Roadside Service

Roadside Service         Easter 3 (Year A)

Luke 24: 13-25

Do you ever feel sometimes that the world is going too fast?  That things are changing at such a speed that it is hard to keep up?  That just as you get used to things being one way something happens and before you know things have changed again?  This past week for example Toronto’s mayor has finally admitted that he needs some help controlling his substance abuse – after two more uncontrollable tongue issues.  The provincial government presented a budget and less than a day later an election called for June 12^th.  Things are heating up in the Ukraine, and the crisis is quickly becoming a war.  Over 350 in Afghanistan lost their lives in a landslide.  And the families of the teenagers who lost their lives on the ferry are just beginning to understand their loss. 

Not all the events of last week were on such a big scale -  200 people in Enderby BC are stranded in their homes because of a washed out road.  For some  – the spring rains brought flooding, and others who live in the Midwestern United States had their homes where blown away.   And some families said goodbye to loved ones, or learned of diagnosis of disease that will forever change their lives.  And I imagine that as the folks that are living through these trying times, I bet you a few of them will at some point stop what they are doing and take time to reflect on their journey and maybe just maybe like the grieving people in today’s story realize that they are also walking with the Divine and the God had been with them on their journey.

The recent events in our world, point us to the message in today's Gospel reading. Life is unpredictable. Stuff happens. Tragedies happen. Blessings happen. Moments of feeling clear and certain are fleeting. Inspiration comes and goes. Health is temporary.   Bruce Epperly writes:  “But, God is in each detail, filling it with holiness and then moving on the next and inviting us to follow. Faithfulness is in the remembering but also in movements that create new memories and new possibilities. As the Emmaus story notes, hospitality is the open door to creative transformation and an expanded vision of possibilities.” In truth, what happens is often less important than how we respond to what happens. 

Two people are walking down the road – they are leaving Jerusalem – there is nothing to keep them there anymore – the Passover festival is over – so they are headed home – Cleopas and the unnamed walker – some say this unnamed disciple is Cleopas’ wife, some say another disciple who was grieving the loss of Jesus profoundly.  

Here they are on this ordinary day two people walking home.  The road, I imagine has many on it, some going to Jerusalem to do what it is that you do in a larger centre of commerce – other are going in the same directions as this couple as they too leave the city after the Passover celebrations.  So as they go along they are joined by another – and fell into conversation with their fellow traveller.  They shared with the stranger some of their feelings about what they had witnessed over the Passover festival, how for them it became not about celebrating the Great Exodus of Moses but instead became a time of horror and grief as they witnessed to the arrest trial and execution of their friend, mentor and prophet Jesus.  It was easy to share their intense emotions, to share their grief, their disillusionment, their sorrow and pain, with this stranger who walks with them.  They are surprised that the stranger has such wise words, reminding them about how God has been with God’s people for generation to generation, and that maybe what has happened is part of God’s plan.    

Sad as they were they reached out to this stranger and invited him to share a meal with them. Their response to loss and sorrow and tragedy, was grief, indeed, but it was also gratitude and gracious hospitality.  Some of what Jesus had taught them had rubbed off and table hospitality was top of Jesus examples of how to live as God would have them live.  So as they shared the meal, and as the bread was broken – something shifted – something changed and the stranger was no longer a stranger – he was instead an intimate friend – the stranger was Christ – their eyes were opened and they saw the Divine in their midst – and the meal and the men were transformed.  And then he was gone.

In the middle of a simple meal, in the middle of an ordinary day – something shifted and the ordinary became extraordinary and the moment was sacred – that these moments of journey and meal – where shared with the Christ – that God got in.  And the feeling was palpable – and the realization that Christ was there, caused these two people to get up from their table and retrace their steps – this time with a lightness of heart and foot and return to share this good news, to tell of this wonderful experience of God and grace and resurrection and new life – to share Jesus alive.

