“Stay with us” (Luke 24:13-35)

Luke 24:13-35

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Pastor Tom Johnson, April 22, 2020

It’s still Sunday. The women had just told the disciples that they saw the risen Lord. These two disciples set out on a seven mile journey on the road to a village called Emmaus. They were talking about all the things that just happened. They were trying to take it all in and process. While they are walking and talking, a stranger joins them. He asks, “What are you talking about?” They are amazed that someone could be leaving Jerusalem and not know what had just happened. “What things?” the stranger asks. They tell the story of Jesus who is mighty in word and deed. They share how he was unjustly tried and crucified. They are heartbroken. Their hope that Jesus was the Messiah was shattered. Now they are amazed by the news of the women who said they had seen Jesus raised from the dead. The stranger tells them they should not be amazed or surprised by any of this. They should not have their hopes shattered. This was God’s plan all along,. In fact, it is right there in the Bible beginning in Genesis and all of the Hebrew Scriptures.

The stranger goes through Scriptural passages, redemptive history, biblical stories, wisdom literature, poetry, prophetic writings, and promises to show that this was God’s plan all along. The Messiah was to suffer, die, and rise again from the dead. “He interpreted to them the things about Messiah in all the Scriptures.” The word “interpret” is where theologians get the word “exegesis.” The stranger explained the Bible to them during their seven-mile walk which would probably have taken well over two hours. They get a much better understanding and picture of who the true Messiah both in their understanding of Holy Scripture as well as it was lived in the life of Jesus of Nazareth. As they started to enter Emmaus, the stranger kept walking—now away from the disciples. “It’s getting late,” they say. “Stay with us.”

When the guest enters their home. The guest becomes their host. He takes the bread, blesses it, breaks it, and gives it to them. At that moment their eyes are open to recognize that the stranger is the risen Jesus himself. And then Jesus vanishes before their eyes just as soon as they realize who he is. Even though it is late, the disciples go back another seven miles to Jerusalem to tell the disciples. When they arrive, they tell the disciples, “The Lord has risen indeed!” Then they share their experience on the road, how their hearts were burning within them while he was talking to them…while he was opening the scriptures to them. And how they recognized him in the breaking of the bread.

Jesus also comes alongside us on our journeys. We may not recognize he is right there at our side. We may doubt that he hears or understands our prayers—how we too have shattered dreams and hopes. We too get caught up in foolishness—so much so that we do not see the Lord standing right next to us. We are slow of heart to believe and trust that though we do not understand why things happen the way they do, God still has a plan. Even though his ways are not our ways, he is in control from the beginning. There will be times when it will appear that God is distancing himself from us—that he is leaving us behind. He sometimes seems be pulling away. But this is not so.  What the Lord wants is an invitation. He has drawn near to us in his Word. Now he wants us to draw near to him. “We love because he first loved us.”

Their prayer is a simple one: “Stay with us.” “Come Lord Jesus, be our guest and let these gifts to us be blessed.” “Abide with me fast falls the eventide.” Stay with us, Lord, the world is growing dark. We need the light of your presence. When we feel that God is pulling away, it is God’s bid for connection. Jesus acts as if he is going farther. What he really wants is for us to invite him into our homes and hearts. He intends to draw near to us. He wants us to draw near to him.

We Lutherans do not always like to talk about it, but there is an existential component to our faith and life in Christ. The disciples kept rhetorically asking each other, “Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking and opening the Scriptures to us?” That itself is amazing and heartwarming indeed. Jesus assures us of his grace and presence in our lives. He soothes our troubled minds and spirits. God has a plan. It includes suffering and betrayal of the Lord of glory. But his plan ends in triumph over death, the devil, and all our sin. And even more than that, the Lord of heaven and earth makes a bid for connection with you and me. By his Holy Spirit and the Word—by his Holy Spirit and the Bread and the Wine of Holy Communion—by our prayerful conversation with Jesus—Jesus draws near. “Stay with us.”

Our prayer and longing for Jesus to come into our homes and hearts validates the work he does. Our longing and desire for Christ to dwell richly in our hearts is an answer to God’s prayer. To stay with us is exactly what he wants and intends to do. He is the same one who says, “I am with you always, even to the end of the age” (Matthew 28:20). He brings strength to our steps as we tell others he has risen indeed. He brings thanksgiving to our tables and homes. He makes our hearts burn within us with his presence and joy that the world cannot give. He longs and works for us to experience it. He will stay with us all the way through our journey in this life and in the life of the world to come.

“Shut in” (John 20:19-31)

John 20:19-31

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Pastor Tom Johnson, April 19, 2020

It was just hours after the women told the disciples that Jesus had risen from the dead. The angel told them to go to Galilee and Jesus would meet them there. Jesus told them to go to Galilee and meet him there.  They go back to the upper room where Jesus and his disciples celebrated their last supper—the night in which he was betrayed. This is the house where they “had met.” By all descriptions, this place was a first century Jerusalem two-flat. This upstairs residence is identified in Acts as John Mark’s mother Mary’s large home.

