Jesus Meets Us On the Road

Transcripts are computer-generated and may not be 100% accurate.

Debbie: Well, good morning, friends. It is good to see everyone today on this sunny but chilly, chilly Sunday. Gosh, two days ago I was in a sleeveless shirt and shorts walking through the peace gardens with my little Millie. Hey, who here are walkers? Don't be shy. Who's walking is your thing? Because it is my thing. Walking is that space for me that I can connect with God. Sometimes it's because I'm feeling like happy and celebrating and you might see this kind of crazy, very uncool grandma singing to Pink Pony Club as I walk around. Like hearing it's true. It's kind of creepy but true. You might see me walking in intense thought or sometimes I'm listening to the daily or the news and you might hear me mumbling some words that I can't say out loud right here. You might see me walking and I might be in tears.

But for me, that is a space that's always been like good for my soul, whether I'm walking through hard stuff or joyful stuff, but walking is my thing. I want you all to imagine that you're walking home, not just any walk, but one of those walks where your mind can't stop replaying, all that's happened, the conversation that you wish had gone differently, the loss that you didn't see coming, the hope you had, the thing that didn't turn out the way that you were sure was going to turn out like.

Well that's where our text begins today. We are going to be walking the road to Emmaus through the gospel of Luke. Christ has been crucified and after three days he rose from the dead and here we are in Luke 24:13-35. It's a bit of a story but be in it because it's really a beautiful, rich, rich story.

Now on that same day, the day that Christ had risen, two of them were walking to a village called Emmaus about seven miles from Jerusalem and they're talking with each other about all the things that had happened. And while they were talking and discussing, Jesus himself came near them and he went with them, but their eyes were kept from recognizing them.

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, he answered, "Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have taken place in these days?" He asked them “What things?”

And 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 what we had hoped that he was, was the one to redeem Israel. Yes, and besides all this, it's now the third day since these things took place and 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, ‘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. Is 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 and 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's almost evening and the day is now nearly over. So he went in to stay with them and when he was at the table with them, he took bread, he blessed it, he broke it, and he gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened and they recognized him. Then he vanished from their sight.

They said to each other, "We're not our hearts burning within us while we were talking, while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us." That same hour, they got up and they returned to Jerusalem and they found the 11 and their companions gathered together and they were saying, "The Lord has risen indeed." And he appeared to Simon. Then they told what had happened on the road and how he had been made known to them in the breaking of the bread.

There is so much in that text. I think Justin and I have talked about sometimes when you get this rich, beautiful text, it's hard to know where do you go with it. But I go with where the Spirit goes and we've got two disciples that are on their way back home to amass. What we know is that they're sad and they're confused. And I think what's important is this text is that their grief and loss cannot be overstated. These followers of Jesus regarded Jesus as far more than a prophet. They've been witnesses to God's power in him through the miracles and all of his teachings. They were certain that this was the one that they'd been waiting for, the one that would redeem Israel, the new Exodus, just as Israel had been redeemed from slavery in Egypt. They were certain that this would happen for them as well, that they would be free at last, free from the oppression, the rule that they lived under.

So we have to understand as we're in this text how devastating the crucifixion was for this community of Jesus' followers. And it wasn't as they thought it would be. What they thought was that this Jesus would be defeating the powers that would be, not dying at their hands. Sad because their hope died on a cross and was buried in a tomb and confused because they had heard the reports of the women that found the tomb empty. They heard the reports of the angels telling them that he was alive.

So at this point no one had seen him yet. So try to imagine the conversations that they were having while they walked. Two disciples walking away from Jerusalem, walking away from everything they thought would change their lives. And they say it out loud, don't they? “But we had hoped,” that line right there, but we had hoped that is the heart of this story and it's a line that all of us have experienced.

We've all said that. But we had hoped that this relationship would last. But we had hoped to get pregnant. But we had hoped that that diagnosis would be different. But we had hoped that things would finally change. This is a resurrection story, a story that starts out in disappointment and grief and confusion. That in between space where nothing makes sense, that space where you've poured your heart, your soul, your mind into it, you're all in. You have put your stake in the ground. You have given everything you have to this moment, to this thing. And yet, it didn't turn out as you supposed it would. That is life.

But here's what matters, is that Jesus met those disciples on the road in the middle of all of that. Luke tells us, "Jesus himself came near and went with them, but their eyes were kept from recognizing them." Jesus is right there. But they don't see Him. And it's not because Jesus is hiding. Could it be because they were hurting? Could it be that they were so focused on what had happened in the past, all those things that had happened? Or that they were so focused on a future that didn't come true, but we had hoped that somewhere between the past and the future, they missed the presence of Jesus walking right beside them.

