"Youth Sunday Sermon"  Brian Bucknall, Katherine Corley, Carey Doughty

Luke 24:13-36

KATHERINE

Often in Scripture, and in our own lives, God makes His presence known to His people when they are going through a hard or challenging time in their lives.  Cleopas and the other disciple were walking away from the troubling and devastating events of Jesus’ arrest, trial, and crucifixion on the day of the first Easter.  They had just received the news that Jesus’ body had disappeared from the tomb, and understandably, they were upset and confused.  To them, the death of Jesus represented the loss of hope. We don’t know exactly what conclusion they drew from the empty tomb. Maybe they did not believe the accounts Mary Magdalene and other disciples gave about seeing the risen Christ.  Maybe they concluded that Jesus had lied and that He was not who He said He was. Whatever they thought, it caused them to lose hope. So, they were leaving Jerusalem behind them, along with all the haunting memories it held.  And Jesus chose this moment, when they were at their most vulnerable and doubtful, to meet them on the road.

This was also a seemingly ordinary moment for the disciples.  It is interesting to note that the town of Emmaus is not mentioned anywhere else in the Bible and is not a place of historical significance- we do not even know the exact location of Emmaus, only that it was about 7 miles from Jerusalem.  It was just an ordinary, unimportant town. Also, Cleopas is mentioned nowhere else in the Bible, or at least by the same name, and the other disciple is not named at all.  These were two very ordinary people who had followed Christ, though they were not of the original twelve disciples. When they reached Emmaus, they finally recognized Jesus through the routine of breaking and sharing bread.  It was in the midst of the routine and ordinary—the blessing and breaking of bread—that their eyes were opened and they recognized Jesus.

BRIAN

Like Katherine has just explained, the whole Cleopas/Road to Emmaus story is really pretty minimal. There are essentially no established personalities among its three principal characters, Jesus included. The first disciple is unnamed and barely mentioned. The second, Cleopas, is given a name, but not much more. They both seem to be typified only by sadness and lack of faith. We think we know the third character, Jesus, but this is essentially a Jesus we haven’t encountered before, one preferring to go incognito rather than proclaim himself the risen Lord.  So, we have three unknowns meeting up on an unknown road outside of Jerusalem heading toward the town Emmaus.

I am reminded of an old French film called Last Year at Marienbad. That film also has only three characters, each of whom is named only after a letter of the alphabet—A, M, and X.  These characters are given little more than vaguely archetypal traits as a means of defining themselves. This lends the film a frustratingly ambiguous bent.  These characters seem unknowable because they are so loosely constructed, and as such the first half-hour of the movie can be incredibly tedious. As you get into the movie though, a funny thing happens. You realize that because these characters are so loosely constructed they fit into any variety of molds. The movie begins to challenge you to imbue these fictitious people with your own ethics and feelings, your own motivations and fears. Slowly, the vague archetypes become more knowable, because you see yourself in them and they grow into the context of your own life. When the film ends you feel as if you understand yourself that much better. It goes without saying that no two people leave the movie feeling the same way.

            I bring up Last Year at Marienbad because I feel that the tale of the walk to Emmaus has a similar effect.  Luke paints in broad strokes, such that his readers have to fill in the details.  It’s not hard to imagine yourself as Cleopas’ nameless buddy disciple. Not hard to imagine that you’d be feeling pretty bummed too if you thought that the one guy who was supposed to change your life was brutally killed. Not hard to feel nihilistic and skeptical. Not hard to imagine feeling a little taken aback when that same guy (who happens to look completely different to you) randomly approaches you and your friend on the road and berates you both for not believing.  Also, it’s not hard to imagine the feeling of elation when you realize that hey, this is the guy who’s gonna give me something to live for, something to believe in. This is the guy whose gonna change my life.  He’s here beside me, back from the dead. w00t.  (For those of you who don’t know, w00t is the 2007 Word of the Year, an internet lingo for, “Hallelujah!” if you will.)  Maybe there is hope here after all.

