Walk With Me

Over the past few weeks, as we’ve settled into life in Dundee, I’ve come to realize that I’ve got some bad American habits that I need to get rid of.

Eating habits…shopping habits…little things that as I look at them they make me realize that Americans can be somewhat lazy.

Like the fact that we drive everywhere. For everything. Even ridiculously short distances.

Nobody in America walks.

And with petrol prices being what they are, I am rediscovering the joy and the savings of doing a bit more walking.

Last year a study was released that showed Americans walk less than just about every other country on the planet.

At the top of the pack for western cultures were countries like Switzerland and Australia, where people average over 9600 steps per day.

The Japanese clocked in at just over 7100 steps a day.

But those of us in the US struggle to make it past an average 5000 steps a day.

And as I see it, it's not just an exercise thing or a saving money thing.

The fact that we don't like to walk also means we miss out on social opportunities.

It's hard to form a community and develop relationships with our neighbors from inside our cars.

I wonder what opportunities we Americans could find if we just committed to a walk now and then.

What encounters could come out of that?

Our gospel reading for today contains a powerful encounter that comes as a result of a walk.

It's a story that immediately follows Luke's account of the resurrection in verses 1-12, telling of the disciples disbelief and confusion as the women return with a story of an empty tomb and a risen rabbi.

We pick it up in verse 13 of chapter 24, which begins with the words, "Now that same day."

Meaning...it's still the day of the Resurrection. It’s still Easter.

And Luke, as he often does, tells the story with beautiful and rich detail and meaning.

Here you have two of Jesus' followers, one named Cleopas, another unnamed. Some scholars speculate it was Cleopas' wife.

They're making their way to a village called Emmaus, and they're talking about everything that has happened over the past couple of days, from Jesus' arrest to his trial to his death, and now to this unbelievable report that his grave is now empty.

And suddenly a man joins them, it's Jesus, but they don't know that.

Luke records that they were kept from recognizing him.

Some think they're blinded by their despair, but the Greek verb used here calls to mind the image of being restrained, being held back, which seems to indicate that it's God himself who is keeping them from recognizing Jesus.

It seems to me that God has a purpose, something he wants to show them before they can truly encounter Jesus as the risen Christ.

It's a teaching moment.

And so Jesus asks them, "What are you talking about as you walk?"

And Luke says they stood still, their faces downcast.

It's a simple description, but a powerful one.

They are so shocked by the question that they are stopped dead in their tracks.

It seems so impossible that anyone could have been in Jerusalem and not known what has just taken place.

And now, they realize, they're going to have to relate the details to this seeming stranger.

If you've ever lost a loved one, you know that feeling.

When someone asks, "What's going on?" And you realize you have to tell the story again.

And I can picture Cleopas taking a deep breath and steadying himself as he begins to tell it.

"We're talking about Jesus of Nazareth. He was a prophet. He spoke God's word. He did miraculous things. He pointed people to God. But the chief priests and our rulers had him arrested and sentenced to death, and they crucified him."

And then...four words that, if you really understand what's behind them, just rip your heart out.

But. We. Had. Hoped.

One scholar has said these are four of the saddest words in all of Scripture.

But we had hoped.

They summarize the heartache and the loss and the confusion and the despair that the friends and followers of Jesus felt after the crucifixion.

But...we had hoped.

I'm sure there are many of us here who have spoken similar words in the face of a dying dream.

But we had hoped...we thought things would be different.

We weren't prepared for this...we weren't expecting this.

This wasn't supposed to happen!

I wonder if you can resonate with those words. I can.

And what a good thing to remember that even in the midst of those "we had hoped" moments...Christ walks with us, even if we don't realize it.

Cleopas and his walking partner don't realize it, but they feel comfortable enough to bear their souls to this stranger in their midst.

"We had hoped that he was the one who was going to redeem Israel."

And they relate to him their confusion over the reports, just a few hours old, that some women found Jesus' tomb empty, and had claimed that he was actually risen from the dead.

"Then," they continue," some of our companions went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said, but they didn't see Jesus."

Do you catch the irony in that statement?

