The Road to Emmaus-3 Easter

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Episcopal Church
May 4, 2013

Road to Emmaus-3 Easter C

When I was in England last month, my traveling partner Anne Reed and I stayed mostly in guest houses.  Guest houses are dorm like accommodations with a shared bath down the hall and a provided breakfast.  I have to say up front that I am not a big fan of the shared bath down the hall-it is a bit too much like camping for me. But the price was right and I am an early riser, so I adapted.  My dislike of the shared bathroom was more than offset by the great conversations I had with strangers over breakfast.  Sitting around a breakfast table at a seminary or church run guest house for 45 minutes with total strangers provides two options.  Eat in silence or get to know some strangers. I opted for the latter, not really being one to eat in silence when there are people to talk with.  Around those tables I heard stories I would probably not have otherwise heard. An odd little community was formed each morning before we bid each other good day and each left for our own adventures.  The human resources director at one of the great cathedrals shared her struggles with how to balance the church industry with the gospel.  A bishop shared the joys and challenges of being the required "on call" bishop for the quite secular Parliament.  Another person told the story of his life as a prison warden.  The community that was formed each morning would likely never exist outside of those 45 minutes, yet bread was broken together and in the midst of our fellowship, I would say that the Risen Christ was present as total strangers shared the joys and struggles of their lives.

Typically when I return to Christ Church from being away, Jesus and the lectionary offer us some gem like "If you want to be my disciple, you must hate your mother and father, brother and sisters."  So, I was thrilled to look up the readings for today and find the story of the Road to Emmaus where Jesus is known to the disciples in the breaking of the bread.  You know that I love meal stories! This morning, we hear Cleopas and his companion tell a stranger the sad story of their day.  The two disciples are baffled that this stranger walking with them seems not to have heard about the things that have taken place.  The stranger then interprets to them everything the scriptures say about the Messiah, and apparently their hearts burned within them as Jesus taught, but still they did not recognize him.  Not until Jesus is at the table with them, takes some bread, blesses, breaks, and gives the bread to them do the two disciples recognize Jesus.  And Jesus disappears.

On the surface, this story seems quite straightforward.  The Risen Christ is made known to the disciples through the breaking of bread over supper.  The story  reminds us both of the presence of the Risen Christ here at this table, and of the way the Risen Christ can be known in an ordinary  meal eaten around a regular table with fellow travelers, whether friend of stranger.

However, if we stop there, I believe we short change this remarkable story.  When Jesus asks "What are you discussing with each other as you walk along?" the discouraged disciples proceed to tell him about the devastating events of the last days. Then Cleopas says these four little words "But we had hoped."  "But we had hoped he was the one to redeem Israel."  How often have we said or heard those same four words:"But we had hoped the interview would go better," Or "But we had hoped for a little more time," or "But we had hoped the relationship would flourish."  In the midst of the kind of grief and despair Cleopas and his fellow traveler felt, all they knew were dashed hopes, and they were surprised that this stranger seemed to know nothing of their shattered world.

We will not all have our "But we had hoped"despair answered by an experience of Jesus on the road to Emmaus.  As Christians, we are offered comfort and hope in the body of Christ we share in this place, and in the fellowship of fellow travelers gathered around a table.  We hear the Easter story and know that suffering and death do not have the last word, that there is no stone that we must move by ourselves, and we are reminded that nothing, not even death, can separate us from the love of God.  But how do we know that?  And how to we respond to the "But we had hoped" despair in the hungry, hurting world around us?

Here is what Jesus did in response to the "But we had hoped" despair of Cleopas and his companion.  Jesus walked with the two grief stricken disciples.  Jesus listened to their story.  Jesus shared his story, which in his case just happens to be the story of Scripture.  Jesus stayed with them when invited, sat at their table with them, and broke their bread with them.  Sara Miles, an Episcopal laywoman and author of the book "Take this bread" writes in an essay for "The Daily Episcopalian"  that the most important word in Scripture is the word "with." As in "The Word was with God or "His name shall be Emmanuel-God with us." Or "The word became flesh and dwelt with us." Or, "Lo, I am with you always."  When I think about my own story, how did I come to belief that suffering and death do not have the final word, or that there is no stone I must roll away by myself, or that nothing can separate us from the love of God?  That happened through people who walked with me, listened, shared their story with me, and the bread broken with me in all kinds of table fellowship.  How do we respond to the "But we had hoped" of the world around us, whether each other or people we have not yet met?  If we use the model Jesus offers, we walk with them, listen, share our own story, and share a meal on their terms, not ours.

The story of the road to Emmaus calls us to walk with each other and with those in the world around us, to listen, to share out stories, to break bread with each other and those we have not met yet.  The promise of this gospel story is that when we walk with each other, when we walk with the guests who come through these doors, when we walk with those we want to serve, we walk the Road to Emmaus and we will walk with the Risen Christ.
Amen.