"Walking Blind on the Road to Emmaus"
Act One begins abruptly: “Now on that same day two of them were going to a village named Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem” (13). We are told nothing else about these travelers. The greater context suggests that they belong to a larger group that had followed the movements of Jesus during his ministry. The first act of our story concerns their conversation on the road to Emmaus, on the evening of the first day of the week, the day of Jesus’ resurrection.
The Greek, however, implies something more. Our two travelers are not simply talking. They are deliberating. Something is deeply troubling them. The previous week’s events in Jerusalem had shaken their faith. Reports of an empty tomb that very morning served only to fuel their bewilderment.Try as they might, they cannot make sense of the nonsensical.
The next scene (if you will) sees Jesus entering our story. He walks up alongside our travelers and joins in on their conversation. Yet they do not recognize him. The way the text describes this immediately sparks the reader’s attention, particularly in its use of the passive voice: “...their eyes were kept from recognizing him” (16). What exactly kept their eyes
from recognizing him?
Here we find out that one of our travelers is called Cleopas. Cleopas is the incredulous one. He questions the stranger about his seeming unawareness of current events: “Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have taken place there in these days?” (18) The travelers then recount to the stranger the events of the previous week: how Jesus suffered at the hands of their chief priests and leaders, how he was condemned, and then later crucified. They also tell him about the rumors of an empty tomb, and of visions of angels that had appeared to “some women” announcing that Jesus was alive. Their dashed hopes are palpable: “We had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel” (21).
This news provokes a surprising rebuke from the stranger:“Oh, how foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have declared” (25). Then, beginning with Moses and the Prophets, the stranger begins to explain the scriptures to them, how they reveal that the Messiah had to suffer before entering his glory. Yet, even now, even as the scriptures are opened to them, our travelers still fail to recognize him. The possible reasons for this continue to gnaw at the reader. Was it something about his physical appearance? Did he look different? Were they blinded by profound grief?
Or, perhaps, had their shattered expectations simply gotten in the way of the view? The stranger’s rebuke hints at this last possibility. Their failure to recognize him on the road pointed to a much deeper failure: the failure to see in Jesus the embodiment of God’s kingdom in action, the failure to understand “that the Messiah should suffer these things and then to enter into his glory” (26). Consequently, they could not see Jesus, even as he walked beside them on the road.
Walking down this road should feel familiar to Christians. Dashed hopes, whether great or small, are far too often part of our own journey. At such times, we easily become dismayed and despondent. Nothing around us seems to make sense. We may feel that faith has failed us, that God has failed us, or that God is just disinterested. Even hope fails us. Like the travelers in our story, we let our shattered expectations get in the way of the view, and, as a consequence, fail to see the God who walks beside us on the road.
Act Two begins just as our travelers near their destination. Jesus walks on ahead, as if to continue his journey alone. But they urge him, instead, to stay with them because “it is almost evening and the day is now nearly over” (29). While sitting at table, Jesus takes bread, blesses and breaks it, and gives it to them. Suddenly they recognize him, and just as sudden he vanishes from their sight. This prompts them to reflect on their experience earlier that day, “Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?” (32)
In Luke’s gospel, eating is presented as the most characteristic activity of Jesus’ ministry, so much so that he was often called a glutton and a drunkard. The Eucharistic symbolism here is no accident either. Verse 30 tells us, “He took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them” -- words nearly identical to Luke’s description of Jesus’ actions over the bread and wine at the Last Supper (22:19). Should it surprise us, then, that our travelers finally recognize Jesus as he acts in the most “Jesus-like” manner? The recognition of Jesus at table, as he shares bread with his friends, perfectly segues into the third and final act of our story.
Act Three sees our two travelers rushing back at “that same hour” to Jerusalem. There they find the company of eleven and their other companions. But before they can tell their story the Eleven inform them, “The Lord has arisen indeed, and he has appeared to Simon!” (v. 34) This encourages them to tell their own story: how Jesus had met them on the road, how he opened the scriptures to their understanding, and how he was made known to them “in the breaking of bread.”
It is no accident that the three acts of our story correspond to the elements of Christian worship: (1) Proclamation, (2) Sacrament, and (3) Witness. But the similarities do not end there: the journey takes place on a Sunday; the scriptures are progressively opened to reveal God’s plan; the resurrection is proclaimed; Jesus is present where the “two or three” gather; he is made known “in the breaking of bread”; finally, his disciples are empowered to share their own story. These similarities are so apparent that many interpreters suspect that the practices of the early church directly affected how Luke told this story.
Corporate worship is our road to Emmaus: the setting where, I dare say, most of us came to faith, and where our faith in Christ continues to be nurtured and sustained. The call to worship is a call to embark on the same journey undertaken by our travelers in Act One: the opening up of the scriptures that the kingdom embodied by Jesus can "warm our hearts" and challenge us to bear witness to God’s love in this world.
But the call to worship is also a call to recognize Jesus in his most “Jesus-like” moments: sharing both bread and himself at table with his friends. Not merely the altar-tables of our churches, but the ordinary tables in the homes of ordinary people as well, demonstrated in the hospitality that his people show to the disenfranchised and dispossessed.
Indeed, Jesus made hospitality the most radical form of social activism, seen in the fact that he was frequently criticized for eating and drinking with the wrong sorts of people! Jesus showed how sharing a meal could break down cultural and social barriers, and his adversaries vilified him for it. They condemned him, and finally crucified him for it. Yet his example lives on in every invitation, every shared meal, every met need, and in every loaf of bread and cup of wine blessed in his Name, providing a glimpse of the transformative kingdom that embodied his earthly life, and attesting to the power of his resurrected life.
Our travelers may have begun their journey in confusion, blinded by their shattered expectations. But they ended their journey empowered with the story of how Jesus had been made known to them “in the breaking of bread.” And that’s where the real story begins.
Comments
Post a Comment