Hearts on Fire

Sunday, April 10th, 2005
Easter 3 (Communion Sunday)
Jerusalem Baptist Church, Emmerton VA
Luke 24:13-35
With deep gratitude to Dr. Brett Younger, pastor, Broadway Baptist Church, Ft. Worth, TX

13 Now on that same day two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem, 14and talking with each other about all these things that had happened. 15While they were talking and discussing, Jesus himself came near and went with them, 16but their eyes were kept from recognizing him. 17And he said to them, ‘What are you discussing with each other while you walk along?’ They stood still, looking sad. 18Then one of them, whose name was Cleopas, answered him, ‘Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have taken place there in these days?’ 19He asked them, ‘What things?’ They replied, ‘The things about Jesus of Nazareth, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, 20and how our chief priests and leaders handed him over to be condemned to death and crucified him. 21But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel. Yes, and besides all this, it is now the third day since these things took place. 22Moreover, some women of our group astounded us. They were at the tomb early this morning, 23and when they did not find his body there, they came back and told us that they had indeed seen a vision of angels who said that he was alive. 24Some of those who were with us went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said; but they did not see him.’ 25Then he said to them, ‘Oh, how foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have declared! 26Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into his glory?’ 27Then beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them the things about himself in all the scriptures. 28As they came near the village to which they were going, he walked ahead as if he were going on. 29But they urged him strongly, saying, ‘Stay with us, because it is almost evening and the day is now nearly over.’ So he went in to stay with them. 30When he was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. 31Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him; and he vanished from their sight. 32They said to each other, ‘Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?’ 33That same hour they got up and returned to Jerusalem; and they found the eleven and their companions gathered together. 34They were saying, ‘The Lord has risen indeed, and he has appeared to Simon!’ 35Then they told what had happened on the road, and how he had been made known to them in the breaking of the bread.

Last Sunday was a pretty stark contrast to Easter, wasn’t it? As you might know, historically, the highest attendance Sunday of the year is Easter. Would you care to venture a guess as to which is the lowest attended Sunday of the year? (The Sunday after Easter)

All the special music, the children singing, the sunrise service, the banners and pageantry can make you forget that at Easter, all we’re really hoping for is a moment when we believe, when we feel, when we know deep down that it’s true. If all goes well, we catch a glimpse, just a glimpse.

We’re here again, hoping for a moment, a hint of hope, a glimpse of grace, a sign of life, but we have to pay attention.

The first Easter began without anyone even imagining they would catch a glimpse. On Sunday afternoon, which was like Monday afternoon for the Jews, two dejected disciples are walking the dusty road home to Emmaus. They want life to go back to what it was before. But they know it will never be the same. They would like to believe that Jesus’ life and death are going to make some difference. But their chins are on their chests, their eyes are blank, and their faces are empty.

They don’t even hear his footsteps. Jesus joins them incognito and asks what they’ve been talking about. They can hardly believe it. ‘Where have you been? How can you NOT know what’s been going on?” They explain to the uninformed stranger that a prophet has been executed. They tell him about the hope that they had for Jesus, how they had followed, and how their hope had been crushed when Jesus was arrested and crucified. They had never known such a wonderful person. Jesus was gracious in everything that he did. He spoke as no one had ever spoken. He loved as no one had ever loved.

Some women are spreading rumors about an empty tomb and angels, but they know hopelessness when they feel it.

Then it’s Jesus’ turn to marvel at how they can be so completely uninformed. Now you wonder how long it takes to explain the scriptures, but the stranger lays it all out for them … and they don’t get it. Jesus himself leads a Bible study and nothing happens. This story is a source of great comfort for anyone who has ever led a Bible study for people whose eyes are glazed over.

When they arrive at the couple’s house, the risen Christ seems to have things to do and places to go, but they ask him to stay for supper. They can’t let him go, whoever he is. They ask him to say grace, and the stranger is suddenly in charge. The house may not belong to Jesus, but the supper does. He breaks bread, blesses it, gives it to them, and they open their eyes. They see that Jesus is with them … and then he’s GONE. Just a glimpse and he vanishes.

Then - and this part is worth noting - they walk the seven miles back to Jerusalem. By this time it must’ve been dark, except, in a way, it was during the day as they walked TOWARD Emmaus, that they walked in the dark. Now, at night, they’re walking in the light. That moment at the table has changed them, turned them around.

Now it’s easy not to notice, but there’s a worship service going on here. The preacher interprets the Bible; he takes the bread, blesses, breaks it, and gives it to them.

Scholars suggest that Luke has given us the order of worship for the early church. The scriptures are read and discussed, and then they share the Lord’s Supper. Justin Martyr wrote the oldest surviving account of a Christian worship service about sixty five years after the Gospel of Luke. Justin describes their Sunday service:

“And on the day called Sunday an assembly is held and the records of the apostles – we call them the Gospels and Epistles – or the writings of the prophets – the Old Testament – are read for as long as time allows. (For some of you, twelve O’clock is as long as time allows) Then, when the reading has finished, the one presiding, in a discourse, admonishes and encourages us to imitate these good things. Then we all stand up together and offer prayers, then bread and wine are brought forward, and the one presiding offers thanksgivings. And the wealthy who so desire, give what they wish as each chooses, and what is collected helps orphans and widows, and those who through sickness or any other cause are in need, and those in prison, and strangers sojourning among us. In a word, it takes care of all those who are in need.”

Now, they didn’t chime the hour, or have an organ on one side and a baby grand on the other, but the order of worship two thousand years ago is a lot like ours. We worship as they worshipped in the belief that we will meet God here. When the scriptures are preached, and the bread is broken, Luke says that Jesus is present.

We come each Sunday to this sanctuary, but it’s easy to miss Christ in worship, in part because we forget that Christ comes not because we make it so, but because this is Christ’s church. Sometimes we act as if WE make worship happen. If the preacher says something profound for a change, if the choir enunciates perfectly, if we get a seat right in front of a speaker, if the children in the row in front of us will sit still … if the deacons are sufficiently somber during communion, then we’ll have worship “right”.

We ARE here to give our best to God, but we do so understanding that we will not coerce Christ into our presence. Christ comes as a gift; he comes suddenly out of nowhere. We don’t even hear his footsteps. We’ll miss the sacred moments if we don’t look with more than our eyes, and listen with more than our ears. But if we seek God with our hearts and souls, we may catch a glimpse.

God comes in a phrase in a hymn, a word from the scripture, a hope during a prayer, a moment when we feel God with us, a moment when we are truly alive. And we shouldn’t expect much more than a moment. God is with us for the whole journey, but we feel it only in partial, obscure, muffled experiences of the sacred.

What we hope for is a fleeting glimpse that takes our breath away, makes our hearts burn within us. For, if we catch a glimpse, it can turn us around; if we look with all of our being and imagination, what we may see is God. What we may hear is the faint sound of a voice; somewhere deep within us, saying that there IS a purpose in this life, in OUR lives, whether we understand it completely or not.

Christ comes to explain our lives and our world in the light of the sacred stories; Christ joins us at this table, and gives us his life, so that we might share life together in his name. It’s all a gift.

Worship is a gift.

Christ’s presence among us is a gift.

And if we pay attention, and feel God with us, when God sets our hearts on fire, it’s a gift.

(Communion)