I’d like to share a story with you.
Although actually written as a sermon that I shared a few
weeks ago, on Bloomsday Sunday, I’d like to share it with you as well, to give
you a window into my Lenten journey. It’s long, but [hopefully] worth it.
I’d also like to note the great timing of our wonderful
church fathers and mothers who set out the calendar of readings. How fitting
that the Road to Emmaus passage would fall on Bloomsday Sunday.
Here is the passage, in The
Voice:
_______________________
Luke 24:13-35
13 Picture this:
That same day, two other disciples (not
of the eleven) are traveling the seven miles from Jerusalem to Emmaus. 14
As they walk along, they talk back and forth about all that has transpired
during recent days. 15 While they’re talking, discussing, and
conversing, Jesus catches up to them and begins walking with them, 16 but
for some reason they don’t recognize Him.
Jesus: 17 You
two seem deeply engrossed in conversation. What are you talking about as
you walk along this road?
They stop walking and just stand there,
looking sad. 18 One of them—Cleopas is his name—speaks up.
Cleopas: You must be
the only visitor in Jerusalem who hasn’t heard about what’s been going on over
the last few days.
Jesus: 19 What
are you talking about?
Two Disciples: It’s all about
the man named Jesus of Nazareth. He was a mighty prophet who did amazing
miracles and preached powerful messages in the sight of God and everyone
around. 20 Our chief priests and authorities handed Him over to be
executed—crucified, in fact.
21 We had been hoping that He was the One—you know, the One who
would liberate all Israel and bring God’s promises. Anyway, on top of
all this, just this morning—the third day after the execution— 22 some
women in our group really shocked us. They went to the tomb early this morning,
23 but they didn’t see His body anywhere. Then they came back and told
us they did see something—a vision of heavenly messengers—and these messengers
said that Jesus was alive. 24 Some people in our group went to the tomb
to check it out, and just as the women had said, it was empty. But they didn’t
see Jesus.
Jesus: 25 Come
on, men! Why are you being so foolish? Why are your hearts so sluggish when it
comes to believing what the prophets have been saying all along? 26 Didn’t
it have to be this way? Didn’t the Anointed One have to experience these
sufferings in order to come into His glory?
27 Then He begins with Moses and
continues, prophet by prophet, explaining the meaning of the Hebrew Scriptures,
showing how they were talking about the very things that had happened to Jesus.
28 About this time, they are
nearing their destination. Jesus keeps walking ahead as if He has no plans to
stop there, 29 but they convince Him to join them.
Two Disciples: Please, be our
guest. It’s getting late, and soon it will be too dark to walk.
So He accompanies them to their home. 30
When they sit down at the table for dinner, He takes the bread in His
hands, He gives thanks for it, and then He breaks it and hands it to them. 31
At that instant, two things happen simultaneously: their eyes are
suddenly opened so they recognize Him, and He instantly vanishes—just
disappears before their eyes.
Two Disciples (to each
other): 32 Amazing! Weren’t our hearts on fire within
us while He was talking to us on the road? Didn’t you feel it all coming
clear as He explained the meaning of the Hebrew Scriptures?
33 So they get up immediately and
rush back to Jerusalem—all seven miles—where they find the eleven
gathered together—the eleven plus a number of others. 34 Before
Cleopas and his companion can tell their story, the others have their own
story to tell.
Other Disciples: The Lord has
risen indeed! It’s true! He appeared to Simon!
35 Then the two men report their own experience—their
conversation along the road, their moment of realization and recognition as He
broke the bread.
______________________
I love
this passage. The language is so rich, so sensual; the heart language is
particularly powerful. As I studied this passage, I couldn’t help but identify
with the experience of the disciples on some small level. Tonight, I would like
to share the story of my Lenten journey with you as we look at a few key
phrases that speak about the hearts of the disciples.
The
first line that really grabbed my attention was the description of the
disciples when Jesus approaches them in verse 17: “they stop walking and just
stand there, looking sad”. I envision these two as the picture of dejection,
exhaustion and pain. They are literally stopped in their tracks by it. The
description says everything we need to know about where their hearts are at –
full of disappointed hope and pain. They thought Jesus was the One, the
one who would free Israel, but apparently he wasn’t. At The Porch we have been
talking about the Lenten season as a time of cutting back, pruning, preparing
and awaiting new life. These disciples are in the middle of an extremely
painful pruning process – their branches have been cut back, perhaps too far.
There are no signs that life will return to them.
I can
identify with this feeling. I have had a disappointing, painful Lent. There
were a few different factors at play in this, but particularly my failed
licensing interview. In late March I interviewed to become licensed as a pastor
with our denomination, the Christian & Missionary Alliance. Due to some
miscommunication regarding what the interview would entail and how I was to
prepare, I failed miserably. In the end I was told that I had the character and
the call to ministry, but that I needed to have the doctrine piece better
memorized and available. They said, “This isn’t no, it’s just not yet.” What an
unfortunate misunderstanding.
As much
as I tried to ingest this information in a constructive way, taking them at
their word and prepping to try again in the fall, I was not succeeding.
Although I did not realize it right away, what I was actually internalizing was
words like failure, not good enough. I remember clearly, as I
sobbed myself to sleep the night of my interview, thinking, “This is Lent; this
is everything we’ve been talking about; this is pruning. And it just hurts.”
