Who’s The Other Disciple?

Where do we fit at the table?

This sermon was preached at St. John's Episcopal Church, Decatur, AL on the Wednesday in Easter Week. The text that inspired this sermon was Luke 24:13-35. 

It was moving day today at the office—a rather disorienting day. We moved part of our offices across the street to the Albany Office Building. The staff won’t officially be there full time until Monday, April 9th. However, some of our stuff is already there. And, some of our stuff will be housed in the big storage bin in the church parking lot. To say I feel all over the place is an understatement. Still I am pretty sure my feeling of bewilderment pales in comparison to that of Cleopas and his friend on their walk to Emmaus.

On Easter afternoon Cleopas and the other disciple headed out of Jerusalem on the seven mile trip to Emmaus. They had heard from the women of their group that Jesus’ tomb was empty. But, they didn’t stick around. Why? The story doesn’t say.

If one’s recently dead teacher, leader, and Lord was no longer in his tomb, why might one leave town? One might have been scared—not of a ghost, but of crucifixion. One might have needed to run away because a dead man walking just doesn’t happen. One might have been so confused that getting away was the only option. Whatever the reason Cleopas and the other disciple left Jerusalem on Sunday afternoon. The women shared the most preposterously good news, and these two could not stick around to comprehend it. So, for whatever reason they fled.

On the way they were joined by a stranger. Someone they did not recognize. Someone who had not heard anything of the last few days. Cleopas and the other disciple did not identify the stranger at first. The three of them walked together nonetheless. The stranger after hearing a bit about the events of the last three days began to interpret Scripture. He opened up for Cleopas and the other what the events might mean, but the disciples could not grasp the deeper message. They kept walking together though.

As evening drew closer, Cleopas and the other drew nearer to their destination. The stranger though looked as though he would keep going. Something in the disciples urged them to invite the stranger to eat and to stay. So, they asked. The stranger accepted. Then, the three were at table with each other.

At table, the stranger’s identity came crashing into focus. For he took bread, blessed it, broke it, and gave it to the disciples. Their eyes were opened and they saw that this was the Risen Lord right in their midst. Whatever had taken these disciples from Jerusalem all of a sudden became insignificant, for they ran back to the other disciples. At that late hour, surely after dark, they ran seven miles back to Jerusalem!When they arrived back in town, Cleopas and the other disciple shared in the good news, “The Lord has risen indeed!”

This whole story stands out as uncanny, but a couple of things in particular strike me today. The first one is rather obvious. Cleopas and the other disciple could not see the truth of the Risen Lord in what the women had said or even what Jesus said on the road. They had to see that remarkable, unbelievable truth in the breaking of the bread. It was communion that shook off the scales on their eyes. What implication might this have on us? How might Communion be seen differently in the light of Easter?

Second, and this seems less obvious, there is some mystery surrounding the second disciple’s identity. Certainly those in the early church would have had to know who Cleopas’ friend was. Surely, everyone knew who it was. So, why leave the identity obscure? Maybe it was so that we could see ourselves in that person. Sort of like how an icon leaves a blank space to envision ourselves in the life of God, this story too invites us inside of it.

You and I are invited to imagine ourselves as a companion on the way to Emmaus. What happened there can happen to us too! We may not be able to hear the Good News of Christ Jesus in what a friend shares with us. We may not even be able to receive that Good News in the word of Holy Scripture. Certainly though gathered lovingly around a table together we will see Christ in our midst. We are invited into this story and we are invited to go tell others, "The Lord has risen indeed!"

We are to share our good news of the Risen Lord, like the women did and like these disciples did. We are to help reveal the story of Christ Jesus in the Holy Scripture. And, we are called to invite others to share in communion together as we dwell around the Table with our Risen Lord. So come share your good news, share in the Good News, and share in the Lord's Supper.

On The Way

“Ehh ewww, ehh ewww, ehh ewww,” I breathed in and out exhaustedly. Despite years of a cardiovascular foundation playing soccer, on this first run with college distance men from the track team I found myself out of breath. “Running: Our sport is your sport’s punishment” read the shirt of the guy ahead of me. After only a couple of miles at “easy pace” I could barely read those words as they faded into the horizon ahead. When they did I was lost. Confused by the woods and a maze of similar looking trails on the 13,000 acre campus I did not know where to go.

