Straight from the Heart

 

Luke24:13-35

The poet Gerard Manley Hopkins wrote a beautiful line: Christ plays in ten thousand places. And it seems to be so in the Easter season. In these days following the resurrection, it seems like he is everywhere at once. Better than when he was bound by human flesh! He is in the garden, in the upper room, at the lakeshore, on the road to Emmaus. Apparently, all at once.

Here we are still in the same day we were in two weeks ago. For you and me, the Easter lilies are starting to die back, and the jellybeans are all eaten. But the gospel still has us on the day of Christ’s resurrection.

One of the things that happened on this day was a couple of the disciples walking to a place called Emmaus. I wish I could tell you something about this place called Emmaus.

I have done some searching to learn something about this place, but I came up with nothing of use. Some have proposed that it is a place about seven miles northwest of the city of Jerusalem, known as el-Khubeibeh. Others have suggested it is a place about eight miles southwest of Jerusalem, known as Khurbet Khamasa. And there are other places that have been suggested. So one thing I know for sure is that we have no idea about Emmaus.

But it doesn’t really matter where Emmaus was. It doesn’t matter why they were walking there because it is more important that they are walking away from Jerusalem than that they are walking toward a place called Emmaus.

Cleopas and the other disciple are walking away from the scene of the crime. In the past three days they have been witness to fearsome things. Their teacher, Jesus, was taken from them, arrested by the Roman soldiers. Once in the hands of the soldiers, they surely knew that things were unlikely to get better. He was beaten, interrogated, beaten some more, then crucified.

He died, and a few of his followers asked permission to take his body down. They wanted to give him a decent burial. It is, perhaps, surprising that the authorities permitted his body to be taken. The Romans liked to keep bodies up in the crosses lining the road for a good long time, to make sure everyone saw what they could do.

He was buried on Friday afternoon. But they were hurried since the sabbath was upon them. They knew they would have to come back to finish the work later.

And they did. Before sunrise on the day after the sabbath, some of the women returned to the tomb. But incredibly, something else terrible had happened. His body was gone.

Imagine this for a moment. Consider your own experience with the burial of loved ones and try to imagine just how that felt.

It had to feel truly awful. However, even this, it seems, would not be enough. The women reported to the others that they had seen an angel who told them Jesus was alive. He was not in the tomb because he was alive.

Still, there were others who were saying the body had been stolen, or hidden. By whom? It depended on who you asked. It could have been grave robbers. Or it could have been some of his followers.

The disciples of Jesus had been on some wild roller coaster ride of emotion during these few days. For a brief moment it seemed as though everything ended on Friday afternoon when Jesus breathed his last. But their mourning was interrupted by these other events and reports.

One thing I am certain of, among all the things they were feeling there was fear. They were afraid of what had already happened, and they were afraid of what might happen next. They were afraid for their future.

And so, in fear, these two disciples are walking away from Jerusalem. But they are also just walking.

Walking is something we do when we have a lot to think about. When you have some big feelings to process. The action of walking, left foot, right foot, over and over actually helps your brain do the work of processing something hard. The rhythm, the symmetry, encourages healthy brain activity. It helps relieve stress and fear.

And we can be sure these two disciples had some stress, some fear, and a lot of stuff to think through. So they did what many of us would do – they walked. And they talked.

While they walked and talked someone came alongside them. A stranger, and whether he was welcome, I do not know. But when the stranger asked them, “What are you guys talking about?” they stopped dead in their tracks. Sad. And they proceeded to lay it all out for this stranger, the whole sordid story of all that had gone on in the past few days. It was painful to talk about, but they needed to talk about it.

The stranger’s response was surprising to them. “How slow of heart you are to believe,” he said.

When they arrived at Emmaus it was near evening. Somehow, they just didn’t want to take leave of this stranger, so they urged him to stay with them. Stay, eat with us, stay the night, for the day is almost ended.

And it was when they sat at table together, these three; and when the stranger took the bread and gave thanks and broke it and gave it to them – it was then that these two disciples recognized him. Jesus. And in that same instant, he was gone.

The disciples turned to each other in amazement. Now they were putting it together. Were not our hearts burning within us as we were walking and talking with him? Things are clicking into place. Now it didn’t matter that the hour was late, they ran back to Jerusalem to tell the others what had happened – that the Lord had been made known to them in the breaking of the bread.

And this, of course, is part of our story and part of our ritual. It is part of our identity. We often call ourselves people of the book, of the word. But as great as words are, they only take us so far. And then it becomes about what we do. What we do will carry us the rest of the way.

It is not just words but also actions that strengthen and deepen our faith. It is not just words but also actions that deepen and express our love. There is a point at which the power of faith and the power of love have to go beyond words. 

And so when we have big overwhelming feelings we might take a walk. When we have great joy we might run or dance. When we are in need of Christ’s presence, we have holy communion, the bread and the cup.

When the words were spoken, and the bread was broken, then their eyes were opened. Actions can break through where words are not quite enough. When we partake of the holy meal we are in his presence. Meet you at the table – I promise, is what he said. But I feel that this is something we don’t avail ourselves of enough. The bread of heaven, the cup of salvation, these are always nourishing to our souls, and I will take them any time they are offered.

This sort of reminds me of the story in the book of Acts where the apostle Philip encounters an Ethiopian on the road who needs someone to open the meaning of the scriptures to him. So Philip does just that. Then the Ethiopian wants to be baptized. He points to a body of water nearby and says to Philip, “Look – here is water. What is to prevent me from being baptized?”

What, indeed.

Well, we have rules about the administration of the sacraments, which are meant to prevent their misuse. But the rules are not meant to limit our access to these life-giving and life-sustaining elements.

When we gather together to share the Lord’s Supper, we know that Jesus is right there with us. Christ plays in ten thousand places, and the table is definitely one of them. This is one place he has promised to always meet us. Just as he was there with the two disciples on the road, he is there with us whenever we gather at the table. Watch, next time. Watch and perhaps you will see. As we share the bread and the cup, you may see him as a spark that lights between us. As you look in someone’s eyes, you may feel Christ’s presence between you. Heart to heart.

Words are necessary, I know this is true. But just as necessary are the actions of faith. There comes a point where our actions are just what is needed to give life to our faith. Things will click into place and we will know. The actions of faith are sacred, because they come straight from the heart.