Pastor Tom Johnson, May 4, 2014
Where are you headed on your journey? Do you have a companion?
Do you have someone to talk to? Isn’t it a blessing to have someone who will
listen, be a sounding board, or simply share your thoughts and questions? Have you ever noticed how quickly time flies on a long journey when
you are engaged in a vibrant discussion? We are relational creatures, we
humans. We are social beings who learn and grow through conversation. And so,
Jesus enters in.
He does not intrude into their dialogue. He eases into their space. He draws near. He asks to be included in their conversation. He appears to not know what they are talking about. And so these pilgrims gather together. These two followers of Jesus do not recognize him. In fact, God keeps their eyes from recognizing him and their ears are prevented from hearing their Shepherd’s voice. His question—“What are you talking about?”—produces sadness. Retelling the story of the great promise and potential of Jesus, his arrest, and crucifixion means re-living the pain and grief of their loss. Jesus invites them to cast their cares, sorrows, and doubt upon him. Someone who appears as a complete stranger, draws out the true condition of their faith. Theirs is a struggling faith, a perplexing faith, a growing faith, a blossoming faith. When they speak to Jesus, they are praying—even though they may not be aware of it. They are doing what Jesus calls us all to do: “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (Matt 11:28-30).
Jesus is not angry but happy to point out the slow growth of their faith. He is amused that they did not expect the promised Messiah to suffer or die. And beginning with Genesis, he takes them through the Hebrew Bible. He shows them how all that they witnessed was promised, prophesied, and foreshadowed long ago in the Scriptures. Our text says that Jesus exegeted the Scriptures to reveal the main character and protagonist of the Bible. That is to say, Jesus explained to them in meticulous detail how all of Scripture points to the good news of Jesus who is—the suffering Servant and King who gives his life for the world and rises again from the dead to assure us of forgiveness and eternal life.
Jesus acts as if he will slip away. He gives the appearance that he will not continue to journey with his disciples. It may seem that way to us at times. But Jesus is committed to stick with us to the end. “They urged him strongly, ‘stay with us for it is growing darker and the day is almost over.’” Isn’t this a wonderful prayer? “Stick around, mysterious Friend. Draw near to us for we want to draw near to you. Your presence brings comfort and assurance to our hearts and minds. The world grows darker. The day is almost over. Light seems to be losing ground. The shadows in the valleys threaten to put fear and doubt into our hearts.”
“Abide with me, fast falls the eventide. The darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide. When other helpers fail and comforts flee, Help of the helpless, O abide with me. Swift to its close ebbs out life’s little day; Earth’s joys grow dim, its glories pass away; Change and decay in all around I see; O Thou who changest not, abide with me.”
And so the service of the Word transitions toward the Table. “Jesus takes the bread, blesses it and breaks it, and distributes it to them.” It is in this service of the Sacrament—through Holy Communion with their new acquaintance—their senses are able to identify who Jesus is. But before they can name him and rejoice in their wonderful reunion at the Table, he vanishes from their sight. That is one of the great ironies of this story, isn’t it: that Jesus wants to make sure they saw him in the Scripture with their eyes of faith before their physical eyes? It is in the breaking of bread that their journey ends in complete recognition.
Isn’t that what we are experiencing this morning: though we do
not see him, we experience him through the ministry of the Word? …though we
cannot touch or embrace him with our hands, we can receive him in his Body and
Blood through the bread and wine? “Were not our hearts burning within us?” they say. It is a
mini-Pentecost. God starts in a burning sensation in our gut, fills our minds
with knowledge, and our mouths with heavenly food. Has not God ignited that same
fire of grace in our lives this morning? Here God serves us and not merely intellectually. He meets us
through all the senses: through hearing, seeing, touching, smelling, and
tasting. The Holy Spirit fans to flame our faith in the innermost part of our
being. We have visceral knowledge of God. We know in our gut, in our mind, and
throughout our whole being that Jesus is Lord and Savior; he is the one who
lives, heals, teaches, dies, and rises again for us.
This account of Jesus joining the two disciples on their way to Emmaus demonstrates how God infuses Easter joy into our lives, mouths, and hearts. Like the disciples, life is a brief journey where Jesus mysteriously accompanies his people. It ends at the close of the day when God will make all things new. He will spread before us a banquet table. There, he will not vanish but appear in great glory to welcome us to the marriage supper of the Lamb in his Kingdom which will have no end. Doesn’t that ignite a fire of joy in your heart?
