First UMC Fort Dodge
April 6, 2008
Mark Haverland
Luke 24:13-35 13 Now on that same day two of them were
going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem, 14 and
talking with each other about all these things that had happened. 15 While they
were talking and discussing, Jesus himself came near and went with them, 16 but
their eyes were kept from recognizing him. 17 And he said to them, "What
are you discussing with each other while you walk along?" They stood
still, looking sad. 18 Then one of them, whose name was Cleopas, answered him, "Are
you the only stranger in
This passage
is the account of the original “walk to Emmaus.” For centuries, the “walk to Emmaus” has meant
for Christians the journey everyone takes who wants an encounter with the risen
Christ. This journey can last a
lifetime, a weekend or be over in a sudden and unexpected flash of insight. But always the experience of the post Easter
Jesus is a journey from one place to another; from darkness to light, from
confusion to understanding. Interestingly,
in the Lukan passage we read this morning Jesus vanishes once he is recognized,
so, it seems, the journey never ends. We
will be walking to Emmaus without ever getting there for as long as we have
breath.
“Walking” is
a splendid metaphor for the spiritual wholeness quest. The value of walking is deep in the human
psyche. It is no surprise that the
conversation on the road to Emmaus is the climactic telling of the post Easter
appearance of Jesus. The first
appearance is at the tomb. The second
appearance is to the disciples in the upper room, where they huddled in fear
lest anyone find them. And the third and
final appearance of Jesus after the resurrection is to these two wanderers on
the road to Emmaus – the same road we all walk in our search for Jesus. The Emmaus story tells us how God’s grace is
revealed en route as disciples walked
and talked with Jesus. Side by side,
talking and walking their way to the table where they break bread and their
eyes are open. This story has as its
likely purpose to make clear that from now on Jesus appears most vividly and
predictably in the communion bread and wine.
Only as Jesus breaks bread do the two dispirited disciples finally recognize
him.
Henry David
Thoreau, a great fan of walking, was an even more enthusiastic about sauntering. He thinks there is something holy about
walking which is captured in the word saunter.
He thinks the word saunter is derived “from the idle people who roved
about the country in the Middle Ages and asked for charity, under the pretence
of going a la Sainte Terrer, to the Holy Land.
Children eventually developed the taunt for such people, calling out,
“There goes a Saint-Terrer,” a Saunterer, a Holy Lander. Saunterers have no particular home, are
equally at home everywhere. But they
have a holy and mysterious destination. We don’t so much walk as saunter to
Emmaus.
A few weeks
ago, I asked if anyone ran to church on Easter morning. Few did, as it turned out. No surprise, I suppose. I’m not even sure if anyone walks or saunters
to church anymore, but some of you could, I am sure. We should probably walk a lot more than we
do. I have taken to walking to
work. Mostly to save gas and get some
exercise. But it is also a great way to
free the mind and spirit. I’m much more
ready to take in new material after a good walk. It is a very good thing to walk. I think it was Mark Twain who said that golf
was just a good walk spoiled. I
agree! I stopped playing golf when carts
became nearly mandatory. I liked golf
for the exercise. Hitting the ball
around was just a continual frustration, however. At my house, a dinner party often concludes
with a walk. The group perks up when
walking together after a meal: spirited and
meaningful conversation inevitably breaks out.
We commune in a healthy way while walking. It’s easier somehow to have a conversation with
someone when you go for a walk together.
This is especially true for men, by the way, since we men don’t like to
talk face to face. We prefer conversation which doesn’t require us to face off,
as it were. Something about the rhythmic
motions of walking makes conversation easier for everyone.
And, of
course, it is the conversation that provides the meaning. The walking in this mornings Bible passage merely
facilitates a conversation with a stranger.
Jesus has told us that he would appear to us most often as a stranger,
so talking to strangers is the least we can do.
I envy people who can talk to strangers.
I always learn something interesting when I strike up a conversation
with someone new. My mother was gifted
at this. She once spoke for a half hour
to someone who had called the wrong number.
I think this is testimony to her ability to get value from conversation
with just about anyone, whether she knew them or not. This ability to talk to a stranger and gain
valuable information drew the two people sauntering to Emmaus into a
conversation which changed their lives.
In his book Iberia,
James Mitchner tells of the medieval pilgrimage which ended in southern
Spain. It seems that people would walk
over nine hundred miles from Paris to the south of Spain, seeking the spiritual
renewal of a shrine to martyred saints.
The journey grouped people from all walks of life. Kings and nobility, workers and trade people,
and the poor and desperate, the halt and the lame all joined in the tedious
walk to find spiritual renewal. As they
journeyed together, they got to know each other in ways the social conventions
of the time made otherwise impossible.
After months of tedious walking, someone would begin to rise early and
walk on ahead to see if the end was in sight.
