On the Road & Burning Hearts

Luke 24:13-35

Now on that same day two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem, and talking with each other about all these things that had happened. While they were talking and discussing, Jesus himself came near and went with them, but their eyes were kept from recognizing him. And he said to them, "What are you discussing with each other while you walk along?" They stood still, looking sad. Then one of them, whose name was Cleopas, answered him, "Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have taken place there in these days?" He asked them, "What things?" They replied, "The things about Jesus of Nazareth, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, and how our chief priests and leaders handed him over to be condemned to death and crucified him. But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel. Yes, and besides all this, it is now the third day since these things took place. Moreover, some women of our group astounded us. They were at the tomb early this morning, and when they did not find his body there, they came back and told us that they had indeed seen a vision of angels who said that he was alive. Some of those who were with us went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said; but they did not see him." Then he said to them, "Oh, how foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have declared! Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into his glory?" Then beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them the things about himself in all the scriptures. 

As they came near the village to which they were going, he walked ahead as if he were going on. But they urged him strongly, saying, "Stay with us, because it is almost evening and the day is now nearly over." So he went in to stay with them. When he 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; and he vanished from their sight. They said to each other, "Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?" That same hour they got up and returned to Jerusalem; and they found the eleven and their companions gathered together. They were saying, "The Lord has risen indeed, and he has appeared to Simon!" Then they told what had happened on the road, and how he had been made known to them in the breaking of the bread.

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We’re nearing the end of our “On the Road Again” series, so it’s fitting that today’s story is about Jesus’ last road trip before his ascension. This Emmaus road story is probably a familiar one, especially since Pastor Mark preached on this story a couple months ago. But this time the story hits me in a different way--as a message of hope and a reminder that God is always speaking to us.

I want to begin by telling you about my watch. A couple Christmasses ago my wife bought me a Garmin smartwatch. I don’t utilize 10% of what it is capable of; I just use it to tell time and keep track of my daily steps. 

I quickly allowed that watch to determine my worth as a human being. Each night before I got into bed I would check my watch to see if I hit the magic total of 10,000 steps. Anything under 10,000 and I felt like I was a failure. Anything over and I felt like I couldn’t have possibly been a more fantastic human being that day. As far as measures of a man go, it was a pretty weak one; but at least it was quantifiable (unlike those other measures like character and relationships).

It should be noted, I did employ some mind games in relation to my daily step count. I noticed that I was not getting credit for steps when I mowed the grass (I guess that’s because I have a push mower and my hands are steady the whole time). Same thing when I went grocery shopping with a cart...no credit for those steps. So, on those nights when my count was under 10,000 I would mentally bridge the gap with whatever arbitrary value I needed. 

What really hurt was when I discovered that the opposite was true; that is, my watch was giving me credit for steps that I knew deep down I did not earn. This was made explicitly clear following a drive to Chicago. I left early in the morning, not having gone for a walk before I left. I stepped out the car, glanced at my watch to double check I arrived on time, and noticed my step count had surpassed 5,000 for the day. Apparently my car needs new struts because the vibration convinced my watch I had been walking while in the car. I ended up with over 10,000 steps total that day; and as much as I tried to own it, I heard the little voice inside my head tell me my steps were a lie!

This watch is incapable of giving me an accurate reading of my actual steps, but it is pretty accurate with regards to my soul. Ever since I have owned and worn this watch, a little voice in my head has been telling me that not only was the step count not accurate, but also that it was counting things that ultimately didn’t matter. That’s not to say movement and activity is unimportant, but that certainly does not correlate with character.

I think about this when I read about the two Christ-followers who were on the road to Emmaus, all the while accompanied by Jesus himself, though they did not know it. The two characters were so focused on the wrong things (namely their disappointment and grief) that they missed the presence of Jesus. And yet, once Jesus was revealed to them in the breaking of the bread, one says, "Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?"

You see, we all have little voices and burning hearts desperately trying to crack through the surface of our thoughts, but our egos go to great lengths to keep them submerged. These little voices and burning hearts are one of the significant ways that God speaks to us. God gives us permission, even encourages us, to pay attention to the whispers of our own burning hearts.  

In the story about my watch, my little voice and burning heart-whispers were telling me to stop lying to myself about the steps; that they were not a measure of my success or value as a person. 

In the story of the Emmaus road, the little voices and burning heart-whispers were telling them that Jesus was still among them, physically and materially, even though he had died. 

I am confident that each one of you has a little voice and a burning-heart whispering profound, beautiful, and God-given truths to you. I am confident that each one of you, like me, and like those two on the road, usually fail to hear or heed them, often because you are too busy paying attention to the loud voices of your selfish desires or distorted impressions of yourselves. 

Think back to a recent argument or conflict in which you were engaged with someone else. At any point did you hear a voice whispering, “You can let this one go; you can walk away; you can be right and not have to prove it by tearing the other person down.” But instead your pride and ego took hold, your heels dug in, and the conflict lingers still today. Please tell me I’m not the only one this happens to!