Does that sound familiar? Because I know I've experienced that. I think it can happen when we replay what was, when we worry about what might be. We miss it. The present moment, the moment when resurrection happens. But the good news is, Jesus doesn't walk away. In fact, He leans in. He asks questions, “What are you discussing as you walk along?”

He already knows and He asks anyway. Because that's how Jesus meets us. He doesn't meet us in giving answers or lectures. He meets us by listening. And it all started with walking.

Before Jesus explains anything, He listens. And I love this part. He lets them tell their story. He lets them name their grief and speak what actually had happened. He lets them speak their disappointment. They stood still, looking sad. Doesn't that kind of say everything? Following Jesus on the road, it begins for us too that way, not fixing with a bunch of answers.

I always think the fixing is the easy button. Boy, and I know in so many aspects of my life, I have that desire. I just want to fix it. I want to take the pain away. Sometimes I'm tired. I'm not sure I want to step into that pain. Easy button is to fix it. But what Jesus is saying here is what we're to do is to show up with our presence, to walk alongside, to listen, to pay attention.

Here's a poet that I love. Her name is Mary Oliver. I think a lot of you are familiar with a lot of her poetry. She wrote a poem entitled "Sometimes." And in that poem, she has what she calls "instructions for living a life." And here are the instructions: Pay attention. Be astonished. And go tell about it.

And I'm going to say this. This is the third time in a row. I kind of get stuck on these things, right? What do I always say? The both and. Now I'm really into simple, not easy. And that is the truth because this is it, friends. Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it And I think we could call it instructions for living an Easter life. Because if Easter is living a life of wholeness and meaning and abundance, the life that we want for ourselves, for others, for our city, for our world, it would make sense, wouldn't it? That this would be how we do it. And for me, when I read this, I thought, "Mary Oliver's simple words, her three lines, kind of sum up the road to Emmaus. Because it does start with paying attention.

For lots of relatable reasons, the disciples were not doing that, at least not at first. Pay attention. The Easter life, the resurrection life, it happens here in this moment, in this breath, in this conversation. Because here's the reality. Jesus is already walking with us. The invitation is simply to notice.

You know, in our text, at some point, Jesus begins to speak, and he speaks not to shame the disciples, but actually to widen their vision, to help them see what's here right now. And what he does, and this is the beauty of the story, beauty of our story, what he does is he helps them see that the story's not over. That this is all part of something bigger, and what felt like an ending is actually part of redemption.

And maybe that's a little hard for us, just because it is hard. Because when something breaks in our lives, it does feel final. It's a story. The story reminds us that God is still at work, even if we can't feel it, even if it feels like it's an ending, God is still at work.

So they all arrive at Emmaus. Looks like the stranger is gonna head on, but those two disciples, they say, "Hey, stay with us." And I think it's interesting that it says they urged him strongly, "Stay with us." They don't fully understand why, but something in them stirring, something has compelled them to invite this stranger to stay. It's kind of like in their not knowing, they knew. They knew that this was important. They need attention somehow to the spirit moving, their hearts burning.

There is a pastor, a theologian, a scholar, a searcher, they call him. His name is Eugene Peterson. Many of you are familiar with him. I think he's best known for being the translator of The Message. A Bible, I think a lot of us have that. We like using that translation.

But there's a biography written about him called "A Burning in My Bones." If you read the biography, it's so fitting for who he was and his experience as a person of faith. But the author invites us into Peterson's story. The story about someone was so brilliant and humble and faithful. He invites us into the story and gives us a glimpse of the early days of Peterson's lives like walking through the hills and mountains of Montana to walking alongside people pastorally. Always with the expectation that one experiences extraordinary holiness in the holy ordinary moments of life, a presence-filled life.

What the author does so well is he captures Peterson's wonder at the presence of God. He captures his radiance and love of scripture. And it's so beautiful. But at the end of Peterson's life, he was fading with dementia. I'll read you a little bit about the end of his life:

One day, Eric, who's his son, found Eugene alone in the living room with a blank look, caressing a mug of coffee.

"How are you doing, Dad?"

"I feel so confused," Eugene answered.

"Yeah, we talked about that, right?" Eric put his hand on his dad's shoulder. "You might not. Your mind's not working the way it used to. It'll be okay. Eric squeezed with affection, speaking the first line of Julian of Norwick's blessing.

"All shall be well, and all shall be well." Eugene looked at Eric like a light had turned on, words welling up from deep memory and long habit.

"And all manner of things shall be well," he answered.

Dad didn't know what state he was in, Eric reflected. Didn't know what year the Lord it was. Didn't know his dad built the house he was sitting in. Didn't know who the president was. But he knew in the depths of his soul the unshakable reality of God's presence. And Eugene, out of that confused disoriented state, maintained a holy awareness residing at his core in an interior place completely intact, untouched by dementia.