He does not intrude into their dialogue. He eases into their space. He draws near. He asks to be included in their conversation. He appears to not know what they are talking about. And so these pilgrims gather together. These two followers of Jesus do not recognize him. In fact, God keeps their eyes from recognizing him and their ears are prevented from hearing their Shepherd’s voice. His question—“What are you talking about?”—produces sadness. Retelling the story of the great promise and potential of Jesus, his arrest, and crucifixion means re-living the pain and grief of their loss. Jesus invites them to cast their cares, sorrows, and doubt upon him. Someone who appears as a complete stranger, draws out the true condition of their faith. Theirs is a struggling faith, a perplexing faith, a growing faith, a blossoming faith. When they speak to Jesus, they are praying—even though they may not be aware of it. They are doing what Jesus calls us all to do: “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (Matt 11:28-30).
Jesus is not angry but happy to point out the slow growth of their faith. He is amused that they did not expect the promised Messiah to suffer or die. And beginning with Genesis, he takes them through the Hebrew Bible. He shows them how all that they witnessed was promised, prophesied, and foreshadowed long ago in the Scriptures. Our text says that Jesus exegeted the Scriptures to reveal the main character and protagonist of the Bible. That is to say, Jesus explained to them in meticulous detail how all of Scripture points to the good news of Jesus who is—the suffering Servant and King who gives his life for the world and rises again from the dead to assure us of forgiveness and eternal life.
Jesus acts as if he will slip away. He gives the appearance that he will not continue to journey with his disciples. It may seem that way to us at times. But Jesus is committed to stick with us to the end. “They urged him strongly, ‘stay with us for it is growing darker and the day is almost over.’” Isn’t this a wonderful prayer? “Stick around, mysterious Friend. Draw near to us for we want to draw near to you. Your presence brings comfort and assurance to our hearts and minds. The world grows darker. The day is almost over. Light seems to be losing ground. The shadows in the valleys threaten to put fear and doubt into our hearts.”
“Abide with me, fast falls the eventide. The darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide. When other helpers fail and comforts flee, Help of the helpless, O abide with me. Swift to its close ebbs out life’s little day; Earth’s joys grow dim, its glories pass away; Change and decay in all around I see; O Thou who changest not, abide with me.”
And so the service of the Word transitions toward the Table. “Jesus takes the bread, blesses it and breaks it, and distributes it to them.” It is in this service of the Sacrament—through Holy Communion with their new acquaintance—their senses are able to identify who Jesus is. But before they can name him and rejoice in their wonderful reunion at the Table, he vanishes from their sight. That is one of the great ironies of this story, isn’t it: that Jesus wants to make sure they saw him in the Scripture with their eyes of faith before their physical eyes? It is in the breaking of bread that their journey ends in complete recognition.
Isn’t that what we are experiencing this morning: though we do
not see him, we experience him through the ministry of the Word? …though we
cannot touch or embrace him with our hands, we can receive him in his Body and
Blood through the bread and wine? “Were not our hearts burning within us?” they say. It is a
mini-Pentecost. God starts in a burning sensation in our gut, fills our minds
with knowledge, and our mouths with heavenly food. Has not God ignited that same
fire of grace in our lives this morning? Here God serves us and not merely intellectually. He meets us
through all the senses: through hearing, seeing, touching, smelling, and
tasting. The Holy Spirit fans to flame our faith in the innermost part of our
being. We have visceral knowledge of God. We know in our gut, in our mind, and
throughout our whole being that Jesus is Lord and Savior; he is the one who
lives, heals, teaches, dies, and rises again for us.This account of Jesus joining the two disciples on their way to Emmaus demonstrates how God infuses Easter joy into our lives, mouths, and hearts. Like the disciples, life is a brief journey where Jesus mysteriously accompanies his people. It ends at the close of the day when God will make all things new. He will spread before us a banquet table. There, he will not vanish but appear in great glory to welcome us to the marriage supper of the Lamb in his Kingdom which will have no end. Doesn’t that ignite a fire of joy in your heart?
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