Think back to a recent time in which your thoughts were stuck on all the ways you are a failure or a disappointment. Maybe your first reaction was to numb yourself from that pain by watching another hour of television, scroll mindlessly through social media, stuff yourself with junk food, or pour yourself another glass of alcohol. In the midst of that, did you ever hear your burning heart whisper the truth that you were actually a beloved image-bearer of the divine and worthy of love and respect? 

For some reason our negative and damaging thoughts carry more weight in our minds than positive ones. That is as true for us as it was back in Biblical times. The Emmaus travelers had faith in the good news that Jesus was alive; however, their disappointment and focus on the situation at hand kept that truth buried. It’s easy to let the bad stuff build up on the surface of our lives so much that it is all we end up noticing.

But hear the good news: those “good news” whispers became shouts and their burning hearts became raging fires of the Spirit through something as simple as the sharing of a meal after a long journey. 

The two travelers had ventured far enough away from Jerusalem, far enough away from the center of their disappointment and pain, that Christ was able to break through to them through something as ordinary as a shared loaf of bread. 

It took those travelers a 7-mile journey on foot. It took me a 200-mile shaky car ride. I don’t know how much distance you will need to put between yourself and all the lies you tell yourself; but I do know that God will break through the surface and fan the flame of your heart that had all along been burning with the knowledge and love of God. I’m not suggesting that you need to run away from your problems to solve them; but a little road trip often yields just enough perspective to see things for what they really are. 

Amen. 

Master Class on the Emmaus Road

Luke 24:13-35

That same day two of his disciples were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem and they were talking about all the things that had taken place there. Suddenly, Jesus himself came near and went with them but their eyes were kept from recognizing him. He said to them, “What are you discussing as you walk along?” They stood still, looking sad. Then one of them, whose name was Cleopas, answered him saying, “Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know about the things that have taken place there in these days?” Jesus said to him, “What things?”

They said, “The things about Jesus of Nazareth, who was a prophet mighty in word and deed before God and all the people. And about how our chief priests and leaders had him handed over to be condemned to death and crucified him. But we had hoped he would be the one to redeem Israel. Moreover, some women from our group went to the tomb early this morning and when they did not find his body there, they came back and said that they had indeed seen a vision of angels who said that he was alive. Some men from our group went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said, but they did not find him.”

Jesus said to them, “How foolish you are and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets had declared. Was it not necessary for the Messiah to suffer in this way and then enter into his glory?” Then, beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted for them the things about himself in all the scriptures.

When they came near the village to which they were going, Jesus walked ahead of them as if he were going on. But they urged him strongly, saying, “Stay here with us. For the day is almost over and night has come.” So Jesus went in and stayed with them. While he was at the table with them, he took bread, broke it and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened and they recognized him. And he vanished from their sight.

That very hour, they got up and returned to Jerusalem. They found the eleven and their friends and they were saying, “He is alive and he has appeared to Peter.” Then they told them about what had happened on the road and about how he had been made known to them in the breaking of the bread.

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I love this walk to Emmaus story. It might be one of my favorites and I’ve talked about it before as a microcosm or a snapshot of our faith’s journey in the world because it just holds so much emotion and theology and references to the Scriptural narrative. I mean, we don’t get to hear it all, but we’re told that Jesus interprets for his friends the things about himself in ALL of Scripture, it happens just after the resurrection, and right before “he is made known to them in the breaking of bread.” There’s just so much to chew on and to choose from and to wonder about in this story.

Again, all of this takes place just after Easter’s resurrection with these two sad, broken, pitiful souls leaving Jerusalem with their tails between their legs, spiritually decimated by what they witnessed on Good Friday and because they hadn’t yet heard the rest of the story.

And then he shows up, unannounced and unrecognizable to their weary eyes and broken spirits. Maybe Jesus was in disguise, afraid of what might happen if the wrong people recognized him. Maybe their eyes were swollen shut and filled with tears. Maybe they were all wearing masks, covering their mouths and noses, to keep from spreading a virus, who knows?

Whatever the case, they tell this supposed stranger what they know and how they feel about all that had just happened to their friend, Jesus, from Nazareth – how he was crucified, died and was buried, even though they thought he was going to be the one to redeem Israel; to fix everything and save the day. And then he tells them what he knows – and what they should have remembered – if they’d been paying attention: all the prophecies and predictions and promises about the coming of the Messiah, from throughout the Hebrew Scriptures. And then they invite him over for dinner and ask him to stick around for the night, rather than to keep walking to wherever he may have gone next.

And that’s when they recognize him – at the table… over dinner… in the breaking of the bread and, presumably, in the sharing of some wine. Jesus breaks bread with them and they finally see him for who he is – their Messiah, their salvation, their forgiveness, their redemption, their reason for living in this life and for the next.

