cured and sight being given to the blind. Not to mention transforming water into wine.

        And yes, they had a meal with broken bread and shared cup, the final time after which Jesus made his way, willingly, to the cross. Not a very pleasant memory. Yet now, in this receiving of this bread with him as he sat before them in this newly-resurrected form, the act of eating with Jesus, once final, had now been redeemed.

        Just as Jesus’ entire life, death and resurrection had taken the most mundane elements and acts of our lives and fellowship and redeemed those, too. He made them into moments of revelation and recognition. Places in which his presence could be known, and not necessarily in the classic sense.

        Who really needs a church sanctuary or special retreat as a way of encountering Jesus? How many converts did Jesus make in the Temple? We really don’t know, except that many of those who were responsible for Temple activity ran the other way.

        It was in the average streets and at the dinner tables of life that Jesus met people and was recognized.

        And it is in the average streets, hallways, offices, sidewalks, buses, living rooms, and at sporting events and dinner tables that we just might happen to find Jesus waiting…and not recognize him. Have you ever met a person whose words and actions had a lasting impact on you? What might Jesus have had to say to you through them?

        Let’s also remember this. It is isn’t just in experiences created by others for us that we meet Jesus. It’s good to keep our eyes open for that, indeed. But we also have the privilege of creating experiences for others, of being the leader, the caregiver, the bread-server, the conversant along the road. As we will see in coming stories following the resurrection of Jesus, Jesus revealed his physical presence to the disciples, but he also left this earth in a very usual way. He did not stay here. He left us with his Spirit, whom we call the Holy Spirit. The Spirit came to dwell inside us and be present among us to continue the work Jesus called us to do. The Spirit came to us to be Jesus’ presence in the world, to interpret to the world what we know about him. He is IN US.

        And thus, in the mundane, or fancy, or highly ritualistic, or simple daily actions and words as we encounter people here, there and everywhere, we represent the presence of Jesus to others. Our job is to break bread, live, move, speak work, and BE with that in mind. To pray in our hearts that what we do be done in the spirit of Jesus.

        And it is through this that others will recognize him, too.

        So where do you go to meet Jesus? Where do you think Jesus can be most easily found? Is there such a place? And if you meet him, will you recognize him? What thing will he do that opens your eyes?

        The best way to know is simply to be open. To say aloud, or in your heart, “Show me who you are. Help me to recognize you.” Then wait to be surprised. Don’t sit waiting to get hit over the head with a baseball bat. Let him surprise you. One little reminder that makes you grin and say, “Oh, THAT was Jesus!”

        And as you live and do what you do, also ask God to show you how you can be and ARE Jesus to others. It might be a big accomplishment, it might be small. Even just a smile at someone who looks like they’re having a bad day can make all the difference in the world to someone.

        How wonderful that our God, our loving savior, Jesus, wants to walk with us, and show us who he is! How blessed are we! Let us remind ourselves of this every day. I’d love to know if, in the next few days, a thought will pop into your head: “Where did I recognize Jesus today?” and another one will say, “Where did Jesus show himself in me?”

        I’ll bet it will happen. I hope not just once, but many times, and may it become something you recognize often as you go through your life. Feel free to share those moments. I’d love to hear some unusual ones. I’ll be waiting, listening, and praying, and I know I will recognize Jesus in you, too! Amen.