Sermons
"On the Road"Pastor Russell Norris |
"On the Road". I suspect the title of this morning's sermon will mean different things to different people. For some of us, who grew up in the fifties, it may bring back memories of Jack Kerouac and his novel, On the Road. Jack Kerouac was part of the postwar Beat Generation. The book was based on a series of spur-of-the-moment road trips across America by Kerouac and his friends. He wrote the book on what he called "the roll" a 120 foot long scroll of tracing paper typed single-space, without margins or paragraphs. After all, he was a part of the Beat Generation!
And if you don't remember Jack Kerouac, you might remember "On the Road" with Charles Kuralt, the CBS newsman who travelled America for thirty years in a Winnebago, finding stories that touched our hearts about ordinary people doing extraordinary things. Kuralt did pieces on horse-trading, on a school for unicyclists, on a gas station/poetry factory. He interviewed professional wrestlers, lumberjacks, whittlers, farmers, even a 104-year-old entertainer who performed in nursing homes. He died on the Fourth of July, 1997, and right up to the end he was always "on the road".
Well, this morning we're "on the road" again not with Kerouac or Kuralt, but this time with Cleopas and company. It's the evening of Easter Sunday. Two disciples are walking down a dusty road toward the little village of Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem. And as they walk, and as they talk, a stranger appears and joins the conversation
Kind of a strange way to start a church, wouldn't you say? Just two people on the road, going about their lives, who don't even recognize the Lord when they meet him face to face. And yet, strange as it seems, this is where the story of the church begins. This is where our story begins your story and mine.
In a way, though, it's kind of hard for us to get into the story; first of all, because we can't really appreciate the grief, the despair, the confusion those disciples must have felt. For us, you see, the tale's as homey, as familiar, as comfortable as a piece by Charles Kuralt. We already know how the story ends! We know how it's going to come out! We've already read the last chapter! And so, it's not easy to identify with how the disciples must have felt.
On top of that, it's really hard to understand how blind they were! I mean, here Jesus appears, walks with them, talks with them, "opens their minds to the Scriptures", and through all of that, not a glimmer, not a spark of recognition. Nothing! Nada! They have no idea! They simply don't recognize him. How is that possible?
There are lots of theories. Maybe Jesus didn't appear the same as he did before his resurrection. Or maybe, for some reason, their eyes were veiled. We just don't know. But I do know this: Confused, blind, hurting as they were, Jesus meets them there on that road. He doesn't wait to be invited. He doesn't wait for them to figure it all out. Jesus takes the initiative. He invites himself. And suddenly, as they walk and as they talk, Jesus is there.
Now it occurs to me that the story of the two disciples on the road to Emmaus is a lot like our story it's a lot like what happens here, in our worship on Sunday morning. I know that as we gather here in our pews, or on the radio, we come from all kinds of backgrounds, all kinds of life experiences. Like Cleopas and his friend, some of us are hurting, some of us are feeling lost, some of us don't know which way to turn. And we may not always recognize Jesus even when we meet him.
Nevertheless, here he meets us face to face. And that's important to know. It's important to know that Jesus is still with us, even when we don't see him, even when we don't recognize him. We have this promise: "Truly I say to you, wherever two or three of you are gathered in my name, there am I in the midst of you." No, we may not always recognize him, but we have his word, when we gather in this place, Jesus is here.
Not only did Jesus meet them there on that road, but "beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them the things about himself in all the scriptures." And again, it seems to me that something like that happens here every Sunday morning. Oh, I realize that Jesus isn't physically present in the same way he was for those first believers. No, it's not Jesus, but Anne and Ron and Russ and Cheryl who read the lesson each Sunday. And it's not the Lord, but Pastor Hilston and Pastor Norris who preach the sermon.
And yet, here, in the words of the Bible, in the words of the sermon, in the words and music of the liturgy and hymns, if we listen, if we listen carefully, we too can hear his voice, interpreting the things about himself in all the scriptures.