They didn't see Jesus.

So they finish their story, and I have to wonder if they stand there a moment and wait for this stranger to offer them words of consolation and compassion.

"You poor things...I'm so sorry you had to go through that. I'll be praying for you."

So you can imagine their shock when he opens his mouth and basically says:

Don’t be stupid!

Are so foolish and dense that you don’t see what’s happening?

Scripture tells us this is what was supposed to happen.

And he leads them in a Bible study. About himself.

And as he does, something happens.

Later on they describe it. They say that their hearts were burning within them.

As they listen to Jesus walk them through the prophets and the promises, as they are told once again about God's amazing plan of redemption, it's as though their hearts are on fire.

And I think there's an important truth in this for us, and here it is:

There's a big difference between reading the Bible and spending time with the Author.

John Wesley, one of the greatest preachers and theologians the church has ever known, had his own Emmaus Road experience through the hearing of Scripture in May of 1738. Here’s how he describes it:

“I went very unwillingly to a society in Aldersgate Street where one was reading Luther’s preface to the Epistle to the Romans. About a quarter before nine, while he was describing the change which God works in the heart through faith in Christ, I felt my heart strangely warmed. I felt I did trust in Christ, Christ alone, for salvation, and an assurance was given me that He had taken away my sins—even mine—and saved me from the law of sin and death.”

Think about it for a moment: The words Wesley heard were three times removed.:

(1) The speaker was reading (2) Luther’s commentary on (3) Paul’s Epistle to the Romans.

Yet even three times removed…Jesus was there. Wesley met Jesus there.

That's the power of Scripture when it's read with the understanding that we don't have to come to this book alone.

The Author himself desires to meet with us as we study his word.

He desires to reveal himself. That’s the joy of reading Scripture.

It’s not just learning about God…it’s meeting with God.

It’s coming to know God better as he reveals himself through his word.

And when we grasp that, we are opening our hearts to know that burning, that fire...that warmth that Wesley described.

In fact, I'm certain it's that fire that made Cleopas and his friend so reluctant to say goodbye to their new companion.

Because when they arrive at the village, Jesus, Luke records, makes like he's going to keep walking.

Which is a good reminder as well—Jesus never forces himself into your life. He waits for your invitation.

And that burning in their hearts has made Cleopas and his companion hungry for more.

They urge him to stay, and he does.

And that night at the table, the veil is finally lifted from their eyes.

"When he was at the table with them, he took bread, gave thanks, broke it and began to give it to them. Then their eyes were opened and they recognized him, and he disappeared from their sight."

What a powerful image for us.

Jesus is known in the breaking of bread.

Something supernatural happens...again, Jesus is revealed.

Just as he's revealed in Scripture...Jesus is revealed at the table.

That’s one of the things that makes communion so significant.

It's an invitation to us to meet with and recognize Jesus for who he is: the risen Lord who desires us to walk with him and know him more and more.

And what happens when we encounter him in this way?

Look what happens to Cleopas and his friend:

"They got up and returned at once to Jerusalem. There they found the Eleven and those with them, assembled together and saying, “It is true! The Lord has risen and has appeared to Simon.” Then the two told what had happened on the way, and how Jesus was recognized by them when he broke the bread."

Having met with Christ on the road, having been stirred by Scripture, having recognized Christ as bread was broken, they can't help but run and tell others what they've heard and seen.

When we encounter Christ, we can't stop ourselves from talking about it.

It's as natural as breathing.

And what we have here in the Emmaus Road story is a perfect picture of what the church of Jesus Christ is supposed to be all about.

It's why we meet here every Sunday, and it's why Sunday morning worship is so important.

It begins as we walk through those doors with all of our stuff, all of our baggage, all of our "we had hoped" frustrations and disappointments.

We come trusting that Christ can meet us right where we are, just as he joined those disciples on the road to Emmaus.

And then we look to the Scriptures, God's word read and proclaimed.

Because we believe his word is living. It is active.

It is able to reveal to us what we need to understand about God...and ourselves.

And as we dwell in Scripture...we also worship.

