Psalm 116:1-4,12-19 Luke 24:13-35

by Patricia de Jong April 21, 1996

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On this third Sunday of Easter, our lectionary treats us to this story of The Emmaus Road from the Gospel of Luke. This story goes solo, as far as the Gospel writers are concerned. It is told only by Luke and bears many of the trademarks we associate with Luke. Many of Luke's stories involve eating and drinking. There are all kinds of meals with Jesus in the Lukan narrative; and on almost all those feasting occasions, the occasion of the meal invites an ethical demand, "When you give a feast, invite the poor, maimed, blind and lame . . . you will be repaid the resurrection of the just." (Luke 14:14)

At Emmaus, there is an invitation to eat and an imperative of recognition in the breaking of the bread. Luke recognizes the one who took on the suffering of us all as the one who is present in the breaking of the bread.

This narrative from Luke embraces other identifiable Lukan themes: the journey motif is common in Luke, as is the explanation of Jesus' sufferings from scripture. The narrative upholds the tradition of the disciples, who were absolutely convinced that Jesus had risen from the dead. Luke shares this conviction with compelling certainty.

There is no doubt that Luke is a gifted story teller. Reynolds Price in his book, A Palpable God, describes this story as "the perfect story," for it has all we need to keep listening-a common ordinary scene, with a new revelation made visible in the telling.

Here it is, two guys, probably good friends, walking down the road together-walking away from something, more than walking towards somewhere else. Remember that it is only a couple of days since the crucifixion of Jesus, and there are all these wild rumors about the tomb and the disappearance of the body. Peter and Cleopas are most likely heading out of town on a power walk to nowhere. They need a break from the tension of grief and the drama of the past couple of weeks; so they take a walk to a place called Emmaus, which means "warm springs," maybe to sit in some hot water and rejuvenate their bodies and their spirits.

While they were walking and discussing together, Luke tells us that Jesus drew near and began to walk with them. "But their eyes were kept from recognizing him." The three had an intense conversation on the walk to Emmaus; the disciples reported to the stranger all that had happened in Jerusalem these last days, and the stranger responded intensely to the news. "O foolish ones and slow of heart to believe" . . . then he proceeded to interpret the scriptures to them.

And they still didn't get it!

It takes sitting down to a meal together before their eyes are opened. And notice, they did not open their own eyes; "their eyes were opened for them."

Their eyes were opened to the story, which was much bigger than all the bewildered stories they had just told. Their eyes and hearts were opened to the big story of the wonder and grace of God in all creation. The two Emmaus pilgrims come to be known and embraced in their grief by the Christ who listens, places the reality of death in the larger picture of God's passion for the whole world, and resolves the pain by a nursing, caring love.

Frederick Buechner, in his treatment of "the Road to Emmaus," asserts that Emmaus was not so much a place as a state of mind." The state of mind is escape-escape from pain, loneliness, longing, sorrow, bewilderment, grief. It is the place where we spend much of our lives, the place in our lives where we are likely to say, "Let the whole thing go to hell, it makes no difference anyway." The road to Emmaus is that place where we go to escape whatever it is we need to escape-whether it is our job, our ornery friends, a demanding, ungrateful family, or that horrible gnawing grief over life and love lost.

It is into these moments of life that the Christ is likely to enter-when life is most real and inescapable. God's grace does not usually come in a blaze of heavenly light or the sudden revelation of a dream or even in the midst of worship-God's grace falls in on us in the midst of the supper table or walking down the road, trying to get away. God's grace falls in on us in the midst of the everyday and ordinary moments, in the plain and simple struggles to understand, in the middle of common conversations on long walks, during phone calls and driving in the car to pick up or deposit kids.

The sacred moments of our lives are the everyday moments in which we can learn to open our spiritual eyes and see the redeeming grace of God moving along the road with us. The road, the conversation, the meal, the friends, even the stranger-all ordinary but made incredible through the grace of God.

"The world does not lack for wonders," Chesterton has written, "only for a sense of wonder." I like to think that for Luke, the burning hearts of the disciples were the sudden realization of the wonder of the grace of God in their lives.

Did not our hearts burn within us, when we met him on the road?

Has your heart ever burned within you?

For me, a burning heart is the feeling you have when you know you have broken from darkness into spiritual light, when something once painful and meaningless becomes profoundly significant because there is some truth revealed to you in the moment.

And life is filled with these moments when our hearts could burn within us. Grace abounds along the road of living, no matter if we are trying to escape; God comes to us and breaks through to us in the most common ways in the midst of the most mundane, breathtaking moments.

Tomorrow we celebrate Earth Day. Today we can dedicate ourselves to learning more about God's good earth in our Second Hour program. Our hearts should burn within us for the miraculous grace of God contained in the beauty, abundance, and absolute fecundity of this amazing whirling planet-the earth. As Gerald Manley Hopkins knew, "The world is charged with the grandeur of God." Look for the revelation of the grace of God through the beauty of the earth.

Look for the grace of God in the lives of those who surround you. In the bodies of loved ones, in beloved structures and institutions like this church and our community. And look for the grace of God in those people and places that appear to be far away and not part of our living. Who can deny our burning hearts along the road to Oklahoma City? Who can deny the coming of the Christ to those survivors of such awful pain, who are struggling to birth new life and meaning out of such devastating loss?

To encounter Jesus on the road and see him in the breaking of the bread is to have the courage to live into the resurrected life, the life of wonder, grace, and gratitude. For Henri Nouwen, a Dutch Catholic priest, the Emmaus story is about moving from a hardened heart to a grateful heart, moving from a life without hope of resurrection to one which is based on that hope.

The brief encounter between Jesus and his friends on the road to Emmaus is a reminder to us that in any moment, in the midst of any experience, the resurrection may be lurking. For us to believe in the resurrection is not simply to put the literal idea into our minds and haul it out on Easter if we need it. It is not to have a piece of intellectual information or spiritual belief in our heads. To believe in the resurrection is a way of being in the world, a way of living in relation to everything that is in our lives-to believe in the resurrection is a way of receiving all of life, moment by moment by moment, as a gracious gift from a loving creator God. It is learning how to trust God and trust in the will of God to renew life even in the most mundane, ordinary and difficult moments of our living.