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MORE THAN A MEMORY
"And their eyes were opened, and they knew him."
Since last Sunday's services went a bit over the usual hour, like about an hour and a half, of course for a very good reason, and since this morning we celebrate the commissioning of the 2008 Confirmation class (at the 11:00 am service) and Holy Communion at both services, I would like to be brief here this morning.
This walk to Emmaus is a classic event in the New Testament. The composer Weinberger wrote a solo cantata on the conversation of these gentleman as they made their way along the road. The outstanding feature of the story is the contrast between how it starts and how it ends. It has a down-beat beginning but an open-ended up-beat close.
Some forty-eight hours after the horror that we call Good Friday, two men set out from Jerusalem by foot for the village of Emmaus, about five or six miles distant. The name of one of them we know, Cleopas. The name of the other remains anonymous.
Neither was one of the original twelve, yet both were utterly cast down now that Jesus was dead. And why not? They had formed part of that company of ordinary men and women whose understanding of life, whose perception of what it's all about, was given new meaning and new depth of Jesus of Nazareth. Life for them had been lifted to new heights, off its hinges. But now, all they had were memories. "Thanks for the memories." But at least they had that. Ecclesiastical and political chicanery could take away their Christ, but no power on earth could take away their recollections. They had been with Jesus. Had heard him. Had seen him. Had touched him. Had meals with him. In the early hours of morning, in the heat of noon, and in the calm of eventide they were there.
To be sure, they had some terrible memories. The sounds of hammers on the nails, the cry of thirst and pain, the buzzing of flies, the final gasp. So, the best they knew to do was get out of town. Away from it all. And where did they go? They went to Emmaus. And where is Emmaus and why did they go there? It was no place in particular really, and the only reason they went there was that it was a few miles away from a situation that had become unbearable.
Fredrick Buechner asks the question, "Do you understand what I mean when I say that there is not one of us who has not gone to some Emmaus with them?" Emmaus can be a trip to the movies just for the sake of seeing a move, or to a cocktail party just for the cocktails. Emmaus may be buying a new suit or new car or reading a second rate novel or even writing one. Emmaus is whatever we do or wherever we go to make ourselves forget that the world holds nothing sacred; that even the wisest and bravest and loveliest decay and die; that even the most noble ideas that men and women have had - ideas about love and freedom and justice - have always in time been twisted out of shape by selfish people for selfish ends. Emmaus is where we go, where these two went, to try to forget about Jesus and the seeming failure of his life.
That's how the story opens.
But recall how it closes. On that very night, they make a complete turnabout and head back to Jerusalem. This time their pace is quick, almost running. Their hearts are light and very much at peace. Hazards of night travel are forgotten. A half-eaten meal is abandoned. Soul time has preempted clock time. They had something to tell the others. A gladness to share. Jesus had been with them. He was a presence. They had been repossessed by hope and optimism. Their future was wide open!
The story begins in gloom and climaxes in joy because along the road out of Jerusalem, they were overtaken and encountered by the living Christ! Incognito at first, he comes upon them and listens as they voice their inner grief. Then he asks, in effect, "is this a personal conversation or can anyone get into it? What is it that you are discussing?" Astounded that anyone could be in those parts and not know what was going on, they gently reprimand him. "Are you from some distant province, a stranger perchance, that you do not know what's been going on hereabouts in recent days?" He pretends ignorance: "What things?" They go on to tell, achieving what psychologists would call verbal therapy, articulating the exact nature of their disappointment. "We had hoped that it was he who would redeem Israel."
Still unknown to them, Jesus opens up the scriptures, and, after a gentle rebuke, addresses himself to that subject which sorely vexed their hearts, and bothers ours today, how One who is God's anointed could suffer. These two men along the road were sure that because he was the Christ of God, he should not have known pain and death. Jesus showed them that, because he was the Christ of God, he had to suffer and feel pain, because that's the way it is with love.
After a little bit of social gamesmanship, they draw near to the village. "Jesus acted as if he were going farther." He wanted an invitation to remain with them, but gestured as though to go on. They responded, playing the little game too. Their real interest was in hearing more from this intriguing stranger, but they could not say that openly. Instead, they appealed to nightfall. "Stay with us, for it is nearing evening; the day is almost over." "Abide with me; fast falls the eventide; the darkness deepens; Lord with me abide! When other helpers fail and comforts flee, help of the helpless, O abide with me."
Then comes the critical moment. They were having an evening meal. He took bread, blessed it, broke it, and gave it to them. And in that simple action their eyes were opened, and they knew him. And he vanished out of their sight.
We meet him in the common scenes of earth; a walk with a friend, the offer of hospitality to one in need, breaking bread at a meal, pondering the scriptures.
T.S. Eliot says it wonderfully:
Who is the third who walks always beside you?
When I count, there are only you and I together.
But when I look ahead up the white road,
There is always another one walking beside you.
Gliding wrapped in a brown mantle, hooded,
I do not know whether a man or a woman,
But who is that on the other side of you?"