Finding Christ Outside of the Meal - Redeemer Episcopal Church

Luke 24:13-35 New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)

The Walk to Emmaus

13 Now on that same day two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem, 14 and talking with each other about all these things that had happened. 15 While they were talking and discussing, Jesus himself came near and went with them, 16 but their eyes were kept from recognizing him. 17 And he said to them, “What are you discussing with each other while you walk along?” They stood still, looking sad. 18 Then 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?” 19 He 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, 20 and how our chief priests and leaders handed him over to be condemned to death and crucified him. 21 But 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. 22 Moreover, some women of our group astounded us. They were at the tomb early this morning, 23 and 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. 24 Some 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.” 25 Then he said to them, “Oh, how foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have declared! 26 Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into his glory?” 27 Then beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them the things about himself in all the scriptures.

28 As they came near the village to which they were going, he walked ahead as if he were going on. 29 But 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. 30 When he was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. 31 Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him; and he vanished from their sight. 32 They 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?” 33 That same hour they got up and returned to Jerusalem; and they found the eleven and their companions gathered together. 34 They were saying, “The Lord has risen indeed, and he has appeared to Simon!” 35 Then they told what had happened on the road, and how he had been made known to them in the breaking of the bread.

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This sermon was preached by me for our April 26, 2020 morning prayer service for a specific context to a specific people. I hope that it can also speak to you amid the COVID-19 public health crisis. You can read my manuscript below or you can listen to the audio at this link. You can also watch the entire morning prayer service at this link. 

Let us pray. 

God who is known and recognized in the breaking of the bread, make yourself known to us now. Reveal yourself to us in this time when you often feel so distant. Amen. 

Like many people during this time of social distancing and isolation, I am finding myself having a bit more time for spiritual practices and things I wouldn’t normally have time for while I was working on campus regularly. In my newly found time, I have been helping lead a small group called “Abide.” We meet weekly and one of the purposes of the small group is to notice where God is present around us during this time and share it with our small group members. Because sometimes it feels like God is really far away when we are going through change, grief, or difficulties and we need to be reminded that God is, in fact present. 

So that’s what we do. We get together over video every week and talk about where God is in our lives. 

In the story we hear this morning, two of Jesus’ followers walk to Emmaus and Jesus walks with them, speaking to them, questioning them, reprimanding them a bit, and ultimately being present with them. But it is not until Jesus breaks bread with them that they recognize him. 

It’s hard for me to not relate to this story intensely. I, too, recognize Jesus most fully in the breaking of the bread, in the Holy Meal of Christ’s body and blood. I was told a few months ago that I preach about baptism and Holy Communion A LOT. It’s because they are my favorite things in the whole world. And I can be reminded of our baptism each week, but I get to see, and touch, and smell, and taste and even hear the breaking of the body and blood of Christ Jesus every week. It is so tactile and moves me so much. I sometimes joke that I became a priest just so I could be the first in line at this holy table. 

I know that is has been incredibly difficult not being present here at the church building to gather with one another in worship. I feel it too. But even more than that, we have been away from this table for so long. We have not been nourished by the body and blood for such a long time. We may have forgotten how it tastes, feels, sounds, smells, and looks. We may not even fully realize how much our hearts long for it right now. I feel it too, my beloveds. 

And I also recognize that I had taken it for granted. It was the way I MOST recognized Christ, which made it much more difficult for me to recognize Christ anywhere else. How can anything be as beautiful and perfect a reminder of our Jesus’ presence with us? 

And now that we cannot gather for the meal, this feast, now that we are not able to come to this table, are we able to recognize Jesus? 

Oh dear friends, it is difficult. When we have our normalcy and our routine is ripped out from under us, it is difficult to find God in the mess. But God does hear our cries and supplications. And even if we don’t recognize him, Jesus is with us along this road that is so full of disappointment and grief. 

Jesus is walking alongside us, bidding us keep walking, asking us to continue to hope. Just as Jesus was present on the road to Emmaus, he is present here with us now. Not even death could keep him from us. 

