April 26, 2020 is the second week of our Isolated sermon series. This week, we’re looking at the Walk to Emmaus story from Luke 24:13-35.

Isolated: Meeting God When We Think We’re Alone

April 19 – “Peace in a Locked Room”

April 26 – “A Lonely Journey”

May 3 – “The Gospel Can’t Be Confined”

May 10 – “God in the Silence”

 

 

Here’s the worship service video:

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and our Risen Lord, Jesus Christ. Amen

I saw a great video the other day titled “Explaining the pandemic to my past self.” It’s a woman imagining traveling a few months back in time and explaining to her January self what’s happening in the world today. She can’t say exactly what’s coming, but she has some suggestions, like her January self should sell all her investments and buy stock in Zoom, which would have been a pretty nice tip, wouldn’t it? 

She also proposes that this would be a great time to take up a new hobby or get a dog, and the January version of herself says she can’t, because she has too much travel coming up for work. She won’t have enough time at home to do any of that. Funny, right? I’ll link to it in the comments so you can watch it later (not right now, later. After worship and the Zoom coffee hour!)

I’m willing to bet you had some plans you hoped to do this spring and summer, right? Christin and I had been looking forward to traveling to Wisconsin to visit family last week, right after Easter. One of Christin’s grandmothers still hasn’t gotten to meet Micah, so we were looking forward to introducing her to her first great-grandchild.

Our high school seniors had planned on a graduation ceremony, and parties to end the school year. People across the state have been preparing for Ragbrai, and that’s cancelled for the year. For the church, synod assembly is postponed until August.

And of course, tens of thousands of families across the world had planned on much more time with loved ones, and the virus has taken that away. So many of our hopes and dreams and plans have been dashed, and we still have a long ways to go.

For the third week in a row today, our Gospel story takes place on that first Easter Sunday. Two weeks ago, on Easter, we heard about the two Mary’s going early in the morning to Jesus’ tomb, finding it empty, and hearing from an angel that Jesus has been raised. Then last week, we heard about that evening. 10 of the 11 disciples were hiding in a locked upper room, and Jesus came and stood among them saying, “Peace be with you.” 

But remember, Jesus had a lot more than 11 followers. Crowds of people had been following him and listening to his teachings. Back in Luke chapter 10, Jesus had sent out seventy disciples in pairs to go spread the good news. The 11 disciples in that upper room are the core group, but there are many others who believe in Jesus, and like the eleven, they’re experiencing grief and trauma after his death. 

One of those others is named Cleopas, and on this Sunday afternoon, Cleopas and a companion are on their way out of town. Luke doesn’t give us the companion’s name, but there’s a good chance it’s Mrs. Cleopas, his wife. And we don’t know exactly why they’re traveling, but I suspect they’re trying to get away. After Jesus their teacher is arrested and killed, some of his followers go into hiding, while others flee. 




On their lonely trek out of Jerusalem, down the seven-mile road to Emmaus, they’re processing what’s happened. On their way, Luke tells us, Jesus comes to walk and talk with them, but they don’t recognize him. Have you ever had the experience of running into someone and not recognizing them, because they’re out of context? It happened to me not that long ago at Target in Waterloo, where someone came up to me and started talking, and it took me several minutes to figure out who they were, because I’m used to seeing them at church in Greene on Sunday morning, not in a store in Waterloo on a Thursday night.

So it’s strange that Cleopas and Mrs. Cleopas don’t recognize Jesus, but I believe it. After you witness someone dying, you don’t expect them to run into them on the road two days later. And Jesus might have looked a little different too. Maybe he got a haircut in the tomb. At the very least, he’s not beaten and bloody, like last time they saw him. 

I wonder how often you and I miss seeing Jesus around us, because he doesn’t look like what we expect? How often do we miss seeing Jesus at work in the world around us, because he’s in places where we don’t even think of looking for him?

Anyway, Jesus comes up to these two disciples on the road, and he asks them what they’re discussing, and their response includes some of the saddest words in the Bible. Three words: “We had hoped.” 

You know what that’s like, don’t you? You know what it’s like to have your hopes dashed, your plans disrupted, to discover you’ve misunderstood, to be overwhelmed by forces beyond your control? Maybe you’re experiencing that right now.

We had hoped he would be the one to redeem Israel. You can imagine the grief and isolation these two travelers are feeling. They must feel so foolish for planning and dreaming, for thinking this Jesus guy was actually the Son of God, the savior who would redeem Israel. The irony, of course, is that not only is he the one to redeem Israel and the whole world, that’s exactly what he’s been doing! That’s why he died! 

As they walk, Jesus engages them in what has to be the ultimate Bible study, interpreting to them the things about himself in all the scriptures. What I appreciate is that before he gives them answers, he lets them dwell in their questions and their grief. Jesus doesn’t just come and fix everything with quick answers; he journeys alongside them. He enters into their isolation and accompanies them. 

I don’t know about you, but I find it tremendously encouraging that Jesus meets them while they are in despair, as they’re questioning and wondering. These two are really good proof that you don’t need to have all the answers for Jesus to come meet you.

Also, notice that Jesus meets them in their home. Jesus isn’t isolated or quarantined, but he comes to those who are—if not quarantined—at least alone and afraid, uncertain about the future.

When they finally realize who Jesus is, when they recognize him in the breaking of the bread, Jesus disappears, and Cleopas and his companion immediately turn around and race the seven miles back to Jerusalem to share the good news with the other disciples. And as Luke tells it, these two who had met him on the road are still there in the upper room when Jesus appears saying “Peace be with you.”

This is the last we hear of Cleopas and his wife, but I wonder what happened to them, because even after all this, the hopes and plans they’d had before are still disrupted. They won’t get to spend much time with Jesus before he ascends back to the Father. There’s even a decent chance they end up getting killed for their faith. Certainly, nothing will ever be the same again for them. 

But for now, they have a new found hope. As you continue this week to stay at home or to go out for essentials, may you too encounter Jesus in unexpected places, in the ordinary stuff of life.

May you recognize Jesus journeying with you, accompanying you in the disruption, giving you new hope. And may the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Amen 



Isolated: A Lonely Journey | April 26, 2020 Sermon
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