We share in song, prayer, and table, believing that the Spirit of God is at work in these to reveal himself to us.

That Christ may be encountered and known in a deeper and more powerful way.

And then, having met Christ right where we are, having heard his word to us, having seen him in worship and sacrament...

We go out.

We go out into a world that doubts he is real, that doubts he is risen.

And we run to them...we shout it with all our might: "It's true! He is risen!"

In just a moment, we’re going to participate in communion together.

But before I do, I’d like to ask you to put yourself into this story for a moment.

Where are you on your journey to Emmaus?

Are you walking in sadness and confusion over the twists and turns life seems to have taken?

Are you stuck in a "but we had hoped" moment, wondering how to recover from yet another disappointment?

Are you feeling dry or burned out, are you needing a fresh encounter with Christ through his word, through worship and the breaking of bread?

Or perhaps you're sitting at the table, and you realize Jesus has shown himself to you in a new way, and you're wondering just what to do with it.

Maybe he's calling you somewhere new to share the ways he's revealed himself to you.

Wherever you are...let's offer our Emmaus Roads to God and trust that he is more than able to meet with us and walk with us and provide us with all that we need for our journey.

[TRANSITION TO PRAYER]

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On this God’s day of rest, God’s day of resurrection, God’s day of the Spirit’s blessing, we are invited to come to the table of our Lord and share in communion with one another and with our God. The Lord’s table is open to all who love the Lord Jesus Christ as their Lord and Saviour. All he asks is that we come in a spirit of humility, willing to serve God and to serve one another.

Friends this is the promise of God’s grace and the assurance of his forgiveness:

With the Lord there is steadfast love, and with him is great power to redeem.

If anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new! All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation.

This is the table of reconciliation. As those who have been reconciled to God through Christ let us offer to him silent prayers of confession and gratitude, laying before him anything which might hinder our coming to this table, laying aside our hurts, our fears, our anger, our rebellion…all so we might fully embrace the grace offered to us in communion.

[SILENT PRAYER]

This is the table, Not of the Church, but of the Lord. It is to be made ready For those who love him and want to love him more. So, come, You who have much faith and you who have little, You who have been here often and you who have not been for a long time, You who have tried to follow and you who have failed. Come, Not because I invite you: It is our Lord. It is his will that those who want him Should meet him here

The Apostle Paul tells us:

For I received from the Lord what I also delivered to you, that the Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, ‘This is my body that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.’ In the same way he took the cup also, after supper, saying, ‘This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this as often as you drink it in remembrance of me.’ For as often as you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.

So, in the name of Christ and following his own example, we take this bread and this wine and give thanks to God. Let us pray:

It is both our joy and our duty to bring you our thanks, as creator, redeemer and sustainer. At the beginning of time you brought existence out of nothing, and gave it shape. You spoke, and life began. With your own hands you formed us from the dust and moulded us in your image.

When we ignored your voice and discovered evil you never abandoned us but sent prophets to call us back to you; and finally, when we had persisted in sin, you sent your Son, our redeemer. He was born as one of us; he shared our pain; healed our wounds; and taught us the truth. He welcomed the sinner, and touched the unclean; yet he was rejected and killed.

Death could not hold him and after three days he broke from the tomb and appeared to the women; though others would not believe them, the good news spread.

By the presence of the Spirit, still he is with us. He renews our lives, and makes us into one body. The hearts of his people are filled with faith, hope and love. Now we can praise you with the whole church throughout the world and in every time as we celebrate this feast at your own table. By the Spirit’s presence we know Jesus’ words to be true as we share his gifts and hear him say:

This is my body. This is my blood of the covenant. As we eat and drink together we look to the past, as we remember his living, dying and rising; we look to the present, as we celebrate his presence and declare that he is Lord of all; and we look to the future as we prepare for the day when we shall drink the wine new with him in his Father’s kingdom.

Amen.

‘The bread that we break, is it not a sharing in the body of Christ? Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of one bread.’

‘The cup of blessing that we bless, is it not a sharing in the blood of Christ?’

(INSTRUCTIONS)

TRANSITION TO HYMN