But I am reminded that this journey to Emmaus happens on the day of Jesus’ resurrection. On the same day that the women run from the tomb proclaiming the risen Christ, there are those who doubt and wait for more to be revealed. There are these two on the path stretched out before them, grieving the death of their friend and teacher, unable to comprehend the good news of the resurrection, unable to recognize their savior walking beside them. 

All this is to say that sometimes resurrection takes a while. Sometimes resurrection takes a few days, perhaps even several weeks. “Sometimes new life comes in fits and starts,” Debie Thomas tells us, “sometimes seeing and recognizing the risen Christ is hard.”

God is with us, even when we don’t recognize it. God is actually even more present with us when we don’t recognize God’s presence. 

Yes, of course, God is in the breaking of the bread, but God is in so much more than just that. 

That small group that I talked about before is called “Abide” for a reason. We come together each week as a small community to abide with one another, to abide in God’s presence, and remind one another that God abides with us. God is present with us when we gather in community and we need each other to be reminded on that because we so often forget. 

We forget that God is in morning prayer each Sunday, God is in our gathering together even if it is physically apart from one another. God is in the Zoom Bible studies and the food pantry ministry. God is in the text you send to your lonely neighbor and God is there on the evening walk with your family. God is there in the protective masks and the quiet, patient conversations you have with your children. 

As much as we long to be in this building together again, and I know we long for it, because even though I stand here, I long for your faces and your embrace and your presence. As much as we long to be here in this place we are reminded over and over again in this time that God is not confined here.

God is present in the meal, oh but God cannot be limited to the meal. And I thank God for that difficult but comforting reminder. 

I leave you with these wise words from Debie Thomas: “So keep walking.  Keep telling the story.  Keep honoring the stranger. Keep attending to your burning heart. Christ is risen. He is no less risen on the road to Emmaus than he is anywhere else.  So look for him.  Listen for him.  And when he lingers at your door, honoring your freedom, but yearning to feed you, say what he longs to hear:  Stay with me.”  And invite him in. Amen. 

Live among God's faithful people

I think there is a reason that baptismal covenants often start with something about relationships.

Do you intend to continue in the covenant God made with you in holy baptism: to live among God's faithful people?

Relationships are quite possibly the most important part of our faith lives. Bonhoeffer's famous book about the Christian life is appropriately named Life Together. We simply cannot be followers of Christ without being in relationship with others. It's not possible.

For many people who were raised within Christian households, this may be second nature. We attended worship services, Bible studies, Sunday School, and maybe some of our closest friends and our parents' friends were from the congregation in which we grew up. It just made sense to live life together as God's people. But sometimes the church, as we experience it growing up, is not the best place for growing toward relationship with others or even toward relationship with God.

I invite you to hear Derek's story as he shared it with me:

"LCM [Lutheran Campus Ministry] taught me what it means to live among God’s faithful people. I grew up in a large church that was impersonal, isolating, and, at times, abusive. Even though I attended this church for over a decade, there was always a metaphorical wall between me and the people that I saw every Sunday: I was afraid to be vulnerable with anyone there. I actually walked away from religion entirely for several years after leaving this church. LCM was instrumental in helping me heal from this experience. At LCM, I found a community where I did not have to wear a mask or put up a front. I began to feel close to God and to other people for the first time in my life. There is, perhaps, a reason that “living among God’s faithful people” is listed first in the baptismal promises: it is difficult to share in God’s word, proclaim the good news, serve others, and strive for justice if there is no foundational sense of community. I am grateful to LCM for providing me with the fellowship and solidarity that I needed to begin to live out these other promises."

Campus ministry provides an opportunity for many students to not only find a new community in Christ, but oftentimes heal from the experiences of previous communities. Simply being in relationship with people who are struggling through the same life situations as you can be immensely helpful in furthering your faith. When we live among God's faithful people, we begin to understand ourselves and our God more fully. No one understands this sentiment more than Alex Long, who spent two years as in intern for campus ministry.

