Each week there’s a couple different choices for which picture to put on the front of the bulletin, and I picked this one because the people look so surprised I thought it was funny. And this is a funny story, if you think about it. I think it was Melody in Bible chat on Wednesday that remarked that this story reads a bit like a Saturday Night Live sketch. Two disciples were walking along the road and they ran into Jesus. Only for some reason, even though they were his disciples and thus presumably knew him pretty well, they didn’t recognize its Jesus. He asked them what they were talking about, and they responded, “are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have taken place?” And then went on to tell Jesus himself all about Jesus’ own life, ministry, and death, “but we had hoped he would be the one to restore Israel.” Which of course is ironic, because Jesus was, is, the only person who fully understands the significance of his own life and death. A death which, in dying, restored Israel. But Cleopas powered on, “Moreover, some women of our group astounded us. They were at the tomb early this morning, and… they came back and told us that they had indeed seen a vision of angels who said that he was alive.” They were telling Jesus about his own resurrection. To which Jesus was like, how dense are you people! “Oh how foolish you are, and how slow of heart…” And then Jesus launched into an explanation of how they should have read in scripture about how all this was predicted, beginning with Moses and all the prophets. Which, if you think this was a rather long conversation, remember they had seven miles of walking to have it. Seven miles of walking, at no point in which did the disciples recognize that the random stranger delivering a Sunday school lesson to them was the same guy who they’d been walking with and learning from for a year.
So they got to where they were going, and Jesus continued to walk along his way, but the disciples urged him to stop and have dinner with them. This is actually a super interesting part of the story, but it’s easy to miss because it’s so different from our culture. See in the Ancient Near East, hospitality was super important. There weren’t hotels or rest areas or gas stations or any of the amenities we have today to support travelers. If you were traveling, you were totally dependent on the hospitality of others. If someone did not offer you hospitality when you needed it, it could cost you your life. So it was a cultural requirement to extend hospitality as a host. But there was also a cultural requirement for a traveler to be a good guest and not assume hospitality would be extended. So instead they would do this cultural dance beforehand, where the host would offer, the guest would refuse, and then the host would offer again, and the guest at that point was expected to accept. This was the proper etiquette of the time. And if it seems weird to you, we have no less weird etiquette habits. Why is it considered polite to say “Gezuntite” when someone sneezes, none of us speak German. Or the “Minnesota good-bye” where you have to say good-bye a whole bunch of times before you actually leave. Cultural norms are just different, not bad or wrong, and this whole host offers, guest refuses, host offers again, guest accepts, was just the expected dance of manners for the time, no different than our expectation of please and thank you.
So it was cultural what Jesus did there, but it was also theological. By not inviting himself in, Jesus made a statement about the nature of faith. Faith, Jesus, is not something to be forced on us; rather it is a voluntary, spontaneous response to God. God could have created us all as believers, could have forced us to worship, but true relationship and devotion cannot come through force. So instead God created us with the ability to have faith, with the capacity to believe, and then determinedly walks alongside us until the dance of manners coaxes us to respond in faith.
Jesus accepted the disciples’ invitation, even though they still didn’t know who he was. And then, finally, after seven miles of walking and talking, Jesus “took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them…and their eyes were opened, and they recognized him [pause] and he vanished from their sight.” That’s right, after all that, they finally figured out who he was, and he just disappeared. See how this thing totally resembles a Saturday Night Live sketch. It’s a crazy story!
It’s a crazy story, but I think it also tells us a lot about the nature of faith, and of resurrection, and how we experience faith and resurrection in our own lives. Because here’s what this story tells us about faith and resurrection. First off, faith and resurrection cannot be taught or reasoned through, they can only be experienced. The disciples were walking with Jesus for seven miles. After they told him all about himself, he then told them all of the signs they should have known from scripture about who he was, and still, even though he was literally standing in front of them explaining it to them, they didn’t recognize him. There are all kinds of theories as to what is meant by verse sixteen, “Their eyes were kept from recognizing him.” What I think it means is sometimes when we are too close to something, we cannot see it clearly. When we are in the middle of a crisis or a conflict, fear or concern, whatever the issue at hand is is simply too close to us for us to be able to see the whole picture. The disciples couldn’t recognize Jesus because the reality of his death, the grief of their loss, was too close, too fresh, for them to be able to see how there could be life on the other side of it, how resurrection could be possible. I can think of periods of my own life, where I have been mired in grief or fear or sadness, and when someone has explained to me how it would be ok or I would get through this or whatever, while I could hear what they were saying, the thing I was grieving was still too close to allow me to see the way forward. It was only later, after time had passed, that I could look back and say yes, there was the path I was on all along. But in the midst of it, more often than not, we cannot see, our eyes simply cannot focus on something so close.
Another reason the disciples maybe couldn’t recognize Jesus is because he did not look like what they were expecting. They thought he would be the one to redeem Israel, and he was, but redemption took a very different path than they thought it would. They thought redemption would look like conquering armies and mighty warriors and Rome out of town at a run. Instead resurrection looked like a baby in a manger, like a teacher who ate with lepers and tax collectors, like an innocent man dying the death of a political prisoner. It was redemption, but it was so far outside of their view of what redemption might be, that we maybe cannot blame them for missing it the first time.
Jesus explaining the scriptures to them wasn’t enough. But what was enough was the experience of Jesus. When he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. When they didn’t have to think but only receive, that suddenly their eyes were opened and they recognized him. Because faith, resurrection, isn’t something we can think our way to, it is something that sneaks up on us. It is the first deep breath when you’ve been holding it in fear. It is the sun through the clouds after a storm. It is the day that even through your grief you know you will love again. It is the first outstretched hand to mend a broken relationship, or the recognition that the relationship is over and that though it hurts you will be ok. Logic cannot get you there, reason cannot get you there. Only time, and patience, and the persistence of those who walk along side you, calmly waiting for the moment when your eyes will be opened to the faith, to the resurrection, that is already present in front of you.
They recognized him, and then he vanished from their sight. Because these signs, these moments of clarity, they are fleeting. We don’t always get long moments of clarity, especially in times of grief or pain or sadness, but what we get is enough, that spark to get us through, to show us the way forward. And though the glimpse was fleeting, it was enough to change the disciples. They left Emmaus and rushed back to Jerusalem to tell the others all about how he had been made known to them. And then they went out from that place, and the whole rest of the book of Acts is about how those fleeting moments of clarity opened their eyes and propelled them to share this good news with the world.
We only get a glimpse of the promise, but in truth a glimpse is all we need. And we get a glimpse of it every Sunday when we gather, like the disciples did that evening, around a table. A table where bread is broken and wine is shared. Where we hear the words that this bread is broken for us, and blessed, and given. It is just a taste of bread, just a sip of wine. But it is enough, enough to open our eyes to a glimpse of the promise. So this morning, like all the Sunday mornings before, and all the Sunday mornings yet to have come, I invite you to this table. Come and break bread together. Come meet Jesus in the breaking of this bread, and receive a glimpse of the kingdom. Come even if cannot recognize it, because this is not a meal you need to see. In fact, it is not a meal you even can see. The promise God makes us in this meal is bigger than our understanding. Love like this cannot be seen or explained or reasoned with, it can only be experienced. Come taste and see that the Lord is good. Amen.
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