And then a few days later, those final hours, Elizabeth sat with him holding his hand and singing hymns. Sensing the end was near, she called for Eric. Then the moment, the last breath, new tears, the stepping out into a broader place, a call from a deep familiar voice, a call to him from a farther shore than we can see, "Let's go. It's time." And last words then, barely discernible, but sounding like, "Thank you." Then unhurried and gentle, Eugene went.

I think it's a beautiful story.

God making good on his presence, on his promise, "I will be with you always." There was a man who lived an Easter life, his testimony to a God who's with us always.

That burning in Peterson was like the burning and stirring in the disciples in our text this morning. A stirring and burning that pointed to a hunger for meaning, connection, for hope, for life, all those things that are wired in each of us. And maybe they couldn't name it, but somehow deep inside they knew it. They walked the road to Emmaus hoping to escape it, but it became this place where they were brought back to life. And then they sit at a table with a stranger, the guest who becomes the host, taking the bread and blessing it and breaking it and giving it. And suddenly, their eyes are open and they recognize Jesus. They remembered and maybe even felt that warmth, the burning of their hearts.

And I think it's fair to say they were astonished. It didn't happen on the road or on the explanation, but in the breaking of the bread. Ordinary, simple, familiar, because I think we often expect God to show up in these big dramatic ways. But here in this moment, Jesus is recognized in a shared meal. And it's that reality that resurrection shows up every day, in every moment, in very ordinary ways and small acts of love in shared meals.

As I was thinking about my week, I was reflecting back on Wednesday night, I had a chance to have our middle schoolers over for us doing a little spiritual teaching on experiencing God and nature. So they came over to my house for some tacos and then we took a little hike down to the Peace Gardens. I had a few questions for them, little assignments to share moments where they experienced God when they were in these spaces. And I have to tell you, I was blown away, these young people in sixth and seventh grade, they open up and they're telling me how they experienced God at camp, around with the sun setting. And some talked about the sun rising and some talked about how when they were out in nature, they just had this deep sense of something bigger than them. Simple, ordinary, but holy. And a reminder that God is present.

And the truth is that Jesus didn't just suddenly become present, he was present the whole time. Burning heart wasn't new, it's just that they noticed it. And maybe it's true for you and I too. Maybe you had sort of that ache or a longing or even a stirring. And as I thought about it, I thought maybe it's not about absence, because sometimes I think about it like that, but maybe it's actually about presence, the presence of Jesus.

And I think if we listen to it, if we pause long enough like we did on Wednesday night, and Grace and Jack, we stopped from our busy, busy lives and we just sat and we paused and we were reminded of that truth that Jesus is there. I think it's in the recognizing and the realizing that we come to that space of astonishment.

And when that happened to the disciples, they immediately headed back to Jerusalem. They go back to the place that they were trying to leave, the place of grief and loss and shattered hope, but now it's different. And the reason it's different is because they're different. That's what happens when we encounter the risen Christ. We are changed and we don't avoid the hard places. We return to those places with new eyes.

I like this story. I like the story because I think it's our story. I can't imagine that there's not one of us in this room that cannot relate to this story because we all have a Jerusalem, don't we? Places of pain, of loss, and we all have an amass, places that we go to try to make sense of it all. And we all have the moments when something breaks open enough where we begin to see again. And here's the thing, it's not a one-time journey. We do this over and over and over again. It's the road we're on. It's the life we live, shattering, walking, recognizing, returning, restoration. Where are you on the road right now? What are you carrying that sounds like, "But I had hoped for."

Where might Jesus already be walking right alongside you unnoticed? And what would it look like if every day we woke up and our mantra was, "I'm gonna pay attention, I'm gonna be astonished, and I'm gonna go tell about it." It would be interesting to see what our lives would look like. To walk the Emmaus road doesn't mean that we walk it alone. We walk it with God, we walk it with one another. We are reminded over and over again that He is near.

And even in our confusion and our uncertainty, He's speaking to us. And even in our breaking, He is present. And in the most ordinary moments when the bread is broken, our hearts are open, and our eyes are seen, we know that He's with us and He's been with us all along. Hallelujah. Christ has risen, and that is good news for you, for me, and for the road that we're walking on right now.

Please pray with me. Holy and gracious God, we are so grateful for who you are and the way you love us and the promise that you've made to be with us always. God, there are many moments in our lives and our community in this world where we are uncertain and we are devastated and we are joy-filled. In all those moments, God, we count on the promise that you've made to us that you'll walk alongside us, be present in us, and that there's never really an end, that you redeem lives, that you promise us eternal life with you. God, we lift this time to you with gratitude and hope and with love. And we pray it in your name. Amen.