Richard Kuns
But they were not able to recognize who he was…
At that moment, open-eyed, wide-eyed, they recognized him…
Didn’t we feel on fire as he conversed with us on the road?...
Then the two went over everything that happened on the road and how they recognized him when he broke the bread…
And while they were saying all this, Jesus appeared to them and said, “Peace be with you.” They thought they were seeing a ghost and were scared half to death.
(Luke 24:16, 31-32, 35-37, The Message)
Dear friends,
Nothing feels right! My daily routines are turned upside down! Sue and I shelter at home. Our community of faith can gather only via live streaming on my computer. It is just so strange and unsettling.
As these, and other thoughts, bounce back and forth in my monkey mind, the episode remembered and told to us by Luke sounds perfectly reasonable. They know Jesus but they don’t recognize him. They hear the sound of his voice, but they don’t know it belongs to Jesus. Jesus reminds them of scriptures they have probably known from youth, but they do not know who is teaching them. Jesus is a complete “stranger” to them.
Nothing seems right to those two men on the way to Emmaus. They only know that their hope and dream was shattered, and their confused, disappointed hearts could not comprehend that the one who joined their short journey to Emmaus was Jesus -- after all, he was dead and buried.
We might want to spend time deciphering this strange story, but it really wouldn’t help us. When our lives are turned upside down and shaken at a moment’s notice, even the most familiar escapes our comprehension and we lose focus. So we take a long walk in hope of settling our mind -- it was 7 miles to Emmaus for these two men. Sometimes it works, but when we are done, the confusion is still there.
And then it happened! They decided to invite this “stranger” to join them at dinner. After all, they thought, this “stranger” has taken an unusual interest in our problem and he might find it difficult to get a meal elsewhere.
As they reclined at dinner, they noticed something about this man that triggered recognition--and it wasn’t what he said as much as what he did … And it happened that, as he reclined at the table with them, he took the loaf and blessed it and, having broken it, he shared it with them; and their eyes were opened… (Luke 24:30-31a, David Bentley Hart)
Even in our confusion and inability to see the beginning from the end, Jesus is near. As our Bishop Reddall shared with us last week in a touching video, “I just want Jesus in my home”. If we are brave enough to invite “the stranger” into our home, Jesus will commune with us and bring a confidence that overcomes our confusion, frustrations and fears. Let us break bread together with Jesus, even if at a distance.
Blessed are You, Holy One, Creator, Source of Life, Pilgrim’s Companion
“Look, bless the Lord, all servants of the Lord,
who stand in the Lord’s house through the nights.
Lift up your hands toward the Holy place and bless the Lord.
May the Lord bless you from Zion, He Who makes heaven and earth.”
(Psalm 134:1-3, A Song of Ascent, Robert Alter) Grant, Gracious Lord, wine for our journey that we may never thirst;
bread for our journey that we may never hunger;
companions for the journey that we may never be alone.
With raised hands we honor and praise You!
With open hands we receive the gift of abundant life. AMEN.
(Written during Holy week 2019 for the Mosaic Dinner by Richard. R. Kuns)
As I wrote this meditation an article in the Episcopal News Service caught my eye. The Cathedral Church of St. John the Divine in NYC has decided to open its closed doors to become a temporary 400-bed hospital. I was reminded of a book I read in 2016 titled Field Hospital: The Church’s Engagement with a Wounded World by William Cavanaugh. The author introduces the book by citing Pope Francis’ vision of the Church functioning as a mission outpost, a field hospital for the wounded, the sick, the “lost” in a dark and fear-mongering world. In this instance, The Cathedral Church of St. John the Divine is literally becoming a field hospital in the midst of New York City. Welcoming the stranger has real meaning. Thanks be to God!
Richard Kuns