Eventually I found my way back to the track with a few minutes of daylight to spare. Over the course of months I got better at running. I did not gasp as much. My legs became stronger. Finally, by the fall when the leaves turned fiery colors and the air turned crisp, I found myself acclimated to the mileage and the routes. And yet, I might have been more lost than before even with good friends and teammates by my side.

My junior year of college turned out to be an age of being lost, or perhaps better put, not knowing where to go. The relationship I had been in for over a year with my girlfriend exploded right in my face, which precipitated a series of life-altering questions about life and love and loss—including whether God even existed. I recall the runs that autumn serving as stress-relievers, as well as moments when with my best friends I could ask the most serious questions that I dared not wonder in the presence of professors, high school buddies, or family. As we blazed the paths to the Forestry Cabin, King’s Farm, or Dotson Point I never realized that I wasn’t only on Sewanee paths, but also on the way to Emmaus.

Cleopas and his friend were lost, and in not such a different way than I was lost. Sure, they knew they were headed to Emmaus and ultimately I knew the routes I ran, but make no mistake none of us knew where we were going. With all our doubts blinding our vision we headed down paths that we hoped would lead back to normalcy: fishing nets or geology assignments, tax offices or computer labs, and the day-in, day-out comfort of routine. Those men and I had a lot in common for we had in the midst of trying times turned back to go towards everyday life, while we ignored the events that had changed life forever.

On that same day, that is Easter Day, Cleopas and his friend recounted everything that had happened. And yet, even though they went back through all the events of what we call Holy Week they had long since decided that their savior had lost. Thus, they walked on the way that led away from what had happened to Jesus and towards a place called Emmaus. Scholars still cannot agree on where Emmaus is, it appears nowhere else in Scripture and was not even a blip on the ancient map, so honestly they were headed on the road to nowhere! And, as they went they looked back and missed all the clues that pointed to the Way. We may very well do the same thing as they did and as I did way back when.

Eventually a third person joined the walk to Emmaus. His question, “What are you discussing with each other while you walk along?” stopped them in their tracks. We can like Cleopas and the other disciple buzz along on our normal routes, like runners in the woods of life. Rarely, if ever, do we have reason to pause. Rarely, if ever, do we stop such that we feel the sting of life and love and loss. The question caused the men to stand still and feel their deep sadness. They were upset I think because they had hoped, but were let down. Even when the women from their group told them about the empty tomb that sorrow clogged the ears of their hearts. And so, they walked back towards nowhere, hoping now to forget all that had happened.

Often this is where we are walking even after Easter. It was where I felt like I was going when I felt the sting of life and love and loss. Christ is risen Alleluia! but there are still bills, wars, illness, conflict, poverty, famine, addiction, and everything else that causes us to toss and turn at night. As we walk we may be met by a stranger that causes us to stop for a moment, but even when someone professes the Truth of God’s saving love, even when our hearts burn in our chests, we may keep walking that road to nowhere, like Cleopas and his friend, for they did not recognize the stranger with them even during profound Scriptural study. And then, the stranger looked as though he might leave them. Cleopas and the other invited their co-journer to join them for a meal, a bit of southern hospitality shown way back in ancient Israel. What happens when we come together as strangers, neighbors, and friends to share a meal?

“When he was at table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him, and he vanished from their sight” (Luke 24:30-31).

As we head on the pathways away from Easter we may find ourselves lulled back into a false way of living, namely that life is supposed to be normal, like we are to just keep on keeping on. Jesus though meets us in the middle of our regular lives on the way to wherever it is we think we are going. As we begin to walk in the wake of the Resurrection we will meet strangers. When we invite them in to dwell with us at table we may very well be shocked to discover that together we see the Risen Christ. At this Table, God’s Table, we meet the Risen Lord, we bump elbows with Christ, we eat a meal with Christ, and we are fed by Christ. As much as we may feel lost running down the paths of this life, Christ comes to find us to bring us back together, and to walk with us on the paths that lead to new life.

There is no returning to normal life. When things feel at their worst we may want to rush back to a routine, and comfort, and security. Even when we think that our Savior has lost, we may be surprised as Christ shows up right next to us. As we break bread together may we see the Risen Lord among us, between us, and within us. Allow the light of the Resurrection to shine and to lead us into a transformed lives where we re-member the Body of the Risen Christ and run out to tell of this Good News!