April 23, 2023
Easter 3
Epiphany, Winnipeg
Luke 24:13-35
Who’s on the road with you? Is it just you? A friend? Two friends? Which one’s Jesus? Sometimes we just don’t know.
On that day two of them were walking along the road, talking about the things that had happened these past few days. It’s in an old story from Luke, but it’s got me thinking about people on the road today. Just a few days ago a small group of people were on the road south of Sprague, and then they stepped off the road and kept going, through fields and forest and wetlands. We sometimes call them migrants, but they’re people, they’re sons or daughters or siblings or spouses or friends, people with life stories and joys and struggles and gifts and abilities. The youngest is 19, maybe…who do you know who’s nineteen? The oldest 46 or so… Maybe seven are from Mexico, not many more details are known. We all heard about them, but really knew nothing of them until we heard the news about a rescue on the other side of the border, nine people not dressed for the weather and needing to be lifted out of a flooded place in a cold forest.
They’re real people.
What were they talking about along the way, as they walked like those two on the road to Emmaus? Were they afraid? Were they grateful for each other’s company along the way? What were they leaving behind, and as they moved ahead what did they hope to find?
It’s got me thinking about people on the road today. A friend of mine will soon begin his fourth or fifth pilgrimage in northern Spain – you’ve maybe heard of the Camino de Santiago. Hundreds of kilometres across Spain, following a path that people have followed for a millennium and more, he’ll set off alone or maybe with one or two people, and as they walk along through mountain ranges and across flat plains and through suburbs and industrial outskirts, others will move in and out of the group as the days and the kilometres roll on.
For my friend the most important part of it all these is the people he meets along the way. People just sort of end up walking together for a few days and they become close friends, or they might walk together and then not see each other again…but still be part of that whole walk together. People coming and going, drifting in an out, being gifts to each other. And although this is the fourth or fifth time he’s been on that path, he knows that he’ll leave something behind as he goes. And he knows he’ll come back a little bit different again. And there are these people along the way.
What did they talk about along the way? What did they leave behind? What did they hope to find?
Who’s on the road with you? Is it just you? A friend? Two friends? Which one’s Jesus? Sometimes we just don’t know.
On that same day, the day of Jesus’ resurrection, the day when some women went and found an empty tomb, the day when the disciples heard but couldn't believe that Jesus was alive…on that same day two of the group were walking away from Jerusalem to a town called Emmaus. They were leaving Jerusalem behind, that place where everything went wrong and where everything fell apart. They were going to a town called Emmaus, and who knows what they were hoping to find there? Maybe they thought they’d find safety there, or a place without those memories of what just happened? Or maybe they just wanted a normal day’s work after what should have been a festival?
Like a group of people crossing a border three hours from here or a friend starting a long walk again a continent away, these are real people, who are leaving something behind and hoping for something up ahead. Or maybe they’re not hoping for anything; they just want to get away.
And while they walk and talk Jesus joins them and asks them what they’re talking about along the way. When he asks, they just stop walking and go quiet for awhile. They don’t know it’s Jesus; as Luke puts it, “their eyes were kept from recognizing him.” But his simple question stops them cold. Now they can’t just keep moving. They have to stop and ponder awhile.
Who’s on the road with you? Is it just you? A friend? Two friends? Which one’s Jesus? Sometimes we just don’t know.
We’re like those two walking on the road, aren’t we? You’re like that; I’m like that; we’re like that together. Maybe we are leaving something behind, or heading off for something new; maybe we’re sure of where we’re going, or perhaps we have no idea where we’re headed. Sometimes maybe we just keeping moving so we don’t need to stop and pay attention to what’s happening around us or happening inside. If someone were to come along while we walk the way and say, “You know, God is with you,” or “Jesus is walking the road with you,” we would probably agree; or we would think we should. But it’s also true that we don’t always see that so clearly. I know there have been times when I’m on the road, whether that’s an actual walk on the road or another day at work or another exam or paper to write, or sometimes just another ordinary day, and even if there were people on that road with me I’ve felt so very much alone. I’ll go out on a limb here and say you’ve felt like that too. And even if I could agree when someone might say something about God being with me, or Jesus being on the road, I’d be hard pressed to say how, or where, or who, or if….
So let that line in this story sit with you for awhile. “While they were talking and discussing, Jesus himself came near and went with them, but their eyes were kept from recognizing him.” These two are getting the best Easter sermon anyone could ever get, right there when Easter itself was only a few hours old, and the risen Jesus was only a few hours old, but they just can’t see him. And you know what? It’s OK. Right at the start of this new story, this new story that has called us to get together like this for two thousand years, things aren’t always clear, and we see two of our own who can talk and talk about what’s happened but find it hard to see the risen Jesus on the road with them; sometimes we can can talk and talk about what’s happened but find it hard to see the risen Jesus on the road with us. That’s just part of what it is to be human, and to be people of faith, and to be the church together. Sometimes we just don’t know. Maybe we usually just don’t know. And it’s a strange but deep sort of comfort to hear that it was like that right from the start, and we’re still here.
Because even if we don’t know it, Jesus does walk the way with us.
Jesus’ walking partners do, of course, recognize him soon enough. He walks with them and talks with them, and when he sits down and breaks a loaf of bread with them, they suddenly see who it is! But then he disappears. And that too is what our life of faith is like. Sometimes there’s a high point where everything makes sense and we see what’s going on. Sometimes. More often than not, though, we’re just trying to figure it out and find our way.
Figure it out and find our way when it’s a challenge and tiring.
Figure it out and find our way when we know we’ll be changed but we’re afraid of what that might mean.
Figure it out and find our way when it’s dangerous or frightening and we just wish we could get away.
Figuring it out and finding our way towards social justice, or toward an uncertain future, or towards healing our relationships.
That’s what our life is. There are a few highlights along the way, but mostly it’s just…being on the way. Our life together is kind of walking together along the road, sometimes talking about what’s happened, agreeing or disagreeing, sometimes really busy and sure our direction is clear, or sometimes stopping and being silent…but always being on the way together.
In this life of faith the point isn’t that we figure everything out, because in some grand cosmic way God has figured it out already on a cross and an empty tomb. And now we just try to work out what that means in our life together and our life in the world. We aren’t really given all the answers; instead we’re given a gift; a gift that says we don’t need to cling desperately to a clear moment or a crisp understanding or some kind of certainty. A gift that says that it’s OK – it’s normal, it’s even faithful - that we seek and wonder and sometimes really don’t know.
And we’re given the gift of a community that forms while we walk along the way. People come and go, weave in and out of the group, staying on the way with us forever or staying on the way for a few days then walking the way with another. But there’s always someone else on the road with us. We’re called together into this. Not to be right together. Not to know what’s going on together. But to walk and wander and wonder. To be unsure sometimes together. Then to pause and break bread together. At a communion table, or at a dinner table, or a food court or at coffee in the narthex.
6 Who’s on the road with you? Is it just you? A friend? Two friends? Just us? The whole neighbourhood? Walking down Dalhousie together? Who’s on the road with us? Which one’s Jesus? Sometimes we just don’t know. But Jesus is on the road with us, on the way with us. When it’s all clear. Or all those other days when it’s not clear. But we walk together. The time will come when we’ll see. And while we wander along, Jesus is there. We’ll see.
AMEN