Emmaus Road — Andy James

Companions Along the Way

May 4, 2014 By Andy James

a sermon on Luke 24:13-35
preached on May 4, 2014, at the First Presbyterian Church of Whitestone

It started out as a simple Sunday afternoon journey, a way to ease back into a routine after a devastating week, a step toward finding a new normal after the death of a cherished friend and beloved teacher. But when those two disciples set out from Jerusalem to Emmaus on that first Easter afternoon, they had no idea that they would encounter such a companion along the way. By then they had heard the rumblings of resurrection from a couple women who had visited the tomb, but they clearly didn’t trust that news—it was pretty unbelievable in the first place, and on top of that, it came from unreliable sources—women!

Their conversation along the road surely started out with some sadness and pity, though I suspect that it quickly turned to discussion of what was next for them now that Jesus, the man who had brought them together, was dead. In the meantime, though, it had to be good for them to have each other as companions along the way, to be with even one other person who had known Jesus and his teaching, who had been a part of the joyous procession just a week before, who had watched as he was led away to be crucified, who had witnessed his execution at the hands of the religious and political authorities of the day. So they talked and walked together, sharing their grief and sorrow and confusion and hurt, airing their feelings with each other, lifting up all the things that had happened in those days.

Then a strange man overheard their conversation and joined in. “What are you talking about?” he inquired. They were stunned. He had clearly overheard part of their conversation, but he didn’t know what had been going on? How could he not have heard about what happened to Jesus? How could anyone in Jerusalem not have been aware of this injustice? They “stood still” and stopped in their tracks, overcome with even more grief. But soon they found the words to explain to this stranger everything that had happened to Jesus—the proclamation of the kingdom of God that he offered, his strange arrest and conviction, his crucifixion and death, and now the empty tomb.

Having heard all this that was making them sad, the stranger offered a surprising word. Rather than just moving along beyond the grieving friends on the road or comforting them with simple platitudes, he explained everything that had happened. Even though he had not heard about the events of the past week, he took their few details and put them into the bigger story of God’s work. So as they walked on toward Emmaus from Jerusalem, these three found themselves as new companions along the way as this stranger opened the scriptures to the two disciples, explained how all that had happened was in fulfillment of the prophets, and described how the Messiah had to suffer in order to be glorified.

After an enlightening afternoon of conversation among new friends, the time came to stop again. The two disciples had reached Emmaus, their destination, and the stranger who had joined them was prepared to go on, but they encouraged him to stop a little longer: “Stay with us, because it is almost evening and the day is now nearly over.” It was a different day and age, with little or no light to guide and protect those who traveled at night, so it was certainly time to bring the day’s journeys to an end, and the stranger agreed to stick around with his new companions on the way.

As they sat down together for dinner, the stranger offered the blessing over the bread, then he broke it and gave it to them to eat. Suddenly they realized that this stranger they had met on the road was no stranger at all: he was Jesus. The man who had eased their minds about everything that had happened was none other than the crucified and risen Lord. The new companion along the way who broke bread with them that night had done the same thing just three nights before. Before they could really say anything more, the stranger disappeared from their sight, but they knew exactly what had happened: Jesus was alive! The rumors of resurrection were realities, and they had spent the afternoon with him without even knowing it.

Even though it was evening and time to settle in for the night, they got up and ran back to Jerusalem. They found the disciples gathered together, already celebrating because Peter had seen the risen Lord, and all of them together rejoiced because Jesus had been made known to them in the breaking of the bread.

Following after these disciples, we too now expect to find Jesus made known to us in the breaking of the bread. This is why we gather at this table each and every Sunday during the season of Easter, for we trust that just as the risen Christ met his disciples at the table on that first Easter evening, we too will meet him in this holy meal here. But I think this story also reminds us that we will meet Jesus at other times, too—in those who walk a little way with us on the journey, in those who open the scriptures to us, in those who make our hearts burn with love along the way, in those who show us the mercy and grace and peace of our risen Lord in their words and actions each and every day, in such varied companions along whatever way is before us in these days.

I had several of these encounters in my life over the past week. On Thursday, as I drove back from a meeting in Philadelphia, my heart sank as I learned from Beth and Bill of the water damage in the office that has occupied my life pretty well over the last several days. I spent almost the entire trip back on the phone, dealing with insurance companies and the water damage remediation firm to address the mess. In the midst of it all, though, there were strange companions on the way: first Beth and Bill who worked to address the immediate problem and then stayed at the church with me through the evening as the remediation crew worked, then two close friends who listened to my complaints and uncertainties as I made my way along the New Jersey Turnpike back to Queens, also the gentle and secure presence of our insurance broker, the representative from the water damage firm who called me before I could call him, and even one of the cleanup crew who offered us a blessing after spending two hours cleaning up the mess. In these and others, I had companions for the journey, reminders of God’s presence who made it clear that the frustrations and complications of those moments were not the end of the story, glimpses of the risen Christ in everyone who walked even a little way with us.

