Going On

I feel strangely incomplete this year. The last couple of times around the sun I had the delirious privilege of preaching on Easter Sunday evening when, in the Episcopal Church at least, we hear the story of Cleopas and his friend walking the road to Emmaus. Here at St. John’s we have moved our Sunday evening worship to Wednesday, so I did not walk that mysterious seven mile journey from Jerusalem as the sun was sinking on April 16th. Fortunately for me, and maybe you too, I am preaching on this Third Sunday of Easter when we hear again Luke 24:13-35.

To me, the walk to Emmaus stands out as important for many reasons. What we in the Episcopal Church call Cursillo, the United Methodist Church and others call Emmaus, so it is a story about pilgrimage and transformation. Also, some will attest that this story heard on Easter evening caps off the Triduum, those Holy Days spanning from Maundy Thursday to Good Friday, Holy Saturday, and finally Easter day. Most importantly to me, without walking this journey with the disbelieving disciples I do not get the full, mesmerizing scope of what happened on Easter day long ago. This story definitely still resonates with us enough that we need to hear it again and again.

As I go back again to that holy walk that two disciples took, I am struck by several details in particular. On the day after the Passover, when these men would have first been able to travel away from the fervent atmosphere of Jerusalem and distance themselves from Jesus' death, Cleopas and his friend were walking somewhere that most scholars cannot even pinpoint on a map. Almost as though they were walking anywhere that was not Jerusalem. Luke tells us Jesus came near, but they could not recognize him. This detail appears somewhat common among Post-Resurrection accounts in the various Gospel accounts. The disciples cannot seem to see their teacher with them. When Jesus asks them what they are discussing they respond most curiously.

The two men when questioned about what had happened over the last few days in Jerusalem responded not with words, but with stillness and sadness. Eventually they came around to discussing Jesus of Nazareth, and when pressed by the man himself, they talked of his death, their hopes, and their doubts. What gets me though is their standing still. Like a well-timed rest in a beautiful piece of music or the use of negative space in a fine work of art, sometimes what isn’t said says more than all the words we might utter. When the disciples finish blabbering a bit, Jesus calls them foolish and slow of heart to believe. I wonder if he would have said the same thing if they had just continued to stay still and be grief-stricken, instead of explanatory and dismissive of what others had discovered. Regardless, what comes next would have been a conversation to behold!

Jesus unleashed for those two fortunate listeners a Scriptural study that had their hearts burning within their chests. Sometimes I wonder what the Great Teacher would have said about himself. The Scripture we still possess has the evidence Jesus used to show how Christ came, comes, and will come to redeem all of Creation, which is fantastic, but part of me still wishes to be there on that walk. After this great Bible study, Luke makes it clear that Jesus was headed onward. While the entire story fascinates me, today this detail stands out from the rest.

Where was Jesus going? Why would he have left those disciples? If they had not been bold enough to invite him to dine with them would they have ever known it was Jesus? I have no answer to these questions and many others that this detail stimulates. I do think Luke beautifully gives to us a gift in this part of the story. The text reads, “He walked ahead as if he were going on.” I think that after this story concludes with the mystic sweet communion and Jesus’ disappearing act that he did keep going on. I think that even now Christ keeps going onward.

As I continue to wonder what the Spirit is saying through this passage, I believe that standing still and being with where I am will allow me oddly enough to see where Christ is going onward within me, within our church, and within all Creation. Stay still, be where we are, and watch Christ going onward!