John tells us clearly that they had shut and locked the doors for fear of the Judean authority. And I can’t blame them. They had just seen their Lord arrested, beaten just short of his life, and then brutally and publicly executed. Maybe they were planning their journey to meet the resurrected Christ in Galilee the next day. However, there is no mention of that. What our Scripture does tell us is that the disciples hunker down. They shelter in place.

Some of the disciples will spend more than 40 days confined in this home. Seven of the disciples will go to Galilee and meet Jesus by the Sea of Galilee where Jesus first met his disciples. It was a kind of reboot of their ministry—for some like Peter, it was second chance.

Jesus will send them back to Jerusalem. And it is at the same two-flat that they will experience the outpouring the Holy Spirit on the Day of Pentecost. That is about 50 days of the upper room being home base—not just for the disciples but now for the infant Church in Jerusalem. It took 40 days for Jesus to meet the disciples in Galilee and commission them as to make disciples of all nations through Baptism and teaching. The length of days is the same for Noah and his family when they batten down the hatches in the Ark. The length of days is 40 of Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness. It was 40 years of wandering in the wilderness for the Israelites from the time they sheltered in their homes on Passover until the day they entered the Promised Land.

What I find so remarkable is that the disciples seem to have no idea what God is up to. All they do is shut, latch, and lock the doors—to batten down the hatches and hope that they can ride this terrible storm of persecution, arrest, and death.  They locked for fear of the Judean authority. But they may have also done so in disobedience to the Lord’s command to go to Galilee. They may have stayed where they were out of unbelief.

I am struck by the dark irony of our text and our current situation. Here we are under the orders of civil authority to shelter in place—to hunker down—to batten down the hatches as individual households—but also the household of faith. The city, state, and federal government have prohibited public gatherings of the church. The Church has already been hunkering down in hiding. We have shut our doors to the world outside by traditionalism, judgmentalism, and tribalism. We have retreated into our ivory towers of theological pride.  No one locked us in. We have locked the doors on the inside with our fears and doubts. We do not want to lose control of what happens on the inside. We are desperate to protect ourselves from the threats of the world on the outside. So many church members over the years have told me that while they would like to receive a visit and Communion in their homes, they do not want to be called shut ins or on the list of shut ins. Now we are all shut ins. Even pastors are a shut ins. This description of the disciples fearfully barricading themselves behind wood and iron doors is there to make us crack a smile. Is that really enough to keep the danger out? No. The punchline is that it will not keep God’s blessings out either.

Jesus shows up. This is earlier than he had said. He said that he would meet them in Galilee. Here is the risen Christ in his glorified body walking through walls and locked doors—or perhaps just showing up and materializing out of thin air. Jesus says, “shalom”—peace. He comes to inoculate their fear with his peace. He comes to infiltrate their doubts by strengthening their faith. He says that there will be the blessed ones who will believe even though they have not seen Jesus. They will trust God even though they have not a sensational encounter. Jesus is talking about you and me. We are so blessed because as God’s people we have the assurance of things hoped for and the conviction of things not seen (Heb 11). We can laugh at ourselves—despite our own fears and doubts—because the stay at home order is something we have too long observed.  But even more than that. Jesus has shown up in a surprising way into our homes and into our hearts these days. He comes with peace that transcends human understanding. By his Word and the fresh air of his Spirit he breathes new life into us.

When the Apostle Paul was in chains and under house arrest. He spoke of his captors coming to faith in Christ. He said, “The Word of God is not in chains” (2 Tim 2:9). In other words, the Gospel cannot be locked up. Even the gates of hell will not shut in the Holy Spirit and what he wants to do in us and through us. At the end of the book of Acts, Paul is under house arrest for two whole years. And yet, he “welcomes all who come to him, proclaiming the kingdom of God and teaching about the Lord Jesus Christ with all boldness and without hindrance” (Acts 28:30,31).

This text is about Jesus’ ministry to shut-ins. The day will come when we can return to “normalcy.” But I don’t want that. I don’t believe that is what God wants. He wants us to have a new normal where the good news and transforming message of Jesus comes into our lives and goes out unhindered by us and the world. Dear shut-ins, Jesus is your surprise guest. He is our breath of fresh air in the Spirit. He is our home base, our shelter in our time of need, our refuge in days of trouble, the ark in the midst of the storm. He is the risen Christ, who by the power of the resurrection makes all things new.

