“And Then There Eyes Were Opened”
Luke 24:13-35 The Emmaus Story
April 30,2017—Belmont UMC
Ken Edwards, preaching
This is a beautiful and grace-filled story that causes us to think about our experiences with the Risen Christ and with the Easter event.
As I reread this story over the last few weeks, it occurred to me that John Wesley, the Father of Methodism, might have seen this story as a metaphor for prevenient grace—the unconditional love of God—that moves alongside of us in life, until one day when our eyes are open and we recognize it for ourselves. And we realize that God’s love has been there all along.
This is a story that enables us to bring Easter home with us—it is a story about Easter in our midst.In Israel,on the bus from the airport to Jerusalem, our guide pointed in the distance and said, “Archaeologists are searching in an area near here for the ancient town of Emmaus.” Then he told us that there are at least 3 places that are possible sites that claim to be the ancient site of Emmaus. Marcus Borg told us that that there is no record of a village called Emmaus in any ancient source. Borg said, “Emmaus is nowhere, Emmaus is everywhere.” He concluded that Emmaus was meant to be a metaphor for every town. (One wonders if Luke, who writes with great specificity, would write about a metaphorical town.)
But I think we are supposed to be drawn into this story, and we are. We are those disciples who journey accompanied by the Risen Christ, whose eyes need to be opened, who always recognize him in the sacramental act of breaking bread, and who find themselves filled with wonder in his presence. It is a story about presence, familiarity, relationship, and transformation.
And the Risen Christ walks with us to our towns and communities—to Edgehill and Edgefield, to Brentwood and Belleview, to Franklin and Hendersonville, to Mt.Juliet and Greenhills, to Oak Hill and Germantown, and just a few blocks down the street from here. The Risen Christ journeys with us always—even during those times when we fail to see him or when life is so difficult we lose sight of grace for a time. He is there. He is here.
This story evokes obvious questions: (1) Why the disciples did not recognize him? (2) What opened their eyes to a new reality? (3) Why are we often unaware of the presence of the Risen Christ? (4) What happened that opened our eyes to this reality?
Two of Jesus’ disciples walked along the road from Jerusalem to Emmaus. We try to put ourselves in their places and wonder how they felt about all that had happened in Jerusalem—the crucifixion and the stories of resurrection from some in their party of followers. Their world had been crushed by the crucifixion and the little band of followers were scattered toward homes and safer places.
While they walked along, they were joined by a “stranger” who asked what they had been discussing so intently. “Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have taken place?” Then they told the “stranger” the story of Jesus of Nazareth and concluded with, “And we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel.” They had hoped, hoped for so much, and dreamed about a new kind of world with him.
This stranger expounded the meaning of the prophets and how the Messiah must suffer and then enter into his glory.
Upon arriving in Emmaus, they persuaded him to stay with them for dinner, stay because the hour is late, and stay to continue their conversation. “When he was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed it and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him; and he vanished from their sight.”
They said to each other, “Were not our hearts burning within us. . .” and they found the others and told them “the Lord has risen indeed, and he has appeared to Simon!” and how he was made known to them in the breaking of bread.
Why did they not recognize Jesus?
One writer suggests that their eyes were miraculously inhibited. Another suggests a sunset walk—the glare of light in their eyes made seeing Jesus difficult. Various paintings from the Middle Ages depict this story with Jesus wearing a broad brimmed hat (the kind of hat people wore in the Middle Ages, but not in Israel in the First Century) making him incognito.
But the answerhas something to do with expectation. They did not expect to see Jesus alive. The disciples loved Jesus and followed him with great devotion, but all the gospels make it clear that they did not fully understand the way of his mission. They did not grasp (nor do we) the way God’s love and the way of the kingdom would be expressed through Jesus’ life an death. And they did not understand the resurrection until they came face to face with it. They had hoped he would redeem Israel, but they expected him to accomplish redemption in another way.
And the disciples never expected to see Jesus again. Neither did Mary who saw only a stranger in the garden. Or Peter, on the beach, who thought he was just another fisherman. But something, familiar broke through their understanding. Mary recognized his voice. Peter recognized his unique authority at catching fish. The two disciples in Emmaus recognized him as he broke and blessed the bread. That was all it took to open their eyes and changed the expectations of a lifetime.
Why do we not recognize the Risen Christ with us?That’s the take Easter home question!
At a class one Wednesday night we were discussing Bishop’s Schnase’s book, FivePracticesof Fruitful Congregations. The week we discussed Passionate Worship someone said rightly that we must come to worship with a spirit of expectation. Eyes open, ears open, hearts open, ready to receive what God is offering us during this hour in this place. A spirit of expectation changes how we experience worship.A spirit of expectation enables us to experience Christ and deepens our spiritual experience. We pray that each week, “Help us to be present in worship this day, even as you are present.”
But we must live with a spirit of expectation to experience the love and wonder of God’s presence in our lives. We go out into this world expecting to encounter the Risen Christ. I once heard a wonderful eulogy that said of one person, “He saw in each of us, however unlovely our lives, something, somewhere of Christ.”If we go out into this world with expectation, we will see the Risen Christ in others, in the many ways God seeks to break into our routine and mundane worlds.
The Emmaus disciples recognized Jesus in the breaking of bread, in the familiar, not the spectacular.
I recently helped with the memorial service of Bob Taylor, brother to Judy Ullrich and the late Sandra Taylor (both Belmonters who grew up here and whose parents were active in the church). When I came to Belmont 10 years ago Sandra and the custodian and I were usually the first ones here on Sunday morning. Sandra prepared the communion elements for the 8:15 service, which is a Communion Service every Sunday. Sandra never missed church and I was touched by her faithfulness.
A number of years ago Sandra began having problems with memory and there were subtle clues on Sunday mornings. She would forget something or she seemed a little off at times. We wanted Sandra to continue preparing the elements of communion so we took turns checking in with her on Sundays to see if she needed anything. Then someone came alongside her to help her. Then she became unable to drive and later she could no longer remember who we were.
But her siblings (often Bob or Judy) would bring her to early service. She would greet me and it was clear that I looked familiar to her but she could no longer call me by name. I’m sure the chapel was a familiar place to her as she sat quietly during worship. It was when she came forward and knelt at the chancel and the piece of bread was placed in her hand that her eyes would light up. At that moment she connected to what was happening. She knew the bread and the cup and grace broke through for her in such a beautiful way. I can recall Bob looking at her when she received communion and smiling and nodding at me because he was see what I was seeing.
At one church there was a little boy named Eric. Eric was differently-abled with autism and he rarely spoke. Sometimes Eric would have a difficult time during church and he would yell loudly and start to cry. A couple of women in the church who worked with children as Occupational Therapist would sometimes take Eric and work with him during worship so Eric’s parents could worship and have a break. The only time Eric ever connected with me and became completely quiet and settled was when he came up to the front and received the bread and cup of Holy Communion. He would look me in the eye and smile and walk away.
I cannot explain why this happened. And I’m ok with some things in my life being unknown and unknowable. After receiving Holy Communion we pray these words, “Eternal God, we give you thanks for this holy mystery in which you have given yourself to us.” This is holy mystery and grace breaking through in ways that we cannot explain, except God knows and God understands and that is enough.
I pray you are having those holy and mysterious moments when you become aware that Jesus is walking with you in your spiritual life.
When we come to this table and break this bread, we experience the Risen Christ. When we sit at home and break bread with our family, or across the table from a Room in the Inn guest, at a restaurant with a good friend, sharing a snack with a Brighter Days child, here in this church, out in the suburbs, wherever we are the Risen Christ comes among us and our eyes are opened.
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