There are innumerable such companions who join with us along the way. Those who have walked these past few days with me are only a few of the many saints who have shown me glimpses of the risen Christ over the years, and I trust that you too have had similar encounters along the journeys of your lives. As we make our way to share this feast this morning, I invite you to think of those who have journeyed with you along the way, women and men who have shown you a little glimpse of the risen Christ in our world, and then to lift them up by name or by action as we gather our prayers together at the table so that we might give thanks for the presence of the risen Christ in our midst all the more.

So as this Easter season continues, may we too be strengthened by the companions along the way so that we might walk in faith, hope, and love all our days and see and show the presence of the risen and living Christ everywhere we go until he comes again. Lord, come quickly! Amen.

No Ordinary Journey

April 7, 2013 By Andy James

a sermon on Luke 24:13-35 for the Second Sunday of Easter
preached on April 7, 2013, at the First Presbyterian Church of Whitestone

It started out as just an ordinary journey, two of the disciples walking about seven miles from Jerusalem to the nearby village of Emmaus on a Sunday afternoon. But it was not an ideal time to make the trip. Passover celebrations were in full swing in the city, and people were coming and going everywhere. Others were catching up on trips that they had postponed for a day due to the Sabbath. And the disciples were still somewhat shocked and saddened by the strange events that had swirled around them just a couple days before as their friend and teacher Jesus had been tried and executed by the religious and civil authorities of Jerusalem.

That morning before they left, though, some of the women who had accompanied them along the way reported that the tomb where they had laid him on Friday was empty. Most everyone felt that this was pretty silly, really—an idle tale—it was time to get on with life and put Jesus behind them. So the two disciples began that day’s journey as a pretty normal walk along a familiar road, with their spirits somewhat subdued by the grief and pain that were still in the air even as they started to think about how they would go on with life without Jesus.

Along the road, a stranger eased his way into their conversation. He asked them what they were talking about and why they were so sad as they walked along the way. Apparently he had not heard of the events of Thursday and Friday, so they brought him up to speed as they walked and talked. But this stranger didn’t share their sadness at the death of their friend and teacher. Instead, he suggested that this person, this Messiah, had come for this very reason, to experience these very things, to suffer and die and then enter into his glory. He wasn’t worried that the tomb had been found to be empty—instead he suggested that this was all exactly as God had intended and very much in line with all that Moses and the prophets had said over the centuries. The conversation with this stranger made the seven miles on the road pass quickly for the two disciples, and what had seemed to be an ordinary walk from Jerusalem to Emmaus started to become something to remember.

Like the disciples, I’m quite a fan of a good walk. A brisk walk remains my preferred way to get exercise, even though I certainly do it far less than I should! On nice days like we’ve finally started having recently, there’s nothing quite like a good walk to clear my mind and get a little blood flowing. And there’s no better way to restore my spirit after some busy days than to share a walk around New York City with a good friend. Most of my walks are pretty unremarkable, really—I don’t expect to have a grand epiphany of life that helps me to understand God and the world better or run into someone who will change my life. Normally they are just ordinary journeys, a way to get from point A to point B and give me some time to clear my head and assess the day before I dive back in to the busyness of the world.

By the time those two disciples and the stranger who walked with them got to Emmaus, it seemed to have been a pretty ordinary journey, save for the especially good conversation with the stranger that had helped take their mind off their grief and sorrow. As the disciples started to head into the village for the night, the stranger who had walked with them prepared to continue on to his destination, but it was late, so the disciples invited him to stay the night and join them for a little more conversation. When they sat down for dinner, the stranger “took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them.”

In this moment, something happened. As he broke the bread, as this guest took on the role of host, this stranger was no longer unknown. The two disciples realized that they had known this man all along. They had not been talking with a stranger all day—they had been talking with Jesus. Not only that, the reports of the empty tomb were true—Jesus was alive! But then just as quickly as they had realized that it was Jesus with them, “he vanished from their sight.” It had indeed been no ordinary journey after all—they had spent the afternoon with Jesus without even knowing it!

That walk from Jerusalem to Emmaus was pretty incredible—it’s nearly impossible to beat that kind of a story! Even when I look back on the best conversations I’ve had while walking, none of them even begin to measure up to what the disciples experienced! But this extraordinary journey can still illuminate even the most mundane walks in our lives. Like the disciples, we can share our hopes and dreams and struggles and fears with those who walk with us along the road. Like the disciples, we might just meet someone unexpected who can help us understand where we have been and where we are going. And like the disciples, we might just encounter God in strangers we meet along the way.

Even when things are pretty normal and uneventful along our journeys, we can trust that God is working to prepare our hearts and minds for whatever encounter is ahead for us, that God is walking with us along the varied roads of our lives and opening our eyes to the fullness of the divine presence just when we need to recognize this new thing in our midst. Because of this incredible encounter on the road to Emmaus and at table with Jesus, we can trust that even our most ordinary journeys can be filled with the wonder and grace and mystery of our God who is made known to us in the breaking of bread.