But I want to back up for a minute – or maybe about seven miles, according to the story – and I want to wonder, in a different way, about this bit of Luke’s Gospel and this experience with Jesus, outside of Jerusalem, with those two, otherwise unknown disciples. I don’t want to wonder so much about the broad scope of this story and all it may have to say about the sweeping narrative of Scripture or about how it may apply to the grand experience of our faith’s journey. I don’t even want to talk about what I THOUGHT I was going to talk about today – how it speaks to the significance of Holy Communion for the practice of our faith. I’ve done that before a handful of times, and we’ll share communion later, because of it.

But I found myself wondering instead, this time around, about the simple act and example of patience, humility, and compassion Jesus showed to those disciples on the road that day. And how that’s a pretty practical, holy lesson for all of us, still.

See, these two friends Jesus meets on the Road to Emmaus weren’t part of the original twelve, closest followers of Jesus. All of them, those twelve, I mean – minus Judas Iscariot, of course – were holed-up in a room somewhere, back in Jerusalem. So these two – Cleopas who isn’t mentioned anywhere else in all of Scripture and his pal who isn’t even worthy of a name, apparently – couldn’t have been a part of that inner circle.

So maybe these two are followers on the fringe; late-comers to the Jesus movement. Maybe they didn’t get to sit at the table with the cool kids, like Peter, James, John, or Mary.

Maybe these two weren’t all-in on this Jesus of Nazareth thing, yet … you know, they’d been curious, found him interesting, showed up to check things out, but hadn’t made an offering, or signed up for a class, just yet. Maybe they weren’t full-on Partners in Mission.

Maybe they were from Emmaus, and maybe Emmaus was on the wrong side of the tracks, full of subsidized housing or something…  maybe they drank too much…  maybe they voted differently than the rest of the disciples…  maybe not everyone approved of their relationship or their living arrangement or whatever.

The point is, they weren’t part of the movers and shakers in Jesus’ core of disciples – or they would have been in Jerusalem, and we would have known their names. But they were just as broken and dismayed by the hopes that had been dashed. They were just as lost and alone and afraid of what they’d witnessed and they were just as unsure about what was coming next. And Jesus showed up for them, just as surely as he did for the eleven, back in Jerusalem.

And this is what I love about the Jesus I see on the Road to Emmaus this time around: just like he did for Mary outside the tomb… just like he did for Peter, sometime before he set out for the Emmaus Road… Jesus shows up for those on the fringes; on the outside; for the “least of these,” you might say. And so should we.

If I were Jesus, I might have gone to have a word Pontius Pilate. I might have showed myself to the Chief Priest. I might have made myself known to the soldiers who crucified me. I would have certainly surprised the hell out of Judas and asked him if his little deal with the Devil was worth it, in the end.

But, true to form, Jesus goes after the lost and alone and broken. And he doesn’t dance or gloat or boast. He very literally, simply walks with them. He listens to their struggle and he hears about their sadness. He tells them what he knows. He reminds them about who they are and of what they believe, deep down in their heart of hearts. And he let’s them remember… and see for themselves... and then he feeds them, just like he had always done and just like he promised he would do.

And that’s how, ultimately, they come to see, again, clearly, what God had done – and was willing to do – for them.

So what if this is nothing more than a Master Class in evangelism and outreach for us in these days after Easter? What if this is God, in Jesus, showing us what it looks like to share grace and good news – no gloating… not boasting… no rubbing their noses in what people don’t know or understand or believe or want, even.

Just walking alongside people who are hurting and lonely and searching for love and purpose in their life…

Just listening to their story. Just acknowledging their struggles and their celebrations. Just sharing in their uncertainty and grief and questions.

Just staying with them – even when we have other places to be or better things to do, sometimes.

Just breaking bread and sharing wine and letting God’s mercy and grace do the heavy lifting of revealing the love we already know and have already received in more ways than we can count.

So, let’s go after the lost and alone and broken with this good news, in a new way, this time around. I mean I love you all – don’t get me wrong – and I’m under no delusion that we have all of this figured out or that there aren’t plenty of lost, lonely, broken souls in our own inner circle. But there is a world full of people whose names we don’t know, yet, who feel lost and hungry for something more than what the world is feeding them.

And we have the Bread of Life to share. We have grace upon grace to offer. We have roads to travel that others refuse to walk. And we are the Body of Christ in the world, you and I, believe it or not. I can make that pretty hard for people to see sometimes, to be honest. But it’s true.

But it’s also true that God’s love will be made known through the bread we break, when we share it freely… God’s love will be made known through the forgiveness we offer… God’s love will be made known through the new life and second chances we promise… God’s love will be made known when we walk this walk with patience, humility, and compassion… and God’s love will be made known when we look for and learn from Jesus who walks with us and shows us this kind of love, every step of the way.

Amen