Homily for the Third Sunday of Easter
Apr 23, 2023
Road to Emmaus-Sandra Dugruid
There have been crucifixions, too,
in our town–innocents
gunned down in their doorways
or in school halls; or radiations
black outlines, three crosses
marked a sisters chest: no wonder
we walk in quiet rage, musing
And who, on this road, will join us,
seeming unaware
of the worst news in the neighborhood,
but spelling out the history of the prophets
and a future:
Ought not Christ to have suffered these things
and to enter into his glory?
Could our hearts still burn within us?
Will we ask the stranger to stay?
Break bread? And how
will our well-hammered and nailed
kitchens and bedrooms appear to us
when we understand who he is
just as he steals away?
Of the 8 stories contained in the 4 gospels in which the resurrected Jesus appears, the
story of his appearance to the disciples traveling to Emmaus seems unquestionably to
be the most popular. And it is little wonder, the story is both rich in detail and very
relatable.
Two disciples are hurrying away from Jerusalem as soon as they possibly can after the
arrest, trial and execution of Jesus. We can envision the anguish they experience as
they walk along the road talking: the terror they feel at what might now happen to the
followers of the man condemned as the enemy of both Rome and the religious
authorities. The despondency they experience having witnessed the brutal crushing of
the one in whom they had placed so much of their hope for the future.
And then, with no particular fanfare a stranger joins them as they walk. At this point, we
are treated to the great story-telling skill of the author of Luke’s gospel. Because, unlike
Cleopas and his companion (some scholars think that it might have been his wife) we
know who this stranger is. Think of how that lifts everything that follows in this story.
Beginning with the line “Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know…”
there is just the slightest smile in our hearts as we listen to the two disciples describe to
Jesus the gruesome events of the last couple of days, their deep despair and
disappointment and their even deeper confusion regarding the reports of the women
and those who followed them to the tomb. The frail humanity displayed by the couple on
the road Emmaus makes it impossible for me NOT to identify with them, even as Jesus
scolds them, gently I hope, for their slowness in coming to understand and to believe
“all that the prophets have declared.”
A friend who has since passed used to refer to this particular gospel story as “The good
news of disillusionment.”
Who of us in this room has not walked on the road to Emmaus-weighed down by the
terrors we have seen-reports of war and violence both near and far away. Distraught at
the gross stupidity of our politics. Discouraged, maybe even despondent as we consider
the future of our planet on this 53rd anniversary of the first Earth Day.
And who of us in this room, as we have walked along, has not at some point become
aware that a stranger is now walking with us listening with empathy, but also chiding,
gently or not, “how foolish…how slow of heart.”
Last Saturday evening the stranger for me was a couple of hundred Special Olympians
dancing exuberantly as they celebrated their many accomplishments at the state swim
and basketball tournaments.
Yesterday morning an even stranger stranger walked along, my twin brother whom I
caught on the phone as he and his wife were racing around preparing and delivering
breakfast to a couple of newly arrived refugee families from Columbia sheltering in the
lobby of their local police district until more suitable long-term housing could be found.
“Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things..”
The world that so often breaks our hearts and crushes our hopes is the same world in
which the stranger walks with us. Our great task is to continue to recognize
and to continue to be a glimpse of Christ resurrected in all the many forms of breaking bread.