Many years ago, when I was a young pastor serving my first parish in Pennsylvania, I was invited to preach one year at the annual Community Thanksgiving Service. It happened to be held that year in the Assembly of God church. And as I stepped into the pulpit that night, I glanced down, and there, tacked to the podium, were these words from the Gospel of John: "Sir, we wish to see Jesus." Sir, we wish to see Jesus.
I don't think they put that there just for me! But I took it to heart. For it seems to me, that's what ought to happen every time the Bible is read or the sermon is preached. It's the hope of every pastor that when he or she steps into that pulpit, it's not the pastor's words you're going to hear, but the words of Jesus. It's not the pastor's face you're going to see, but the face of Christ. And if that doesn't happen and sometimes it doesn't then I don't care how clever or snappy it is, that sermon is a failure. Because you did not see Jesus.
Fortunately, we have the word and promise of Jesus himself: "Wherever two or three of you are gathered in my name, there am I in the midst of you and lo! I am with you always, to the close of the age." I'll be honest with you, that's often all that gives me the courage to stand up here every Sunday morning and preach the promise that Jesus will be with us.
But back to our two disciples on the road. As the story continues, they finally arrive at the little village of Emmaus. There they invite the Stranger to stop and stay for supper, which he does. But then a strange thing happens. The guest becomes the host. The Stranger takes the bread himself, blesses and breaks it, and gives it to Cleopas and his friend. And in that moment, in the breaking of the bread, they suddenly recognize just who this Stranger is. And he vanishes out of their sight.
Clearly, this "breaking of the bread" has something to do with Holy Communion. In fact, that's what those first Christians called the Lord's Supper. They called it "the breaking of the bread." And it was the glue, the cement that held together that little band of believers.
In the book of Acts you can hear an echo of the our gospel this morning: "And day by day, attending the Temple together and breaking bread in their homes, they partook of food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having favor with all the people."
You know, so often, when we think about Communion, we think about it in terms of Good Friday and the cross. We focus on our sins. We remember the words of St. Paul, "For as often as we eat of this bread and drink of this cup, we proclaim the Lord's death until he comes. Maybe that's why it's been said the two saddest moments in a Lutheran's life are funerals and Holy Communion .
But there's another side to Communion, and that's the side that comes through in our gospel lesson this morning. Communion is breaking bread with Jesus. Here, this morning, as we celebrate Communion, Jesus comes and shares himself with us in the breaking of the bread. Communion is a face-to-face encounter with the living God. And for those with eyes to see, Jesus is here in the breaking of the bread. And wouldn't it be grand to have that experience as often as we could?
As I tell the youngsters in the First Communion Class, Holy Communion should be a happy time, a joyful time, a time for loving and sharing and being together as a family; because we are a family children of God and brothers and sisters of Jesus Christ. In the breaking of the bread, Jesus our brother is here.
And so the disciples recognize the risen Lord in the breaking of the bread. And then what do they do about it? Do they sit down and have a Bible study check out all those scripture references Jesus gave? Or do they get down on their knees and have a prayer service? Do they decide to form a committee and study it?
No! The gospel says they rose at that very hour which was apparently rather late and took off for Jerusalem at full gallop. They hit the road. They moved out. They went to tell the other disciples and the whole world what they had heard and seen: Jesus is alive!
I said in the beginning that this is more than a Bible story. This is your story, and mine. For if Jesus really is alive if we've heard him in the Word and seen him in the Sacrament then by God (and I do mean "by God") that ought to make a difference in our lives. That ought to set our hearts on fire. That ought to make us get up off our pews and carry the good news out the doors of this church and into the rest of our lives.
If you really believe it if you really believe that Jesus is alive, that you've met him here this morning then don't you want to show that in your life? Don't you want to share that in your words and in your actions? Don't you want that to make a difference in how you live? That's what happens when you meet him on the road. Amen.