            Even though this story appears in no other gospel, there is a powerful message here; it is a story with which we can resonate in a personal way. Really, this story is an illustration of the healing power of faith in times when faith seems like a lost cause.  It’s almost as if Luke really wants to show that for the gift of Christ’s life, death, and resurrection to really resonate, to carry an emotional and spiritual weight, we have to be skeptical of it, question it, even doubt it.  If we really want Christ to open our eyes to what his life truly meant, then as logic stands we first must close our eyes.

CAREY

It’s not unusual to experience doubt at some point in our lives. Doubt makes you feel unhappy, disappointed, and sometimes even throws you into disbelief.  On the road to Emmaus, Cleopas and the other disciple are all of these things. They are unhappy and disappointed that Jesus has been crucified and buried. They are apparently even in disbelief about Jesus’ resurrection. Then, when Jesus breaks the bread with them that night, their doubt is washed away and their disbelief is struck down.  They have had their eyes opened to the risen Lord.

This past January, I was a member of the Mid-Winters Planning team. For those of you who don’t know, Mid-Winters is a youth conference that is held by Mission Presbytery every January at Mo-Ranch. The planning team, or MPTs as they call us, meets three times over the course of a year to plan the entire conference, and then attend and help run the conference on 4 consecutive weekends. The first meeting is to get to know the other planning team members, the second is to decide what passage we should base the conference on as well as what the theme should be, and the third meeting we figure out the nuts and bolts such as what are we going to do in our small groups, what activities will we have set up for people to do when they show up, and things of that nature. The time for the first meeting came, and I was very nervous. Everybody showed up, we played a bunch of get to know you games, slept, did the low ropes course, all those awkward things you do when you meet a big group for the first time. I left that meeting having had a good time, but not much else. The second meeting I didn’t go to because I had a school commitment, and after the third meeting, not only was I feeling no closer to any of the other MPTs, but I was feeling more distant from God.

Over the three months in between the third meeting and the first conference, I didn’t believe, I didn’t attend church, and I didn’t really even consider myself Christian. Riding in the car on the way to that first conference, I was so nervous that I had to lie down so that my mom would not notice how much I was shaking. How could I get there and lead all of these other youth in learning about God when I didn’t even know what I believed?

I got to Mo-Ranch, walked to the auditorium, and helped finish setting up the decorations. As the middle schoolers who had come for the conference came in, the slight bit of confidence I had attained while setting up decorations vanished. I stopped talking to people, and pretty much just stood around watching everybody have fun with their youth groups. That night I didn’t initiate any conversations, and when I was spoken to I would answer with about 4 words.

The next morning I woke up, still feeling unworthy. I didn’t think that I could do anything because of the unstable-ness of my own faith. I went to my small group, ate meals, and went to everything I was supposed to be at, but to say that I was just going through the motions would be an understatement. Every Saturday night at Mid Winters there is a dance. At the dance I tried to relax and have a good time. I had fun and for a while, I forgot about my problems, but then the dance ended and the time for Saturday night worship came. For those of you who haven’t been to Mid-Winters, this is by far the most emotional part. Four MPTs get up and share very personal stories on the microphone to the whole conference. After that they set up four prayer stations. The campers can go to these to share their problems or worries and then have a minister lead them in a prayer, or they can sit in their spots on the floor and just think or pray alone. The four MPTs spoke and the time for reflecting began. I started to cry. My grandmother hadn’t been feeling very good, and I just couldn’t imagine what it would be like if she didn’t make it. As I sat there crying, I felt an arm wrap around my shoulders. I looked over and there was another one of the MPTs named Ellie. Ellie and I had talked once for about two seconds so that I could ask her where to go. But now, she did not ask me to share anything with her. She did not try to comfort me by saying, “Everything is going to be alright.” All Ellie had done was give me half of a hug. In that hug, I felt more love and compassion than I had felt in a very long time. In that hug, I felt more love than any human being can give.  In that hug, I had my eyes opened to the love of God.