"For two years I lived in a church basement.  I was the ministry intern at Jacob's Porch, the Lutheran campus ministry at Ohio State, and part of the salary included housing in the church.  I was on scene for all the joys and triumphs of being a college student, as well as all the dramas and doubts.  I was blessed to see the day by day faith lives of dozens of people I still call friends and family.  From Bible studies to random sleepovers, sermons to coffee breaks, worship services to concerts, study breaks to trumpet practice at 9 in the morning, I was there for all of it.  There was nothing more rewarding and more draining than to live among God's faithful people.  And, there was nothing that helped my faith life more than helping others' faith lives.  My faith grew more deeply and richly than it ever would have done if I hadn't been the Porch intern and resident.  Living among God's people is not only a good thing to do for a solid faith life, I believe that it is a necessary thing to do for one's self."

It is not that students are unable to find their own clubs, social engagements, and groups to be a part of in college. But how many of these clubs are truly helping students form relationship, fellowship, and faithfulness during an incredibly challenging time in their lives? Campus ministry has an opportunity to be a place of safety, questioning, and encouragement for people struggling and celebrating through this formative time. Campus ministry has the opportunity to be a beautiful place in which we live among God's faithful people now, and for years to come.

The Expedition

A friend and colleague shared this poem as we considered how to leave our congregations and say goodbye "well." I don't know if there is a way to say goodbye well to the people who have captured my heart and lovingly pulled me into their family so quickly and fully, but I will try and try again until I have expended enough words on these loved ones. So tonight I share not my own words, but the words of another, more poetic writer... 


The Expedition 

by Anthony de Mello

My time here has come to an end, 

And I think of the days that I have spent in these surroundings.

I see an image of myself as I was when I came here

And I look at my self as I am today

At the close of this time.

I think of the persons and places that have been a part of my time here.

To each of them I speak in gratitude.

And to each I say goodbye. 

Other places, other persons call to me,

and I must go. 

I think of the experiences I have had,

The graces I have been granted

In this place.

For each of these too, I am grateful.

I think of the kind of life I have lived here,

The atmosphere, the daily schedule.

I say goodbye:

Another type of life awaits me,

Other graces, other experiences.

And I say goodbye to persons,

places, 

things, 

events,

experiences,

and graces, 

I do so under life's imperious biddings.

If I wish to be alive

I must learn to die at every moment.

That is, to say goodbye, let go, move on. 

When this is done, I turn to face the future

And I say, "Welcome."

I think of the work that waits for me,

The people I shall meet,

The type of life I shall be living, 

The events that will take place tomorrow.

And I extend my arms in welcome

To the summons of the future.

Our Visit to the National Mosque

Last week we went to the National Mosque in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. And let me tell you, I learned a lot. I wanted to share some of the things I learned and how my heart has been changed this year, because I know not everyone has a chance to live in a beautiful country like this one and I understand some people don't feel comfortable asking potentially offensive questions about our Muslim sisters and brothers.

Wait back up- you voluntarily went to a mosque?

Islam has an incredibly obvious influence on Malaysia's culture, people, architecture, and basically every other part of Malaysia. We wanted to not only see this incredible landmark, but we hoped to learn a little more about what makes Malaysia so unique and beautiful. We also couldn't pass up this opportunity to learn more about our sisters and brothers. 

Did you have to wear one of those things on your head? 

People who enter mosques, whether they are Muslim or tourists, are expected to respect and observe the modesty enforced by the religion. Knowing this, I gladly ventured to the mosque in a long skirt and long sleeves, carrying a scarf to cover my head when we arrived. Daniel and his brother wore long pants and shirts with sleeves as is expected of them. We also took off our shoes, as we were instructed, before entering the main area of the mosque. 

Didn't you feel oppressed, having to cover your head like that? 

I have become fairly used to dressing modestly here in Malaysia. My experience as a pastor this year has also changed my view on modesty - especially as it pertains to my religious beliefs and piety. It is beautifully expressed in the pamphlet I picked up inside the mosque: 

"Women are not here to be displayed. Her body is not for public consumption. She will not be an advertisement tool. She has a soul, a mind, and she is the servant of Allah. Her worth is defined by the beauty of her soul, her heart, her moral character. With her headscarf she put her faith on display rather than her beauty. Her submission is not to fashion, nor to men, but to the Creator." (Read the rest of the pamphlet here.) 

It seems that Islam has a better view of women than many Christian churches I have encountered (sorry 'bout it).