What we
see next in this passage is Jesus speaking directly into the pain of the
disciples. In verse 25 Jesus jolts them out of their fog, out of their pain and
disappointment induced coma by asking, “Why are your hearts so sluggish when it
comes to believing?”. He is saying “Come on friends, you’re almost there! Push
through the pain. Wake up; new life is about to emerge! Your hopes aren’t
destroyed. Let me explain it to you. This is exactly what had to happen!” Then,
as the text tells us, he explains how his suffering actually fulfills the Old
Testament prophecies about their redeemer. What we see here is Jesus giving
the disciples back their hope.
Now, my
natural response to painful situations is to avoid them. I try to rationalize
and explain them away without really feeling the emotions that go along with
them. After my horrendous interview, I tried to go along ignoring the pain,
ignoring the shameful messages I was ingesting. Like the disciples, my heart
was growing more and more sluggish.
Sleep
was not even a place of refuge, as I began to dream. For as long as I can
remember I have had vivid dreams, but these were different. I could feel the
physical sensations about which I dreamt. One particularly horrifying dream
involved me being choked and then stabbed in the eye, a dream from which I
awoke coughing with a throbbing eye. Vision emerged as a theme – aside from the
eye gouging, I often dreamt that my eyelids were heavy, requiring all of my
energy to open. During a time of group spiritual direction, a friend pointed
this theme out to me, and I began to ask God: What am I not seeing? What am I
being kept from seeing? Or just, what are you trying to tell me?
After
Jesus explains the meaning of the Old Testament prophecies, after he speaks
truth and grace to the disciples, they invite him to dinner. And it is in the
intimacy of sharing a meal that the disciples finally recognize their teacher.
I adore their response in verse 32: “Amazing! Weren’t our hearts on fire within
us while He spoke? Didn’t we feel it all coming clear as he explained it to
us?” They are essentially saying, “Oh, we see you now, Jesus! Of course, our
hearts were sluggish, deadened by pain and fear, blinded by grief. But when you
spoke we felt new life!” They are acknowledging the fact that, although they
did not see it, new life, renewed hope was right at the edge about to burst
forth, all along.
One
thing I notice they do not say at this moment: “We’re the worst. Why didn’t we
recognize him instantly? What is wrong with us?” They do not beat themselves up
over the fact that they missed him at first. They do not experience shame over
it. Instead, they simply marvel at the fact that their hearts were telling them
it was him all along, it just took some time to fully realize it. Once they
recognize Jesus, as Darrel Bock puts it, “a flame relit in their hearts”, and they were amazed by
it. And then, of course, they run an impromptu Bloomsday course to go encourage
their friends with the news.
The day
after Easter a group of pastors in town, myself included, headed to Mount Angel
Abbey in Oregon to spend a few days in retreat and solitude. I knew I needed to
use those days to try to process this interview thing. I needed to recharge, to
reclaim some energy and desire to actually do what I am doing. But my first
afternoon there, I dreamt again - more difficulty seeing, another needle in my
eye. It was pretty unsettling. All I could do was ask God over and over – what
am I not seeing?
Over
those few days I was able to identify and name my feelings of shame, my sense
of failure over this interview. But I was still unsettled; I couldn’t shake
this question of marred vision.
It was
on our ride home to Spokane that things changed. One of the three guys I was
traveling with asked me about my dreams, which I had mentioned at one point
during the retreat. Since we had nothing but time, I told them everything. What
followed was one of the most beautiful and healing experiences of my life.
You
see, these friends interpreted my dreams.
After
listening quietly, one friend looked straight into my eyes and said, “It sounds
like there’s been a really painful experience that is blocking your vision,
your ability to see and follow your call.” I burst into tears as I recounted my
interview experience, and my lack of energy and focus since then, my general
apathy toward my life, work and ministry. And then they prayed prayers of
healing, prayers that I would know and reclaim my vision and the course that
God has laid out for me. They prayed that I would know that I am not a failure,
rather, that I am enough, that I am divinely known and loved.
In
those moments, my sluggish heart reignited. Once again my heart is on fire
within me! I can see the new buds growing from the painfully pruned branches;
once again I have hope. For three days the disciples in this story were
absolutely broken and destitute; all hope was lost. That’s often our story. Life
is painful and messy, and fear tries to overpower us.
But
then Jesus appears, amidst the struggle and confusion, to speak truth and
grace. We hold on to this hope of Easter, this hope of Jesus! I don’t know how
you have experienced him throughout your life, but my most recent experience
was this. After weeks of questioning and days of turmoil, after specifically
making the time and space to listen to God but hearing nothing, it came when I
least expected it. It was in community that people spoke grace and truth into
my life, and the Spirit revived my heart.
The
disciples rushed back to tell their friends, “He is Risen!” I want to say the
same to you today, “He is Risen!” I have experienced him anew. I want to
encourage you - if we can just keep holding on through the pain and
disappointment, if we can keep asking God where that hope, that new growth will
be – he is faithful, he WILL show up and explain it, speaking truth and grace.
This is not to say that all our problems will be fixed and we will never
struggle again, rather, that he has the power to meet us in that struggle. He
has the power to restart our hearts as he did with these disciples, and as he
did recently with mine.
Father,
teach us to be people who know and recognize you.
Help
us to ponder the places where we need to experience your Spirit anew.
Let
us be people who speak truth and grace into the hearts of those around us.
Amen.