Luke 24:13-35
Something we often say to one another now is that every day feels the same. We forget what day it is, even what time it is, because we have abandoned our normal routines. It happens in my house, too – although I need to be extra careful to remember when Sunday comes around. Other than that, it’s easy to forget what day it is. Time is almost meaningless.
So, maybe it won’t surprise anyone when I point out that, in the biblical texts for this Easter season, it has been the same day for three weeks. Really. From the perspective of our reading for today, it was only this morning that Mary found the tomb empty. And they still don’t really know what’s going on.
Now, on that same day, we have two of these disciples – one named Cleopas and the other unnamed – who are walking a seven-mile journey to a village called Emmaus. As far as I can see, no one knows anything about this place called Emmaus. People have proposed that it is a place about seven miles northwest of the city of Jerusalem, known as el-Khubeibeh. Others have suggested it is a place about eight miles southwest of Jerusalem, known as Khurbet Khamasa. Just to name a couple of theories. Clearly, we have no idea about the place called Emmaus. But that’s okay, because the destination is unimportant. What matters is the journey.
Cleopas and the other disciple are walking toward Emmaus for reasons that are not mentioned. Perhaps there is something in Emmaus that matters to them. Perhaps there is something in Jerusalem they want to get away from. Perhaps they only need to walk. It doesn’t really matter why they left Jerusalem, or why they are headed toward Emmaus. What matters is the journey.
Sometimes, you just have to journey.
Bear in mind that things had been pretty chaotic in Jerusalem for the disciples of Jesus. He was arrested, then everything fell apart. The disciples scattered. Confusion and fear reigned.
And on this day, the third day, from the moment early in the morning when they found the tomb empty, it has been the peak of craziness. They are afraid. They are grieving. And they are suddenly without direction or purpose. They frantically want to know what is going on.
But they don’t know yet. As these two disciples are walking along they are talking it all through – rehashing everything, the way we do. Repeating things over and over, sharing their reactions, their confusion, their theories. It’s both an important emotional and intellectual process they are engaged in. But they still don’t know what is going on, and they won’t figure it out this way.
They say to the stranger who approaches them, “We had hoped that he was the one.” As far as they can see now, that hope is lost.
And I guess there’s no reason why they should think otherwise. Because they have seen the evidence of his death. So far, they have seen no evidence that he is alive.
We all need some kind of evidence. You know, the disciple Thomas often gets disparaged because that evening he was late getting to the upper room. And all the disciples were like, “Ah, Thomas, you just missed him! Jesus was here. Showed us his wounds and everything. It was awesome.” Thomas felt cheated. And disbelieving. He needed some kind of evidence too.
It isn’t enough for someone to tell you, “Jesus is alive.” It isn’t enough for someone to tell you, “Jesus is Lord.” We need other ways of knowing.
And sometimes we seem to forget that. We get all judgmental about Thomas, who doesn’t believe. We get sort of judgmental about the men who refuse to believe the women when they say, “I have seen the Lord,” and we are sort of amused and perplexed by these two disciples on the road to Emmaus who just don’t get it.
In the Thomas story, we feel entitled to judge him because of the way Jesus seems to judge him – in a subtle way. “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe.” The presumption is that very few will actually have the opportunity to see the risen Christ. But there is a need to believe anyway – without seeing.
And some will say this is what faith is all about. The writer of the book of Hebrews says, “Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” Still, we need some reason for believing.
Others will say it is all about listening and hearing. Paul writes in his letter to the Romans that faith comes from what is heard. Indeed, the gospel has been shared and has taken root all over the world by word of mouth. By one person telling other people the good news of Jesus Christ. Truly, hearing the word is essential. But we hear a lot of things we don’t believe. Just because we hear it doesn’t mean we know it. What makes this different?
National Public Radio used to have a weekly feature called This I Believe, where anyone could share their core beliefs that guide their lives. What you would hear again and again from all kinds of people, were the things they believe, the things they know to be true, because they have experienced it. The things we believe, the things we really, truly know, are the things we know deep in our bones because we have experienced them.
It takes real lived experience to really know something.
When Thomas was invited to touch the wounds. When Mary heard him say her name. These were the moments when they knew.
And for these two disciples on the road to Emmaus? There was a special moment when they, too, knew.
They discussed all these things all through that long walk; they listened to the stranger who joined up with them and pointed out to them things they had not considered – things that were in the scriptures they all knew, but were now invited to know in a new way.
The time flew past as they walked and talked. And when they arrived at Emmaus, they weren’t yet finished. The two disciples invited the stranger to join them for supper. And they sat down at table together. The stranger took the bread. he blessed it and broke it. And then they knew.
In the breaking and the blessing, the taking and the sharing, they knew.
Perhaps, as he took, blessed, broke, and gave the bread – they suddenly remembered another day when, surrounded by thousands of people, with nothing but a few loaves and some fish, Jesus did the same thing. He took, blessed, broke, and gave the bread.
Something that became the pattern of a life-changing, community-defining ritual. Still today we gather around the table and do the same: take and bless, break and give, in his name. It is something that feeds our bodies and souls, it triggers our memories and opens our hearts. It is the way that he has promised to be with us.
And we can be assured that he is with us whenever and wherever we share bread in his name. Whether it be at our table in this sanctuary or the tables in our kitchens. At the tables in our fellowship hall or the tables at the local soup kitchen. At the tables in the Langeler Building when we host the homeless shelter or the table that was set up in our parking lot to provide bag lunches to hungry children. At the tables where backpacks are filled with food for kids to take home for the weekend, so there will be enough to eat – wherever we take and bless, break and share bread in Christ’s name he is there too.
And this is one of those moments when you know.
Because the truth is, just seeing is not enough. Just hearing is not enough. It takes something more, and that is real experience – experience that involves our senses and also our hearts.
You know he is alive when you receive his love through others who know him and love him. You show others he is alive when you share his love with them. We share his love by sharing our bread, and our shelter, and our care. When we give of ourselves to others, out of our love for Jesus, then we share the good news with them. and when they receive these gifts of the heart, then
That is the moment they too may know. Christ is alive.
And at that moment, you know that this is what life is all about: it’s about the giving and the receiving – of food and drink, of our stories, of shelter and comfort, of a healing touch. and this, of course, is the journey.
Photo: By Tahsin Shah – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=87568953
