Emmaus Journeys; Or There and Back Again
I wrote this for a talk I gave at Renovatus, Eagle Rock, California, January 20, 2012
Have you ever been on a terrible trip?
One you didn’t want to have to make? Or one that you thought you wanted to go
on but ended up awful? Maybe you had to attend an event that you weren’t so
excited about attending, or maybe you had mixed feelings because someone you
weren’t very happy about traveling with a specific person?
I’ve been on many journeys in my life,
but I haven’t really had a terrible trip. I’ve had some travel mishaps—such as
getting stuck in New York City because of a freak storm and getting hopelessly
lost in Siena, Italy, with my family. But I can’t recall a really terrible
trip.
But tonight we’re going to talk about a
trip that started off terribly. If you want to read along, the story is found
in Luke 24, starting with verse 13.
“And behold, two of them were going that very day to a village named Emmaus, which was about seven miles from Jerusalem. And they were talking with each other about all these things which had taken place. While they were talking and discussing, Jesus Himself approached and began traveling with them. But their eyes were prevented from recognizing Him.”
Many of us are familiar with this story, but maybe we haven’t talked about it for a while. So let’s get the background on this story. When the writer says, “that very day,” what day is he talking about? Right. “That very day” means the day of the empty tomb, Easter Sunday. Jesus died on Friday and was quickly put into Joseph’s tomb. By the time our story takes place, Easter morning has already happened. So our characters are excited, right? They’re running home to tell their friends and families that Jesus is alive, right? No? Why not? Because, unfortunately, the Easter story has just managed to confuse them even more.
So that’s how our story starts out. Two
of Jesus’ disciples, not the “famous” ones, just some people, were going to the
village of Emmaus, about seven or eight miles from Jerusalem. Interestingly,
this story is the only place in the Bible that mentions the town of Emmaus.
Today, if you visit the Holy Land, you will find that there are at least three
towns that claim to be this historical place. So we don’t actually know where
it was. What we do know is that this is a story that we can learn a lot from.
So these two were walking and talking and thinking and musing and mourning and trying to figure stuff out. One of the disciples was named Cleopas, and we don’t even know the other person’s name. Some scholars have speculated that the other person was Cleopas’ wife, or maybe that the companion was Luke himself. In any case, what makes this story pretty great is that it starts out quite ordinary. A couple of people that we don’t know a whole lot about have suffered a tragedy and are talking together. They’re not celebrities, there’s no dramatic music on the soundtrack, there’s no wind machine blowing. It’s just a pair of companions walking along.
I’ve been reading – very slowly because
I’m supposed to be reading other things – the autobiography of famed French
chef Jacques Pepin. Chef Pepin had spent much of his adult life cooking in the
finest restaurants in France. He also served as the head chef to many important
dignitaries, including Charles De Gaulle. In the book, the chef tells of leaving
France and coming to live in America. He befriends the adult sons of his boss,
and one day they invite him to spend the day at the beach. At around midday,
his hosts pulled out the sandwiches that they had made and at them – standing
up! Having made his living in some of the best restaurants in France, Jacques
declined the offer of a sandwich, not wanting to spoil his lunch. He spent the
next several very hungry hours regretting the fact that he hadn’t realized that
the sandwiches *were* lunch.
Back to our story. So Jesus shows up,
just starts walking along next to these guys—let’s call them guys, even though
one of them might have been a woman—and doesn’t say anything for a while. If
you think about it, what Jesus did right here was pretty extraordinary, because
he knew the whole story. Jesus could have jumped right into that conversation.
He could have said, “Wait, didn’t you guys listen to the women’s story this
morning? And on top of that, didn’t you even listen to ME?” But Jesus doesn’t
do that. Jesus walks beside the disciples and listens.
Isn’t this a great example for all of
us? Sometimes we are called to be companions. Not scolders, not fixers, not
know-it-alls. Just companions who listen and walk beside those on our
collective journey. It’s something to think about.
“While they were talking and discussing, Jesus Himself approached and began traveling with them. But their eyes were prevented from recognizing Him.”
I’ll have to admit that this part of the story kind-of confuses me. Because the Bible doesn’t say, “They didn’t recognize him.” Instead, it says, “Their eyes were prevented from recognizing him.” Am I the only one who thinks this is a strange choice of words? This lack of recognition is not unique to the Emmaus story. When Mary met Jesus at the tomb, she did not recognize him either. And neither did the disciples who were fishing when they saw Jesus on the beach.
What
about you? Would you recognize the face of the risen Lord if he showed up at
your job next week? What if he came and sat next to you at Renovatus? What if
he was at the freeway off ramp when you were driving to the mall or interrupted
your dinner by knocking at your door and asking to do some yardwork? Would you
recognize him? Would I?