Sometimes – often times it is so hard to see what is right in our midst.  The famous flower artist Georgia O’Keefe once said:  “no one really sees a flower, not really – to look at a flower takes time, like having friends takes time.”  When we are in the midst of the living and breathing and sickness and grief and the sorrow, and the anxiety and the fear – it is hard to see God in the midst as well as in the midst of the joy and laughter and the delight and the wonder – the presence of God often goes unnoticed.  But God is still there – and God is here.

God meets us on the road.  We too are on journey as individuals and as a community.  Last week we celebrated 60 years of this community’s ministry.  What a great day, what amazing music that Alison and the choir preformed.  We heard wonderful stories of times in your life as a congregation when you walked the road fully knowing that you went with God, there was excitement and energy in the remembering.  But you know as well as I do that those times are gone and we are in these times.  Did you know that we are closing United Churches at a rate of one a week now?  You have heard about the struggles to fill the pews, fund the projects, find the energy, this is the road we are walking on right now – but the wonderful thing about a story such as this is that what hope it gives to us struggling grieving people as we continue our journey – we don’t go alone – God is with us – walking that road….I wonder where we are going?  I wonder what we are called to do now?  I wonder who we are called to do ministry with?  I wonder what God has planned for us here at St. James? 

Cause Jesus meets us on the way. He doesn't come to us in Jerusalem. He doesn't wait for us at home. He doesn't bid us make some holy pilgrimage or undertake some pious feat. Rather, he meets us where we are on the road, in the midst of our journey, right smack in the middle of all the pain, frustration, and despondency that threatens to overwhelm us. Even when we don't recognize him.

I am a Grey’s Anatomy fan, and a few years ago they aired an episode that was an Emmaus Road story for me.  It was at Callie and Arizona’s wedding.  These two of the characters (both woman) were getting married – or as married as you gay and lesbian couples can get in Washington State.  They had booked a church, found a minister, invited guests – and welcomed parents into their home to prepare for the big event.  Callie is Catholic and her family is having a hard time with her choices.  Her mother especially – and as much as Callie tries to make her mother feel comfortable and to include her mother in the preparation and also in the life of her new granddaughter the mother’s “faith” belief about God, Jesus and Church will not allow her to accept her daughters choices and eventually her mother stops trying, she gives up and goes home.  Callie is devastated and because of a variety of other mishaps – as only an hour long prime time drama can provide – Callie decided to call the whole thing off.  Into this comes Callie’s friend and colleague Miranda (and this is the point – this is the place that is an Emmaus experience

Miranda says “First of all you do not need the law, or a priest or your mother to make your wedding real. And the church can be anywhere you want it to be…because where do you think God is. God’s in you…God’s in me. God’s right here in the middle of us…Now some churches haven’t caught up to God yet. Your mother hasn’t caught up to God yet and by the way she may never catch up but it’s OK. If you are willing to stand up in front of your family, friends and God and commit yourself to another human being to give of yourself in that kind of partnership…for better or worse, in sickness and in health, Honey that is a marriage, that is real and that is all that matters.

“because where do you think God is. God’s in you…God’s in me. God’s right here in the middle of us…”  And he was known in the breaking of the bread – that’s were God is  - didn’t our hearts burn as we listened to him.

In me / in you – immanent God (that’s the theological language)

And between you and me (eminent God )  God is here, 

And Jesus meets us on the way. He doesn't come to us in Jerusalem. He doesn't wait for us at home. He doesn't bid us make some holy pilgrimage or undertake some pious feat. Rather, he meets us where we are on the road, in the midst of our journey, right smack in the middle of all the pain, frustration, and despondency that threatens to overwhelm us. Even when we don't recognize him.

Jesus meets us where we are—wherever we wander, whatever path we claim, whatever road... Jesus walks with us—not virtually, but actually. He is right here. He does not appear at the comfortable center, but at the edges and the margins—and he appears not first to the wealthy and powerful, but to grief-stricken women and hot-headed men and weary travellers. He comes to you and to me.  Jesus joins us on the journey – and burns in our hearts – and shares a meal – and breaks the bread – and is made known to us – and we discover that we have never been alone – that God was with us even though we could not see him – God is in our midst – journeying with us.  Thanks be to God.  Amen.