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April 16, 2017 - Easter Sunday
Luke 24:13-35
13 Now on that same day two of the
disciples 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 Jerusalem who does not
know the things that have taken place there in these days?” 19 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, 20 and how our
chief priests and leaders handed him over to be condemned to death and
crucified him. 21 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. 22 Moreover, some women of our group
astounded us. They were at the tomb early this morning, 23 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. 24 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.”
25 Then Jesus said to them, “Oh, how
foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have
declared! 26 Was it not necessary that the Messiah
should suffer these things and then enter into his glory?” 27 Then beginning
with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them the things about
himself in all the scriptures.
28 As they came near the village to which
they were going, he walked ahead as if he were going on. 29 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. 30 When he was at
the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. 31 Then their eyes
were opened, and they recognized him; and he vanished from their sight. 32 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?” 33 That same hour
they got up and returned to Jerusalem; and they found the eleven and their
companions gathered together. 34 They were saying, “The Lord has risen
indeed, and he has appeared to Simon!” 35 Then they told
what had happened on the road, and how he had been made known to them in the
breaking of the bread.
Sermon: “The
Resurrection Road”
“The Road
goes ever on and on
Down from the
door where it began.
Now far ahead
the Road has gone,
And I must
follow, if I can,
Pursuing it
with eager feet,
Until it
joins some larger way
Where many
paths and errands meet.
And whither
then? I cannot say.”
It’s fun to start a sermon on such a nerdy note: I could tell
which of you lit up at this little Tolkien poem. I’m in good company.
The Road goes ever on and on…roads are so important, and not
just in this book (Tolkien), but in this one too (Bible).
Especially in the New Testament, we find that some of the most
significant events happen on a road.
Of course, there’s the road to Jericho. We’ll call this ‘The
Violent Road’, a place Jesus used to answer that question we should always be
asking ourselves: “and who is my neighbor?” We know it as the parable of the
Good Samaritan, making it about the hero of the story, when of course, that
road was really all about the victim: that man who was mugged, beaten, and left
for dead. Few people ever discuss the road
itself, asking what conditions have created such a violent path. Martin
Luther King, Jr. did speak about this road, though, the day before his own
violent death, saying, “On the
one hand we are called to play the good Samaritan on life's roadside; but that
will be only an initial act. One day we must come to see that the whole Jericho
road must be transformed so that men and women will not be constantly beaten
and robbed as they make their journey on life's highway.”
From the Violent Road to Jericho, we journey onwards, coming to
another in scripture, famously termed the Via Dolorosa, the Sorrowful Road.
This is, of course, the road Christ walked to Golgotha, to the cross. This road
has been a place of great significance for Christians, especially for our
Catholic friends. The fourteen stations of the cross are found upon it, two
with their roots in scripture: Simon of Cyrene carrying the cross for Jesus for
a time, and Jesus addressing the mourning crowd to weep not for him, but for
their children. The other stations of the Sorrowful Road have more mythical
roots, but that doesn’t mean they’re insignificant. It’s a good time to draw on
the wisdom of Mark Twain who wrote, “Never
let the truth stand in the way of a good story.”
We have such powerful stories of Jesus’ stops along this
Sorrowful Road: from Jesus’ mother Mary embracing him, to a woman Veronica
wiping his sweat and tear-stained face (and the handkerchief that is said to
miraculously still bear the outline of his face), to multiple falls under the
weight of that sorrow, to his state execution on the cross, and finally, to the
tomb.
After walking this heavy road, we might want to just cozy up in
our hobbit holes with a cup of tea and a comfy chair, and not journey on any
further. But other roads beckon…
There is the Damascus Road, what we will call “The Salvation
Road,” where Saul meets the blinding grace of God. Jesus took his sight to help
him see for the first time his own hypocrisy and sinfulness. He was not the
pure soul he thought he was; he was a persecutor, with a heart full of violence
and malice. Jesus made him utterly dependent on those he had persecuted,
needing the help of a former enemy – Ananias a follower of The Way – to bring
his sight back (showing how reconciliation really is the heart of the gospel).
Saul became Paul, and was baptized with the grace of God, and the grace of
forgiveness from his former enemy. You might just say that Christianity as we
know it wouldn’t have happened, had it not been for that road.
But then, we’ve left out the most important road of all, our
final journey this morning: the road to Emmaus. We’ll call this “the Resurrection
Road.” Two disciples walked that dusty road to Emmaus. We know one of them was
Alphaeus, also know as Clopas or Cleopas, father of James. The other isn’t
named, but some[1]
have surmised that the second disciple was a woman, Alphaeus’ own wife, Mary,
who on that first day of the week, a work day, would have traveled back to
Emmaus with her husband, rather than be left behind. This also fits with their
later reporting to “the eleven.” For the sake of a good story, let’s say it was
Alphaeus and Mary.
They walked that Resurrection Road, but they didn’t know that
was its name. You see, they thought they were still on the Via Dolorosa, after
all, tears kept them from clearly seeing the stranger who suddenly walked along
beside them. They didn’t realize that the resurrection had happened, that even
the dust clinging to their weary sandals had been already redeemed by the life-giving
work of their Lord.
The risen Jesus patiently walked with them, listening to their
grief and sorrow. Finally, unable to wait any longer, he explained to them all
that the Messiah had to endure. But grief doesn’t always listen to logic; grief
listens instead to another language: hospitality. (You see, there’s a reason
casseroles hold such healing power in churches!)
These disciples were heartbroken, yes, but they weren’t rude.
They invited this wise stranger to stay with them. Then it was Jesus’ -- that
holy guest’s -- turn to return the favor, and he blessed and broke bread with
them, as we’ll soon do. Suddenly, their eyes were opened, and they recognized
him, and recognized that they’d been walking on the Resurrection Road all along,
without even knowing it.
What roads are we walking on today, I wonder? Maybe you feel
like you’re trudging along on the Violent Road, watching helplessly as people
get hurt and oppressed again and again.
Maybe you feel like you’re painfully plodding along the
Sorrowful Road, that Via Dolorosa, and barely able to continue carrying your
own cross of illness or financial worry or grief or loneliness.
Maybe you feel like you’re blindly blundering down the Salvation
Road, unable to see what’s ahead, but trusting that Jesus is guiding you as
real as a hand holding your own.
…Now far
ahead the Road has gone,
And I must
follow, if I can,
Pursuing it
with eager feet,
Until it
joins some larger way
Where many
paths and errands meet.
And whither
then? I cannot say.
Whatever road we’re on, they do all join a larger way, where
many paths meet. That larger way is the Resurrection Road, and like Alphaeus
and possibly Mary, we don’t always recognize that we’re walking on it. But
there is a way to clearly plant our feet on that Resurrection Road, and that
way is hospitality: to invite the stranger in, even and especially in times of
threat and violence, like what the disciples had just witnessed. We welcome the
other, not because they’ve earned it, but because there is only one answer to
that Emmaus Road question, “And who is my neighbor?” Everyone.
If we long for our feet to find the Resurrection Road, as we
should, it begins and ends with hospitality. That road beckons to us, never
ending, continually calling us from our distracted, destructive wanderings onto
a better path that leads to life and redemption for all, even the dust beneath
our weary feet.
No matter how lost, no matter how sorrowful, no matter how
blinded by hatred, no matter how numbed by violence, we can always step onto
that life-giving road.
We take that first step as those first followers of The Way did,
by saying to the stranger, the wanderer and the refugee, “Stay with us,
because it is almost evening and the day is now nearly over.”
And,
just like that, the road goes ever on and on. Christ is risen! He is risen
indeed! Alleluia! Amen.
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