This extraordinary journey was not over for the disciples. They had to get back to Jerusalem as quickly as they could. They had seen the Lord, and they had to let everyone else know about it, even if it was late, the road dark, and their bodies tired. By the time they got back, reports were streaming in from near and far of encounters with Jesus—not only had the women seen an empty tomb, not only had they talked with Jesus all afternoon along the road, Peter had seen him too! Their return to Jerusalem was no ordinary journey—even though it was the same road they had walked just a few hours before, their sorrow had turned to joy. They were ready to celebrate the resurrection and figure out what was next for them as they kept following Jesus along this new road together.

And so as we too go our way on the roads of life, as we walk the Emmaus roads of our world with friends and strangers and even on our own, as we gather and go forth from this table of joy where we trust that we will meet our risen Lord, God calls us to trust that all these are no ordinary journeys. All our lives are holy encounters with God, where anyone we meet might show us the face of God, where any meal we share might help us to see our dining companions in a new light, where every step we take helps us to see God’s new creation a little more clearly and shows us how we can join in, where we are called to proclaim the wonder of resurrection to our world that is so afraid of death.

And so as we gather at this table today, may God open our eyes to see the risen Christ present among us so that we might rise to serve and show his risen life to others and prepare to meet him on the extraordinary journey ahead. Thanks be to God. Amen.

Did You See Him?

April 15, 2012 By Andy James

a sermon on Luke 24:13-36 for the Second Sunday of Easter
preached on April 15, 2012, at the First Presbyterian Church of Whitestone

Last Sunday, as you may remember, we heard a very tentative Easter proclamation from the gospel according to Mark. The faithful women who had gone to anoint Jesus’ body fled from the tomb in fear and amazement after finding it empty and hearing that Jesus had been raised. Last Sunday, I suggested that this Easter story at least is something of a divine game of “Where’s Waldo?” where we have to keep our eyes open for Jesus in the world – so I want to start out this week by checking in. Did anyone see Jesus this week? Does anyone have a story of encountering Jesus that they would like to share this morning? I hope you’ll share your observations in the comments.

I suspect that as many of us as saw Jesus right away had a really hard time finding him in our lives, and if we have struggled to see Jesus this week, we are not alone. In our reading this morning from the gospel according to Luke, we hear about two disciples who were struggling to see Jesus – until he actually showed up with them! After learning that Jesus was not in the tomb, the disciples weren’t quite sure what to do, so they kept on with their normal tasks for the first day of the week. Two of them began a brief journey to Emmaus, a village about seven miles from Jerusalem.

As they walked and talked about the events of that very saddening week, a stranger along the road joined in the conversation. He acted as if he knew nothing about the distressing things that they were discussing, but soon this seeming stranger jumped in with his own take on everything that had happened. He suggested that there was a lot more to Jesus’ death than they had originally understood. He told them that the Messiah would have to suffer as Jesus did if he was to receive the glory they wished for him, and he helped them to see how Jesus was connected to all the things that they had learned before from scripture.

As the two disciples reached Emmaus, the stranger who had joined them along the way said that he would keep going on the road, but they urged him to stop with them:

Stay with us, because it is almost evening and the day is nearly over.

When he joined them inside, they sat at table together and began to share a meal. He took the bread at dinner, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them, and then they realized that it was none other than the risen Jesus who had been with them all day long! Even though he disappeared right away, they knew who it was, and so they hurried back to Jerusalem – seven miles in the dark, along a dangerous road! – to tell the other disciples.

The stories of encountering Jesus continue all around us. We see Jesus in so many different ways, when we look in the eyes of a stranger, when we offer the gift of presence in the midst of despair, when we share time with beloved friends, when we seek to serve those who are in great need. All the stories of encountering Jesus we have heard this morning and experienced in our lives remind us that Christ is risen, that Jesus is still on the loose in our world, that death does not and will not have the last word, that God is not done with us yet. And every time we gather at this table to share even the simplest of meals, we trust that we will see Jesus again, that he will be made known to us too in the breaking of bread.

My friend Ben, a pastor in North Carolina, told me his own story this week about seeing Jesus. The church where he serves has supplied food to feed hungry students and their families at a local elementary school where his wife teaches. Over the years, they have realized that many children get their only good meals of the day at school, and the weekend for them means less a break from their studies and more the loss of healthy meals for two days. Before Easter, Ben’s wife told him about how Jesus had shown up along the way. The mother of a first grader who gets a bag of food each week came to the office one day to ask why her child was bringing a bag home each week. When the office explained the food was for the family for the whole weekend, the mother had a curious look on her face – the bag had been coming home nearly empty, just a bag of rice and one caned good. They discovered that her daughter had been giving the food away to her classmates on the bus ride home, because she thought they needed food, too, and that the gift she had been given was worth sharing.

The gift of the risen Jesus among us is like that. He shows up in unexpected places – in strange walks and talks with the disciples along that Emmaus road, in the experiences we have shared, at the table where we will soon gather, and in the wonderful simplicity and giving of a child who is as concerned about others as she is about herself.

May we keep seeing Jesus all around us in this Easter season and beyond. Alleluia! Amen.