We're clueless right now...but here's where this might be going
We’ve just celebrated Easter - remembering the death and resurrection of Jesus - in the most disorienting way possible: at home, all dressed up with nowhere to go.
How can this be Easter?
How can any of this be real?
How can I find some of those marshmallow easter eggs that taste so good?
“Now with every eye closed and every head bowed, I want you to raise your hand….”
We watch our pastors, Sunday after Sunday online, doing their best. And they look strangely lost and bewildered, standing behind a podium preaching to empty seats.
A thumbs up on the Facebook Live stream seems slightly inadequate, doesn’t it?
By some cosmic coincidence (or grand design?) our unfolding pandemic story mirrors the unfolding Easter story. And so it’s worth reflecting on how that story played out 2000 years ago, and not try to skip ahead to the bit where everyone feels good and we all have a good meal and belly laugh.
In Luke 24, the disciples are bewildered and discouraged. They’ve just seen Jesus crucified and now there are strange rumours and conspiracy theories swirling around. The upward trajectory they were on has been viciously cut down. The miracles, the masses, the momentum - all cast to the ground.
Hopes and dreams? Dashed.
Goals and ambitions? Smashed.
Not only does it feel like an abrupt end, none of it makes any sense. The story is not playing out anything like they had imagined it. This is not what they signed up for.
Of course, there were clues along the way. Jesus choosing to ride into Jerusalem on a donkey instead of a triumphant war horse. Jesus rebuking Peter for whipping out his sword. Jesus calling dinner on Thursday night, “The LAST Supper”. That should have been a BIG clue right there.
So there they are, trudging down that dusty road towards Emmaus. And they are clueless. Beaten. Worn out and alone. Just the two of them, in isolation.
It’s at this time of deep discouragement that Jesus walks alongside. He comes to them in a form they don’t have eyes to recognize. And He asks questions.
Darn it. Jesus always asks questions.
In fact, in the gospels, Jesus asks more than 300 questions. In turn, He is asked 183, of which he only answers 3. So perhaps, this is a good time to remember that. Jesus doesn’t always offer a lot of answers. Instead, He invites us into the deeper process of wrestling with ourselves, and with God.
Who are you?
Why are you so downcast?
Where are you even going?
Why are you wearing the same sweatpants nine days in a row?
And through this conversation and series of questions, Jesus reveals through scripture that there is a much bigger story unfolding than just the events of recent days (Lk 24:27). And guess what… it’s OK that we don’t see it all. How could we really? How could we possibly know the big picture...
We’re in that kind of transitional space right now, aren’t we? We’ve left one city. We’ve left behind things that we are now grieving. We’ve left certain hopes and plans, abandoned by the side of the road. And we’ve set out on the dusty, discouraging road to another place.
But there’s an opportunity waiting for us at the end of this road. It’s an opportunity to meet Jesus in a deeper way. It’s an opportunity to reset our priorities and focus, as a community of believers.
The disciples invite Jesus to join them for a meal. You see, they are still faithfully committed to the most basic teachings of Jesus - “I was a stranger and you welcomed me in.” (Mt 25:35).
And so Jesus stays, and when they share their food with Him, a beautiful thing happens. Their eyes are opened. Their eyes are opened! And they truly see Him. (Lk 24:30-31).
Here, take some bread. I’ll leave it on your front porch.
Folks, I have a feeling that this dusty road we’re on leads to a place where we’ll have a real opportunity to open our hearts and our homes in accordance with the most basic teachings of Jesus:
I was hungry and you gave me something to eat
I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink
I was a stranger and you invited me in
I needed clothes and you clothed me
I was sick and you looked after me
I was in prison and you came to visit me
And when we do, we’ll truly see Jesus in our midst. Because that is how he has always revealed himself - through the poor and marginalized. But in the frenzy of life and work and play, we’ve lost sight of that, haven’t we? We’ve lost sight of what is really important.
People are saying everything is going to change.
Well, that’s up to us really. Because we don’t have to invite Jesus in. He never forces Himself on us.
The choice is ours.