Awake Again
Easter Communion Service
The two disciples on the road to Emmaus are consumed with despair. They explain to the stranger, the risen Jesus in disguise, “We had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel.” Listen to that phrase, “we had hoped.” Hope is in the past tense.
The two disciples had heard the story of the women at the tomb, yet weren’t ready to contemplate what it could mean. They tell the stranger what happened, debriefing their trauma in a way, touching base with the physical facts to help them come to terms with their shock. From there, they talk with the stranger about the law and the prophets and what that had to do with the way events unfolded. Perhaps Jesus-in-disguise is preparing their minds for what is about to happen. Or perhaps the group is taking refuge in intellectualizing their experience rather than feeling their feelings. Either way, the two disciples do not recognize Jesus, even when they are impressed by his knowledge of sacred text.
As night is falling, the disciples invite the stranger to stay with them, an act of compassion, a thought for the safety of the stranger. Remember these disciples are fleeing an experience of violence and persecution, yet they favor hospitality over fear. The spiritual revelation to come next could not have happened without their initiative to reach out. The door is open to a deeper experience.
Finally, when the stranger “took the bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them,” the two disciples awakened to what had been in front of them all the time: the presence of Jesus. Sitting down together at the table, knowing one another in the breaking of the bread, was the key to re-connecting with their hopes. Breaking the bread is an act of hospitality and trust, a sensory experience, an embodied practice rather than an intellectual analysis. The story outlines a path to relationship with the Spirit of Life, one that requires courage, compassion, and a willingness to enter the non-rational space of ritual.
The women at the tomb wonder that they find it empty. They are asked, “Why do you seek the living among the dead?” This question communicates more than one thing in a short time. The question conveys that Jesus is alive. The question also contains a kind of instruction: seek the living. The angel is redirecting their search, away from lamentation and back toward the living world.
Seek the living. We need to eat and drink in order to live. We value practices that tie us to the material world, the world of our everyday experience that yet simultaneously brings us into contact with the sacred. We awaken our senses to hear and see and taste and touch the beauty of creation, and also the vulnerability and woundedness we share that calls us to minister to one another. Seek the living. Find the Source of Life reflected in everything that grows and changes, in every face you meet on the road.
There are so many things that stand between us and being awake to the reality of our oneness. Shock. Despair. Habit. Pain. Fear of vulnerability. Exhaustion. When we return to the community and regard one another with reverence and love, we are awake again. When we care for the earth in stewardship, with abundance and respect, we are awake again. When we create and sustain beauty, we are awake again. Seek the living. Break the bread. Dare to hope. Let us awaken, again, and again, and again.
So be it. Blessed be. Amen.
The two disciples on the road to Emmaus are consumed with despair. They explain to the stranger, the risen Jesus in disguise, “We had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel.” Listen to that phrase, “we had hoped.” Hope is in the past tense.
The two disciples had heard the story of the women at the tomb, yet weren’t ready to contemplate what it could mean. They tell the stranger what happened, debriefing their trauma in a way, touching base with the physical facts to help them come to terms with their shock. From there, they talk with the stranger about the law and the prophets and what that had to do with the way events unfolded. Perhaps Jesus-in-disguise is preparing their minds for what is about to happen. Or perhaps the group is taking refuge in intellectualizing their experience rather than feeling their feelings. Either way, the two disciples do not recognize Jesus, even when they are impressed by his knowledge of sacred text.
As night is falling, the disciples invite the stranger to stay with them, an act of compassion, a thought for the safety of the stranger. Remember these disciples are fleeing an experience of violence and persecution, yet they favor hospitality over fear. The spiritual revelation to come next could not have happened without their initiative to reach out. The door is open to a deeper experience.
Finally, when the stranger “took the bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them,” the two disciples awakened to what had been in front of them all the time: the presence of Jesus. Sitting down together at the table, knowing one another in the breaking of the bread, was the key to re-connecting with their hopes. Breaking the bread is an act of hospitality and trust, a sensory experience, an embodied practice rather than an intellectual analysis. The story outlines a path to relationship with the Spirit of Life, one that requires courage, compassion, and a willingness to enter the non-rational space of ritual.
The women at the tomb wonder that they find it empty. They are asked, “Why do you seek the living among the dead?” This question communicates more than one thing in a short time. The question conveys that Jesus is alive. The question also contains a kind of instruction: seek the living. The angel is redirecting their search, away from lamentation and back toward the living world.
Seek the living. We need to eat and drink in order to live. We value practices that tie us to the material world, the world of our everyday experience that yet simultaneously brings us into contact with the sacred. We awaken our senses to hear and see and taste and touch the beauty of creation, and also the vulnerability and woundedness we share that calls us to minister to one another. Seek the living. Find the Source of Life reflected in everything that grows and changes, in every face you meet on the road.
There are so many things that stand between us and being awake to the reality of our oneness. Shock. Despair. Habit. Pain. Fear of vulnerability. Exhaustion. When we return to the community and regard one another with reverence and love, we are awake again. When we care for the earth in stewardship, with abundance and respect, we are awake again. When we create and sustain beauty, we are awake again. Seek the living. Break the bread. Dare to hope. Let us awaken, again, and again, and again.
So be it. Blessed be. Amen.