Hijaab (modest dress) is not only to cover nudity, to protect, and to decorate, but it is the spiritual clothing of "piety," similar to the way a nun or monk might wear a habit or hood. It is a symbol of her identity as a Muslim, in the same way my collar identifies me as a pastor.

Right, but Daniel didn't have to cover his head. 

Men are also expected to observe a certain dress code within Islam. For both genders, clothes are to be modest and humble (loose, not transparent, nothing showy). Men are expected to be covered from their navel to their knees.

So people were nice to you? They didn't kick you out since you're Americans?

All the people we encountered were not only super welcoming, but they seemed genuinely interested in answering our questions. We weren't entirely sure what to expect, but they told us about the main prayer room and made sure we knew we could pick up informational pamphlets. They pamphlets (very obviously directed toward tourists) were written in several languages including English, Spanish, Mandarin, Portuguese, Italian, and German. I picked up the ones that seemed most interesting (read: things I knew nothing about) like "Hijaab" (mentioned above), "The Shariah," "How does a lady raised in Alabama become a Muslim?" and "Jihad."

So what else did you learn? 

Jihad is the duty of Muslims to struggle for peace, justice and truth. The pamphlet says "fighting tyranny, corruption, exploitation, occupation and oppression is jihad."

The forceful, defensive parts of the pamphlets made me sad that they even needed to include them. But it must be said more often that "to say Muslim terrorists represent Islam is like saying the Ku Klux Klan represents Christianity." The pamphlet that explains Shariah says that the majority (about 70%) deals with rituals of worship, about 25% deals with personal laws (like dietary regulations), and only 5% are penal laws for "crimes which are most destructive for society and the family, like murder, adultery and theft."

In truth, there was nothing to be afraid of or even nervous about, walking into that mosque. And there is nothing to be afraid of when it comes to Islam. We have a lot in common with our Muslim sisters and brothers - even if we aren't able to see it right away (there may be a crazy comparative theology blog post coming soon).

I certainly understand people's hesitation or fear (whichever it might be) when it comes to the public displays of devotion and piety of Islam. Before moving to Malaysia, I didn't see many people in hijaab in my daily life. I never walked into a mosque before last week. But I have come to understand that our fear is mostly caused by the unknown. When we begin to learn about those who are seemingly unlike us, we can start to see common ground and understand one another.

It's my prayer that my fear of the unknown will always be overshadowed by my love for God's children and my desire for understanding. It is my prayer for you, my friends and family, as well. I know it's not easy, but it starts with small steps - like taking off our shoes (sometimes covering our heads) and stepping into the holy unknown.

Words Like Accompaniment

This past week has been a wonderful roller coaster.  I had the insane privilege of meeting 12 fellow "missionaries" who are all preparing for their own crazy adventures over the next year (or three).

Photo by Jenna B.

Now I say "missionaries" in quotations not because I doubt their credibility as "missionaries," but because I don't consider myself a part of the pack.  You see, most people at this conference are giving up their families, friends, loved ones, and congregations to teach or volunteer for a year or more of Global Mission.  It would discredit these fine people to say I am doing the same.

But there is a sense in which I will be a missionary for the next year.  Internship is a little bit different than what most other are doing with Global Missions (I am in an established English-speaking congregation in a large city), but I have already been sucked into the language and mindset of missionary work within the ELCA.

I've learned how to use words like accompaniment, mission, solidarity, inclusivity, mutuality, vulnerability, sustainability, and empowerment when talking about what the Church does and how they do it.

We have learned so much and we have so much left to learn, but what has impacted me the most is the bond that has formed between us in this short amount of time.  It is so comforting to know that as Daniel and I travel this next year, we will not be alone.  We will simply be joining the stories of all the missionaries who have gone before us, walking with the missionaries sent out this year, and paving the way for missionaries who will come after us.

Photo by Jenna B at The Bean in Chicago, IL

Saying goodbye to the rest of this group is bound to be full of heartbreak (as was saying goodbye to the two people who already left this week).  But I am so thankful for this community and the support that we will provide for one another over the next few years as we continue, end, and start seminary education, as we figure out what in the world we are doing with our lives, and as we journey with one another and Christ into the unknown and ever-exciting field of Global Mission.