From today’s Gospel, “While they were talking and discussing, Jesus himself came near and went with them, but their eyes were kept from recognizing him.”
Throughout our lectionary for today, there seems to be this running theme of eyes being opened, freshly received spiritual vision, and new truths being revealed and learned.
The Collect prayer, for example, is a plea for spiritual vision, so we may, individually and as church, see Jesus, revealed in acts of redemption, acts of liberation from sin, death, oppression, any form of diminishment. Acts of redemption, acts of liberation which take place in the here and now, yours, mine, and that of the church.
The first lesson, from the Acts of the Apostles is an account of how the eyes of those in the crowd Peter was addressing were opened to their own role in the death of Jesus, to the power of His resurrection, and to the salvific consequences of such revelations, experienced and appropriated through repentance, and baptism.
The Epistle lesson, on the other hand, belongs in a wider argument from the first letter of Peter, for Christians to lead blameless lives, even if in the middle of social mockery or hostility, or worse, discrimination and even persecution.
It is their Christian faith, says the writer of the Epistle of Peter, what enables them to not lose sight of their inheritance, which lies well beyond the temporary powers and glories of this world and, more specifically so, the powers and glories of a “pagan” social reality in which the place of Christianity is questioned, mocked, or even brutalized, by competing political and religious loyalties and powers.
And, we just heard the Gospel according to Saint Luke, and its account of the encounter of two disciples with Jesus on the road to Emméus --how their eyes were opened both to the good news of salvation and forgiveness of sins brought about by the Christ, and to the ordinary, friendly presence of Jesus by their side.
And I want to reflect on this Gospel with you, if only briefly so. It is very tempting to hang onto every bit and turn of this Gospel lesson -its beauty and depth -but I will not go so far.
Our two disciples, our two Emméus hikers, are making their trip ‘on that same day’, on the very day of Jesus’ resurrection. This may well explain why they have such sparse details about the message from the women, or its meaning.
The events leading to the crucifixion, and indeed the life of Jesus himself, lie in their immediate past (they say “Jesus of Nazareth, who WAS a prophet”) and like the other disciples in Jerusalem, these two are still trying to make sense of it all.
These two disciples on the road to Emméus knew, and sure they knew, all sorts of chronological details about “Jesus of Nazareth, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people”. And, yet, they did not know. As the Gospel says, something prevented them from recognizing, Jesus.
Also, --if we think about it, this was a very ‘normal’, ‘ordinary’ scene, to be sure. If you look at the map of the route between Jerusalem and Emméus, in the last before page of your bulletins, even by modern standards, it is not a walk in the park, 7 to 9 hours in all -only half way Hamilton to Toronto, on the other hand.
By the way, apologies for the low definition of that map. It is a long walk, by all accounts. We don’t really know why they are on it. I guess they were just going to Emméus. And Jesus joins them on that road, and walks with them in their grief and confusion.
Seemingly, the appearance of Jesus to these two disciples was also overall ordinary -just as, if you remember from our Easter Sunday gospel, Jesus had looked ‘normal’, ordinary, to Mary Magdalene-- that neither knew it was Jesus who had come to meet them.
The last time any of them had seen him, Jesus was beaten, and bleeding. Now, here He was, glorified in a way that they could just not know who He was. How could anyone know, really?
As Jesus meets them, he does not dictate, but asks. He meets them, just like Jesus meets you and me and us all, just where we are.
And, while embracing them, even in their pain and confusion, Jesus goes on to open for them the Scriptures, a sort of holy teaching of the Law and the Prophets, which sets the stage, so to speak, for the shared meal.
But, as we know, it is the experience of gathering around bread, of sharing bread, blessed and shared --it is only this that, finally, opens their eyes to the revelation of the seemingly obvious, that it has been Jesus walking with them, all along.
This Gospel, just like Jesus to these two disciples, sneaks into our imagination and comes to speak, more than about an event on the road to Emméus, but even about the path of those who follow Jesus, and indeed the path of the Church. Yours and mine.
At the end of this service, we go out into the world, as the dismissal encourages us, to love and to serve. It is a road of sorts, with an intended destination, and a somehow discernable path. We read and examine and study the Scriptures that speak to and reveal the Christ, moved by faith, nourished by hope. We look ahead to Jesus, the consummation of our faith, and fix our eyes in his promise and glory. We live, and seek to do so in a godly fashion, in the world, in friendship to this reality in which God has planted us.
We struggle, no doubt, with our own blindness, with the twists in the road, with the past we don’t quite understand and the future we know nothing about. We sometimes struggle among ourselves.
Still, becoming one from our differences, we share our stories, and are even ready to put our faith in practice by welcoming the stranger, and sharing experiences, lodging, and food, with those whom we find, or those by whom we are found, and met, on the road.
It is the sharing of food, though, it is the enactment of common hopes and longings, it is the sacrament of abundance and access for all, what triggers our Jesus-detector, it would seem, and also that of the disciples on the road to Emméus.
The eucharist, the prologue to the heavenly banquet, the sacrament of equality and mutuality, is the sure sign for our being in the presence, being accompanied by, Jesus --under whatever form we might not otherwise recognize -be it bread and wine, or the very fellowship of the gathered community.
The sharing, the welcoming, the nourishing, in whatever language or ceremonial style, is a sure sign that Jesus is meeting us, even under the guise of folks who might not otherwise look or sound like the Jesus of the Gospels -let alone the Jesus of our cultural imagination.
Folks like you, and me, and the brother or sister who spoke to you last, the brother or sister who will join you in your own pilgrimage, or that of the church, and ask you, and us all, in love, or even in pain, if that is the case, ‘what is it that you are talking about?’.
As I was talking with the children, at the beginning of the service, it is not often easy to know how to recognize friends. And then how do we recognize ‘Super-friend Jesus’ -in others? What helps us see Jesus in others, even if it takes a long time for us to realize so?
Now, think about ¿what would help others see Jesus in you? And me? And us? Even if it takes time? Even if theology and Bible and sacraments, or your subject of choice, might not be the first item in our conversation? Or even if such are the only items in our sharing?
¿How to be Jesus to others, in this city, this neighborhood, this congregation, today, in our own context, without necessarily getting all christiansome about it, every time? Or, to put in in a different way, how to best follow saint Francis of Assisi’s admonition, “preach the Gospel, and use words, when necessary”, here where we are?
Our parish community, through the service and ministries of both its clergy and lay people, has been and wants to go on trying all of this, by hosting outreach groups, with new initiatives like community cooking, with the persisting desire to open ourselves, our building and our arms and our hearts, to those to whose encounter Jesus is calling us, and in fact, those in whom Jesus is indeed meeting us, making us one is the love, sacrifice, salvation, and wholesome human fellowship. Jesus, by whatever name, who is God made Guest, our friend on the road, and at the table.
Let us continue making it so. Thanks be to God. Amen. Alleluia.
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