So then I started wondering, what
exactly was preventing these disciples from recognizing who Jesus was? Was it
the sheer grief of their loss? Was it because they weren’t expecting to see
Jesus, considering that he had died two days earlier? Was it because they were
expecting a different sort of savior than the one they got? Was it because
although they were disciples, they really didn’t know Jesus all that well?
Perhaps it was some combination of all of these. It’s hard to know.
But here’s an even harder question. What
is it that keeps us from recognizing Christ in our lives? Grief? Loneliness?
Laziness? Busy-ness? Facebook? Is it because we haven’t bothered to get to know
who Christ is?
Once upon a time there was a little boy
who decided to go look for God. He packed a lunch, was sure to wear a jacket,
and kissed his mother good-bye. “I’m going to look for God,” he told her and
was on his way. Because he was just a little boy, he got as far as the neighborhood
park before he got tired and hungry. He sat down to rest on a bench next to an
elderly woman. He offered her a Twinkie. She offered him a huge smile. After
about an hour, the boy waved good-bye to the old woman and said he was going
home.When the boy got home he announced to his mother, “I met God today, and
she has the most wonderful smile!” At the same moment that the boy was saying
this, the elderly lady was at her own home, saying to her son, “I met God
today, and he is much younger than I’d imagine!”
Can we recognize God in those around us?
Sometimes God is easy to recognize, such as in the person who stops to change
your flat tire on the freeway or your parent who makes you dinner or the
stranger who offers you a Twinkie. But what if God is in your incompetent boss
or that friend who needs just a little too much attention or the person who
always wants to talk to you on the elevator. What is keeping you—and me—from recognizing
God?
And after the story, Jesus connects it
to the teachings from the Old Testament prophets. This is actually how Biblical
rabbis taught (and possible still teach today). They started with the teachings
of the prophets and then put a new spin on them, making connections between the
listeners’ lives and what they knew from the scriptures. So that’s exactly what
Jesus did. It was a method of teaching that the disciples would have been very
familiar with and could easily understand. And as they walked along, Cleopas
and his friend began to understand what had previously been so confusing. And
they started to feel better, because they were finally putting all of the
puzzle pieces together.
But what I want to focus on is why the
disciples, after everything that had just happened, finally recognized Jesus
when he broke the bread. It was because as Jesus broke the bread, they looked
at his hands and saw the nail prints in his hands. Cleopas and his companion
needed to see the nail prints to know who Jesus was. Do you remember someone
else who needed to see the nail prints? Sometimes we give the apostle Thomas a
hard time, because he needed physical proof of Jesus’ resurrection. But these
disciples, although they did not declare publicly that they required proof,
obviously needed to see those nail prints as well. So I think we should give
Thomas and the other disciples a break. I’m not sure that we wouldn’t require
the same.
But when they did recognize him, it was one of those, *sigh*, why didn’t we know this earlier? Obviously! “Didn’t our hearts burn when we were on the road?” I love that phrasing. They knew because their hearts were burning with the joy of knowing who Jesus was. Their hearts recognized Jesus long before their minds did.
But once they did recognize Jesus with
their minds, what did these disciples do? They had to tell someone. Imagine the
difference between the walk to Emmaus and the walk – probably a run - *from*
Emmaus. In that split second, their sorrow turned into joy, and the seven or
eight miles to Jerusalem were no distance at all. Because when you recognize
Christ Jesus in your life, you can’t help but tell people about him.
Sometimes we feel as if we *have to *
witness or that we *should* be sharing Christ with people we know. And we
should. And if you’re not great at witnessing, I’m all for pushing your comfort
boundaries when it comes to talking about Christ. But for the most part, we
should be telling people about Jesus’ influence in our lives not out of
obligation but because it’s the only thing we can do. When we truly recognize
Christ and his presence in both the extraordinary *and* the ordinary, what once
felt like an obligation becomes something that is a part of who we are and who
we have to be.
Have you ever been around one of your
friends when he or she falls in love with someone? And all you hear about is
how great this person is or what they did together or what they talked about?
They post a million pictures on Facebook and suddenly the minutest things are brilliant?
And why is your friend doing this? Because he or she is thinking, “Wow, I should
talk about my boyfriend to everyone, because it’s the right thing to do.” Or, “I
should tell my friends about my girlfriend, because that’s what people in love
do.” Or, “Wow, I would really be letting the love of my life down if I didn’t
tell people about him.” Right? Of course not. Your friend is sharing all of
this with you because he or she can’t help it! The love inside is too much to
keep to himself.
So instead of *working really hard* to
become a good witness for Christ, maybe our goal should be to learn how to
recognize Jesus in our everyday lives. And then the sharing part will come
naturally, because we won’t be able not to!
I challenge you this week and for the
rest of this year to try to find ways to recognize the presence of God in your
lives. And then tell someone about it. Tell someone here at Renovatus or post
it on our Renovatus Facebook page or email it to a friend. I want this place to
be buzzing with the excitement of all of the stories we have to tell. I can’t
wait to hear them.
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