It is still the same day – resurrection day – Easter day. Today, God is present and near. Jesus is at the table sharing the meal, connecting us to one another and sending us out to be his hands and feet and heart in the world.
It was still the same day – resurrection day – the first Easter day – it is all fresh and chaotic and completely unbelievable. Rumors were flying – the spin machines of the empire and the establishment were churning – the disciples and followers of Jesus were either hunkering down or getting out of Dodge – nothing was normal – nothing was business as usual anymore.
It was still the same day. A day that would not, could not be forgotten – especially for the two disciples on their way to Emmaus – walking those seven miles from Jerusalem. I imagine them speaking in hushed tones, keeping a low profile as they made their way home.
What happens next is actually something that I wonder and worry about for me, for us – namely, being blind to God’s presence and power in our midst. Those two disciples on the road – for whatever reason are unable to see what or who is right there in front of them – Jesus hidden in plain sight.
How often, I wonder, is it the same for us? A blindness that keeps us from trusting in that bigger picture of God at work in our lives and in the world.
And so, as the walk to Emmaus continues, I love how Jesus, who they still don’t recognize – I love how he calls them out – Jesus saying to them:
“Oh, how foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe…” (Luke 24:25)
I feel like Jesus is speaking directly to us. For we are a skeptical people – we resonate with the story of the disciple Thomas from last week. We want verifiable evidence. We want proof. And even then, we can be hesitant, we can be “slow of heart” as Jesus accuses.
You know, it is interesting. When we gather to worship, we often confess our sins together right at the beginning of the service – and we might wonder why do we do that or why is it even necessary? After all, we are good people, we live good lives, our sins are pretty minimal.
While all of that may well be true, our confessions are not just about our actions, but also the ways in which we fail to act – the ways we fail to care for one another – the ways we fail to steward the resources God has given us. And on and on.
The Emmaus disciples were blinded by their mistaken expectations about what God was doing in Jesus – and it may well be that we are too. We may find ourselves focused on us – on our lives – on what God is doing right here.
But that’s not it. And thankfully, God doesn’t leave us there. Instead, God is trying to get us to expand our vision – inviting us to look up – to feel the pull into the world to share the message of resurrection and new life. To share the experience of grace and compassion, of mercy and peace.
Often with God, the invitation happens in the ordinary of life as it did in Emmaus.
When Jesus was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him… (Luke 24:30-31)
It was precisely when Jesus “broke the bread” that their eyes were opened.
This morning we are celebrating the first communion of three of our young members – Kristian, Alexander and Matthew.
Now, I am always curious as to what communion means to people. I think when we are young and first receiving – it is really something we finally “get” to do. We’ve been watching everyone else for-ever and now it is our turn too.
As we grow older – perhaps the meaning changes – ebbs and flows depending on what is happening in our lives and around us. As I told the first communion families in our class this past week, I think about the opportunity to serve this meal as a real privilege. In that moment, for people, there can be tears and profound sadness – there can be joy barely contained – there can be an expression of deep gratitude and thanks. All of it in response to hearing those words: the body of Christ broken for you – the blood of Christ shed for you.
For my part, as I have gotten older, more and more, when we share this meal together, I feel the connectedness – the connectedness to you and to our life together – connectedness to all those who have gone before us – connectedness to all those who gather today, who gather this week all over the world to hear God’s promises, to receive and taste for themselves the goodness of God – all those who are also called out into their communities, into their neighborhoods to share grace and hope and life.
For the story of Jesus does not end at that table in Emmaus – it continues on in the witness of Scripture – it continues on with each recognition of God at work in the world – it continues on and is renewed each time bread is broken and wine is shared, each time those words given and shed for you are spoken.
You see, it is still the same day – resurrection day – Easter day. Today, God is present and near. Jesus is at the table sharing the meal, connecting us to one another and sending us out to be his hands and feet and heart in the world.
Let us pray: God of new life and resurrection, we are thankful for the gifts of your table, for the gift of this community, and for Jesus revealed to us through your word. Give us eyes that recognize your presence in our midst. Give us ears that respond to your call to serve. And give us hearts that respond to the needs of the people we meet on whatever road we travel. In Jesus’ name we pray. Amen.
Rev. John Berg
Gloria Dei Lutheran Church
Northbrook, IL