 KATHERINE

God’s revelation in the world takes place through God’s actions, not our own.  The disciples were “kept from recognizing [Jesus]” until “their eyes were opened.”  These are passive actions on the part of the disciples.  God’s presence and revelation is His gift to us, not something we choose.  And when we find ourselves in places of doubt, confusion, and disbelief, God just might be revealed in some simple and seemingly mundane act.  It was in the breaking of the bread that the disciples’ eyes were opened and they recognized Jesus.  It was in a half of a hug with no expectations that Carey realized God’s presence and felt God’s love. 

I wonder how often we miss God’s revelation in the world around us.  In the usual routine of our lives, sometimes we get lost in our daily schedules. We are so focused on the things we need to do and the places we need to go that we rarely stop to enjoy the moment.  We do not expect anything unusual to happen, and sometimes we even get frustrated when something unplanned occurs.  But God is present in every moment of our lives, not just when we come to church or pray.  When Jesus met the disciples on the road to Emmaus, He did not interrupt their routine; instead, He entered it and became a part of it.  Though they did not recognize or acknowledge Him as their Lord, He shared the time and the journey with them.  He chose not to immediately reveal Himself, but instead He joined them inconspicuously.  At the moment that His disciples needed Him most, He entered their lives in a way in which they could understand and relate.  He became their constant companion and teacher, walking with them on their journey.

God does the same in our lives.  When we need Him most—when we are most doubtful and when we are despairing—God shows Himself to us in meaningful ways.  He joins our journey and walks with us, sharing our joys, sorrows, and worries, and teaching us about the nature of God.  In the story of the walk to Emmaus, God is revealed through the breaking of bread and a meal shared with others.  And today, when we celebrate the sacrament of communion and share the meal with each other, Christ reveals Himself to us.  He also does so through the reading of Scripture, which connects us to believers in all times and places and serves as a witness to God’s love.  God’s creation itself proclaims God through its beauty and complexity.  We also see God’s revelation and God’s love through Jesus’ disciples today—through acts of kindness shown to a stranger, or a smile, or even in a half of a hug. 

BRIAN

It is in these moments of clarity and recognition that our past doubt and confusion may begin to make sense.  Cleopas and the unnamed disciple—upon their realization that Christ was alive—recalled that their hearts had been burning within them as Jesus had talked to them and opened up the Scriptures for them. This feeling, which I can only equate to some sort of elated giddiness, is a feeling that only occurs when something truly unexpected and wonderful happens. This is not the emotional reaction of a lifelong patron of blind faith, but of a reluctant skeptic who suddenly realizes that they had faith the whole time, but just didn’t know where to find it. I’m not speaking of some sort of Born Again revelation. This kind of revelation is more thoughtful, more dominated by some internal force, guided by God.  If you read the story of the Walk to Emmaus and really imagine yourself to be present with Jesus at the table, you can get a glimpse of this kind of revelation.  But to truly experience it you must ask questions, put logic and faith into conversation with each other, and allow yourself to feel doubt and experience skepticism... until you realize it made sense the whole time. They say Christ is the way, but he’s just as much the destination, and sometimes to find that destination we make the journey without Christ... only to discover he was there all along.  We are never alone.

God challenges us to lose ourselves on the path of faith, to go bush-whacking through a forest of doubt and discovery, and stumble upon the path of faith again.  And instead of a path, it becomes a road well-traveled by those who have gone before us. When you leave this sanctuary, you are invited to question what you have heard here today, question what we interpret in the Bible, question what God really means to you, and question what you think God has planned for you.  Then, perhaps, when you have experienced, confronted, and grappled with doubt, your eyes will be opened to the true revelation of Christ in you.  For God meets us in the place where we need God most: when we are most vulnerable and lost, when we are filled with doubt.

Amen.