“With Fear and Great Joy” (Matthew 28:1-10)

Matthew 28:1-10

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“With Fear and Great Joy,” Matthew 28:1-10
Pastor Tom Johnson, April 12, 2020

Mary Magdalene and the other Mary leave the tomb quickly with fear and great joy. The angel tells them not to be afraid. Jesus tells them to not be afraid. The women had lots of reasons to be afraid. Just a few days earlier, they saw their Master brutally executed by public crucifixion. Jesus’ death and burial were both under the supervision of Roman soldiers. It is a courageous thing for these women to approach a heavily guarded tomb. Their only protection is to come under the cover of darkness. Another reason for them to be afraid is the earthquake that happens on their way. They don’t know it yet, but an angel not only rolls away the stone from the mouth of the tomb, but also rocks and rattles the ground which can be at great distance. When they arrive, they probably had expected to see the shadowy outline of Roman soldiers. Instead, they are greeted by an angel clothed in blinding light—so bright it would burn their retinas like looking at the flash of lightning. When they come across the battle-worn soldiers who are supposed to be guarding the tomb, they have just been jarred, jolted, and shaken into a stupor. They look like dead men who had just been flattened by the mere appearance of a glorious angel. They angel greets them. “Do not be afraid. I know you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here; for he has been raised, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay.” But the angel’s charge is also frightening. “Go quickly and tell his disciples, ‘He has been raised from the dead…he is going ahead of you to Galilee.’” Why doesn’t the angel send the message himself? He does a pretty good job of getting people’s attention and conveying the authority of God.

It’s a scary thing to be asked to convey a message to a group of men who are known to easily dismiss news from women. Luke’s Gospel said that they considered their message to be an idle tale and didn’t believe them (Lk 24:11). Public speaking is frightening enough. They likely knew their audience already would suspect their message to be a lie and a delusional story. They go as the angel commanded. They obey and go quickly. They go with fear. They run with great joy.

I recently discovered the emotion wheel. It’s a chart that helps identify primary emotions and to express, with words, how a person is feeling. I guess I should have known all along, but it still surprised me that I am allowed to feel more than one emotion at a time—even emotions that seem to be contradictory—like fear and joy. But there it is—right there in Scripture. As Mary and Mary go to preach the Easter message, they are filled with fear and great joy. Our humanity is validated by the Word of God. How apropos!

Easter is the one Sunday of the year when a preacher’s sermon should be a homerun and verbally hit out of the park. I’m especially filled with butterflies when I see the sanctuary filled with people. The pressure is on. This year, I’m looking out at empty pews.

I remember advice a seasoned pastor and church planter once told me more than 20 years ago: “Preach to the empty pews. Preach in a way that draws people into the empty pews—those who would otherwise never come.”

I am filled with other fears. When will we be able to gather again and exchange the signs of peace as sisters and brothers? When will we be able to break bread together and share the Lord’s Supper around the Altar? What happens if someone in my family or our church gets sick and we cannot be there physically to pray? What sort of deathblow will this be to the church at-large—already facing declining attendance? How many lives will be lost? How many jobs? How much damage to the economy and to our institutions, social fabric, and bonds?

Austrian Jew and psychiatrist Viktor Frankl survived three Nazi concentration camps during World War II—including Auschwitz. He said one of the things that enabled him to survive was cultivating a dark sense of humor. Just a little bit of joy in the midst of terror helped him through dark nights of his soul. Humor is finding joy even in worst of times. When this pandemic is over, I hope we as a church and as a global community do not lose our sense of humor and soon forget all the things that give us joy. As depressing as it is to look at an empty sanctuary and not see you all, it brings a smile to my face to know that you are not in your Sunday best here. Many of you are likely still in our pajamas. You can’t see it but I’m wearing running shoes. In the midst of all the sorrow, anxiety, and dread it is God’s will and delight that we experience even greater joy. After Covid-19, there will be other things that will compete with your joy. So it will be until the end of the age.

But here we are now with fear—but also great joy. Did you notice the intensifier is not on fear but on joy—great joy? “Greater is he who is within you than he who is in the world.” Greater the joy in your heart than the fear infecting the world! Christ has risen! He has defeated death—for us! He knocked a few Roman soldiers down with the mere appearance of his angel. That’s a detail in the Bible to remind you that God is not only all powerful but also has a sense of humor. The women quickly run with fear and great joy—and surprise. They run right into the resurrected Christ. He hilariously says one word. “Hi—greetings!”

Joy-filled Jesus playfully and lovingly greets them. Their fear melts away into reverential awe and profound joy. They fall at his feet in worship. Jesus sends them off with the same charge to tell their sisters and brothers the good news—Christ is risen indeed. It brings me joy that this crisis has increased gratitude for the many things we have so long taken for granted—a handshake, a hug, a shared meal, public worship, Holy Communion and much more. And even more so—the Gospel—Jesus who died and rose again to give us the assurance of grace, forgiveness for all our sins, and eternal life.

This is a sight that gladdens—What peace it doth impart!
Now nothing ever saddens The joy within my heart.
No gloom shall ever shake, No foe shall ever take
The hope which God’s own son In love for me has won.
               (“Awake, My Heart, with Gladness” LSB 467 v. 3)

Alleluia! Christ is risen!