Christ meets you on the road - Sermon from 5/8

Vicar Brett Wilson – Easter 3A – 5/8/11 – Luke 24:13-35 – CELC Lancaster

Two disciples walk along an ordinary, insignificant road outside Jerusalem. A stranger comes up alongside, and asks, “What are you discussing with each other while you walk along?” They stood still, looking sad, (and maybe a bit confused) Then one of them, whose name was Cleopas, answered him, “Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who doesn't know the news? Are you the only outsider who hasn't heard what has happened?”

One of my friends said that the disciples essentially respond to this stranger like, “What, have you been living under a rock?” To which Jesus could reply, “well, sorta . . .”

Haven't you heard the news?

Recently, the news has seemed inescapable. Natural disasters wreak havoc, and it is splashed distressingly across our pages and television screens. Haven't you, after all, heard the news of eathquakes, tornados, tsunamis, storms. . . The details change, but the basic story is familiar, isn't it? We hear happy stories too - boy-meets-girl – Kate and William wed. And yes, the news that almost ten years of the destruction of 9/11, Osama Bin Laden is killed. Destruction, revenge. News is everywhere, stories that run constantly by us and affect us in powerful ways. News is close to home, too – the story of the stretched economy leading to cuts right here in our schools, and decreased funding for social services and aid.

So Jesus, the stranger, the outcast, perhaps talking in a foreign accent to tip them off that he's not from here, comes up to the men on the road discussing the hot news of the day – that Jesus of Nazareth.

But I'm not sure if this buzz would make the news today. Our news stories are highly competitive – focused on details, and dynamic narratives that fall into popular storylines.

But this resurrection appearance of Jesus, the story on the Emmaus road, is different.

There are no celebrities – no Peter, not even any of the twelve. No heroes here, just Cleopas and his companion, disciples from the “B” team at best. Having followed Jesus, they walk away, hope lost. They are not looking for him – to them the story is over.

But then, the risen Christ appears, though they do not recognize him. Okay. A dead man. We have frameworks for this, right? But dead men aren't supposed to talk. If dead men talk, as James Alison points out, they tend to be ghosts, and all ghosts say is “whoooo.” This is a different story for another reason – our logic and our patterned storylines tell us that if someone comes back from the dead, they come back – for revenge. Ghosts, after all, have some kind of unfinished business, someone they are looking to pay back.

But Jesus is deliberately not about revenge – there is no competition, no rivalry here, even with death. Jesus risen is creative, not reactionary. There is no vindication, no revenge. There is no victim here. Christ allowed himself to occupy death, so we can no longer be ruled by it. The victory of the cross doesn't easily fit into our framework – it breaks it.

Do you notice some details missing from this story?

In discussing this big news, this Jesus of Nazareth, with the disciples, Jesus himself corrects and teaches them - “then beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them the things about himself in all the scriptures.” What?! So what did he say? Where are the reporters to collect the details? We like the facts.

But facts are not equal to faith, and even with this interpretation of scripture from the very lips of Jesus, the disciples still do not recognize him or have any momentous realization of faith. It is at the table, in the breaking of the bread, in Jesus blessing, breaking, and sharing it, then their eyes are opened, and they recognized Jesus.

God tells us a new story. Different from the ones on the news and in our books and movies.

It is a story remarkable in how unremarkable it is. These disciples are basically nobodies, who feel like they have no idea what God is doing. Cleopas is one of them, and the other is unnamed, unnamed so that you can put your name, yourself there. That disciple is you. The road to Emmaus is an ordinary road, the road you are on each day, the journey you are on. The road you're on isn't some hard path you have to follow to find God. The Emmaus story invites you to expect God to find you. God will meet you there, walking alongside you, even in confusion, pain, and loss of faith and hope. It isn't how many facts you know or some unshakable faith you've built up that connect you with God, but Jesus himself. In the ordinary, in plain old bread, in our every moment, Christ is present.

The encounter on the road began as Jesus asked the disciples what they were talking about as they walked along – and they respond out of shock – of course, we are talking about Jesus of Nazareth, our hoped-for Messiah, who died and rose. What if that were our story today? News stories come and go, and the plots and facts of them can be dizzying in how much is out there. But that is not the only story we are given. Christ's story is on our minds and lips too, even today, long after that first Easter day. Because you are the other disciple, Christ walks with you, hears your frustration, and invites you to the table, where you recognize Christ in the breaking of the bread. There is room for you here.

In the end, “news” is always the story of someone else, but the gospel is the story of you – of God for you. This story is not abstract, but holds God's real presence with you on the road, wherever you are, whoever you are, God finds you. You are a part of this story. So when we sing, come let us eat – you are always a part of us, and we, Christ's body, rises to serve and spread God's word. After all, we look back at our lives, what had happened on the road, and we see Jesus' presence.