The first one to see the glory of the shrine to the martyred saints didn’t
shout “There it is!” or “I see it!” The
first one to sight the goal of all their efforts, shouted out simply “MY JOY!” The end made the journey worth the
effort. This is how First United
Methodist Church Fort Dodge feels to me know.
We are on a journey. We face the
need to change and adapt to the new realities of our community. It’s the journey all churches are on. All churches and all people are continually
walking to Emmaus. A great variety of
talents, gifts and graces are represented in the group making this journey. And even though the destination and the route
seem a bit unclear right now, one day we will leap up and shout, “My Joy!”
Much is made
of the fact that the disciples didn’t recognize Jesus on the road to Emmaus. Jesus was present with them, long before they
recognized him. I think there is a deep
and hidden truth in this tiny fact.
Jesus is often there long before we realize it. Why didn’t the disciples recognize Jesus
right off. He had been their constant
companion for years and they had already been told the tomb was empty? One woman I know explained away their
apparent blindness in a Bible study by noting:
“Well, you know, he had been through quite a lot recently.”
My choice
for an explanation of their failure to recognize Jesus is the difference between
resuscitation and resurrection. The
Easter resurrection is not resuscitation, where an almost dead person is
revived by the rescue workers. The Gospel story is not that of someone brought
back from the dead as a drowning victim is helped to breathe again with mouth
to mouth resuscitation or someone whose heart is restarted thanks to timely defibrillation. No, Jesus has received a new body. He’s changed.
His victory over death is not that he didn’t die or that the rescue
squad got there in time to restart his heart.
He is a new person. If we look
for him in the old person, if we expect to see his body as we once knew it, if
we insist on holding him to what we grew familiar with in the past, if we can’t
embrace the new and unfamiliar, if we can’t kiss the stranger in whom Christ
resides, and welcome him into our lives, we will miss the new thing God is
doing in our midst. “See, there it is,
bursting from the bulb,” the Psalmist declares.
“There is much more truth and light yet to break forth from God’s holy
word,” as John Robinson preached to the Pilgrims as they disembarked in the new
land. The old Jesus we once knew is
dead. The new Jesus is a different
person - a resurrected person, not just a resuscitated version of the guy we
once knew.
Of course we
don’t recognize this new, risen Christ.
He is not the same person. “This
is not your father’s Oldsmobile,” the ad used proclaim. Well, the Gospel of Luke tells us “This is
not your Father’s Jesus, either.”
The
disciples recognize Jesus only when Jesus breaks bread and blesses it,
re-enacting for them the last supper and teaching them that he will thus always
be available to him. This story has
direct relevance for what we do as a church and why we want to attract new
people. Why do we want people to join
with us? We don’t just want their money
and their numbers on our rolls. We want
to introduce them to Jesus. And we do
that principally through the Sunday worship service. Ever since Jesus appeared to these two
disciples on the road to Emmaus, Christian churches have held worship on
Sunday, the day Jesus left the tomb behind to begin his new life as our risen
Savior. And many churches include a
communion service each Sunday. We United
Methodists have decided to do communion just once a month but, nonetheless, our
job each Sunday is to re-enact that first Sunday when the disciples recognized
Jesus had been in their midst. Our job
as a church is to provide a worship service where people can recognize the
presence of Jesus in their lives. All
the rest we do happens is a result of this spiritual encounter on Sunday
morning.
It’s a
fascinating fact that nobody knows where the real Emmaus is. Three cities claim it, but there is no
evidence either way. Emmaus is not
mentioned in the ancient world other than in Luke. I like the fact that the story tells us we
are going to the Land of Oz, accompanied by a guide we do not recognize. And like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, the
power for a new life was there the whole time but it took a while before it was
recognized, believed, and taken advantage of.
We know that we will eventually accomplish God’s will for us. We know that God always meets us in the
stranger on the road. We should not
worry that we don’t recognize Jesus when we meet him along the way. Jesus reveals himself only in Emmaus when our
journey is through. We should not worry
that we get breathless trying to catch up to our Lord. Our God moves ahead of us and waits for us at
the end of the road. We should not
despair when the road seems rough and the signs are obscure. If we stand on our toes and look far enough
ahead, along with the rest of pilgrims who journey with us, we will see our
destination. One day we will shout with
them “What Joy!” also.
We thank you for the gift of forgiveness, the
promise of resurrection, and moments of victory in our struggles along the way.
Thank you for the joy centered in Jesus and for grateful hearts to acknowledge
you. In Jesus' name we pray.
Amen.
Caring God, knowing that Christ walks with us
on the road of life and finally through the door of our passing into heaven
makes all the difference. We bring this offering with the prayer that the
presence of the risen Christ ease those who walk this day in loneliness, hunger,
or oppression. May they be enabled to sense his compassion and his power to
uphold and renew hope.