The Emmaus of Reconciliation

From Wellington Cathedral of St Paul

The Emmaus of Reconciliation 8 May 2011

The Revd Jenny Wilkens

• Acts 2:14,36-42
• 1 Peter 1:17-23
• Luke 24:13-35

http://wellingtoncathedral.org,nz/index.php/Sermons

It was our final day in Jerusalem and we were getting that feeling of 'full up to the brim with experiences and emotions - just about time to go home'. Perhaps it was just a little like the feelings those two travellers on the road to Emmaus must have had, full up to the brim and brimming over with the emotions of that dramatic weekend in Jerusalem. The emotions of shock and horror at the tragic events of Good Friday as Jesus was crucified, the numb grief of the Sabbath, our Holy Saturday, time stopped in suspended animation as they struggled to take in the enormity of the loss of their Lord, the loss of all their hopes: 'we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel'.

And then the myriad of mixed emotions of that first Easter day, the strange stories the women had told of an empty tomb, of a vision of angels, of Jesus' body gone, stolen, what? The rumour that Jesus was alive, but where was he? And so in their grief and lostness, Cleopas and his companion decided to do the most comforting thing they could, to go home to their village of Emmaus, not far from Jerusalem.

On our last day in Jerusalem, we too visited Emmaus, but there are in fact four possible sites for Emmaus, all with long historical and traditional links with the story, and we visited two of them. The first, now called in Arabic Abu Ghosh, is often called the Emmaus of Beauty, as it is now a Benedictine monastery with an ancient Crusader church and a beautiful garden setting, not unlike the Garden Tomb setting in Jerusalem. We shared in a very special Eucharist there, remembering Jesus at Emmaus as we read the Scriptures, and broke bread together.

We then visited another possible site for Emmaus, and I'll tell you more of that one later on. It was a reminder though that what is important in the Emmaus story is not knowing the exact place that the couple were going to, but rather what happened to them on the way, the journey was more significant than the destination. Perhaps that is so for many of the journeys of our lives - it is what we learn on the way, about God and about ourselves that really matters.

We don't know a lot about this couple of disciples walking from Jerusalem to Emmaus, and we only know the name of one of them, Cleopas (Lk 24:18). But it could well be that Cleopas was returning home with his wife - in John's gospel (19:25), we read that among those standing near the cross of Jesus were Jesus' aunt, Mary, the wife of Clopas, which is probably a variant of Cleopas. So these disciples would have been relatives of Jesus, not among the twelve, but among the wider group of Jesus' followers.

We can be immensely encouraged that the risen Jesus came to them when they were walking away from it all, in deep depression following these strange events and rumours that they could not grasp or understand. They had not 'got' the resurrection at all, indeed they were feeling worse than ever, they had given up and were on their way home to lick their wounds and grieve together. Yet Jesus comes to them just where they are, just as they are.

We are then presented with a problem in that they do not recognise Jesus, in fact we read they are 'kept from recognising him'. What is going on here? What is Jesus playing at? We are on the edge of the mystery of the risen Christ who is somehow in continuity with this creation, and yet is also part of the new creation, part of something we are not yet able to perceive or recognise. Jesus in his resurrected, glorified body is like us, but also beyond us, beyond our beck and call, beyond our control, beyond our grasp.

But lest we get frustrated with this new kind of Jesus, he quickly earths himself in the present reality for these two lost disciples - 'what are you talking about as you walk along?' I love Cleopas' honest response: where have you been the last few days? Under a rock or something? Are you the only one who doesn't know what's been happening in Jerusalem?

Jesus then graciously lets them tell their story, something we know is so helpful to people who are grieving. He lets them go over their story, retell how it has been for them. He listens to them share what their hopes had been for Jesus, and lets them recount those strange tales the women are telling that he is alive.

But then he puts them out of their misery, opens their eyes to see the bigger picture from the scriptures of what God was doing in the death of the Messiah: 'was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into his glory?' (24:26) Jesus would indeed redeem Israel, as they'd hoped, but not through the power of force, but rather the power of self-giving love. Jesus takes on the role of explainer and interpreter of the Scriptures, helping to put seemly meaningless events into the bigger context, the bigger perspective of God's saving work in the world.

And then Jesus lets them respond, lets them minister to him, just as he has to them. Doubtless this couple invited Jesus into their home, to eat with them, to offer hospitality and safety at the end of the day. But then Jesus seizes the initiative again - at the table, 'he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened and they recognised him'. How many times had they seen Jesus do that - take bread, bless it, break it and give it to them, maybe they had been at the Last Supper with the twelve, it's quite possible there was a larger group of Jesus' disciples and friends there. But regardless, no doubt they had shared many meals together with Jesus. To us of course it is a rich reminder that every time we share Eucharist together, take bread, bless it, break it, and give it, the risen Jesus is present in our midst, and our eyes are opened to his presence afresh.

'Their eyes were opened' (v31). Do you recall from the Creation stories of Genesis how the first humans ate of the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, and 'their eyes were opened' (Gen. 3:7)? Their eyes were opened to the possibility of choice, and the possibility of making good choices or bad choices, and we know the sorry results of that, affecting all humankind and all creation.

Now it is another couple whose eyes are opened to recognise the risen Jesus as the beginning of the new creation. And the risen Jesus calls us to live in the new creation in renewed relationship with God and each other. We are to live that out as the Body of Christ here on earth, feeding on Christ through word and sacrament. That is what keeps us going in the job we are called to do now, as we journey on with Christ. That is what keeps our hearts burning within us, as we feed on the Scriptures, and as Christ is made known to us each week in the breaking of bread together.

We are new creation people, Easter people, following in the footsteps of our risen Lord. We are called to work together for healed relationships with each other and with all creation.

I want to end by telling you of the second Emmaus site we visited near Jerusalem. It is called Imwas, which is very near to the word Emmaus, but is now near the site of the Latroun Trappist Monastery and vineyards. This place is often called the Emmaus of Reconciliation, because part of its ministry and mission is that some of its land is being used for a village where Jews and Palestinian Arabs - Jews, Muslims and Christians - are living together in community. There are about 50 families, and 1800 residents living together in a village. It is called Neveh Shalom in Hebrew, or Wahat al-Salam in Arabic – both names meaning in English 'Oasis of Peace'. Theirs is a costly living alongside each other, educating their children together, and trying to break down the walls that divide. They seek to be agents of reconciliation and a sign of hope.

What does it mean for us who hear the Scriptures every week, who break bread together week by week, to live out our lives as reconcilers here, to seek to be healers of relationships and healers of creation here?

Those of us who are part of the choir, or choristers, when we are working hard together, learning new things, under pressure, when there are times of change and uncertainty, it is not always easy to get on with each other, and we need to be quick to say sorry, to forgive, to be healers and reconcilers, to make new beginnings with each other. The family of the church is just like our families at home - there needs to be lots of grace, lots of patience, lots of saying sorry and making new beginnings with each other, just as God does with us.

And we're not on our own: as we seek to live as new creation people, as Easter people, wherever we are called to be, the risen Christ is with us on our journey. Thanks be to God.