Down the Road

April 23, 2023
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Luke 24:13-35[1]

Our church is in a time of transition, the ending of a chapter. We are reflecting on what we have experienced over the past few years together. We are anticipating what will change, and cherishing the time we have together. Like travelers on the road, we have walked together for a time, and we will part ways, changed by the experience.

This passage from Luke would actually fit chronologically before the story from last week. In Luke’s telling, the women who go to the tomb in the early morning see only two men in dazzling clothes; they do not encounter the risen Jesus. This journey to Emmaus reflects the ambiguous time between the empty tomb and the appearance of Jesus to the disciples and Thomas behind locked doors.

As they travel, the two disciples converse about the dramatic events of the past few days. When the stranger joins them, the recount the mission of Jesus and the events of the passion, but without fully understanding their meaning.

Luke’s Gospel sets the entire story in the context of journey, the journey from Galilee to Jerusalem, and in the following story of Acts, the journey of the early community from Jerusalem “to the ends of the earth.”[2] The early Christians were known as the people of the Way, or people of the journey. As one scholar describes it, “For Luke the journey of Jesus and of the church itself expresses the unfolding history of salvation that finds its origin In Israel and through the Spirit extends salvation to the ‘ends of the earth.’”[3]

What Jesus interpreted to them from the scriptures, from Moses and all the prophets, is the story of God’s saving work revealed through the people and history of Israel. God’s story is one of life emerging from death, of the journey of renewal, reconciliation, and transformation. As Jesus reveals the connections between the story they know and the story they have just witnessed, they begin to understand the meaning of Jesus’ death and resurrection. Here is some of what they might have heard.

The story of the Exodus from Egypt is a story of bondage, liberation, a journey, and a destination. It begins with the Hebrews as slaves in Egypt. Daily life was hard labor with perhaps enough food to survive on, but not much more. By means of the plagues, God liberates the people from Pharaoh. They are led into the wilderness by Moses. There they journey for forty years toward the Promised Land.

This story suggests that the human condition is slavery or bondage. You and I are in bondage to many things, such as cultural messages about what we should be like, what it means to be successful, attractive, and to live the good life. We can also be enslaved to fears, addictions, or other kinds of oppression. We might be trapped by debt, or the fear of losing employer-supplied health insurance. The story of Moses and the people seeking freedom remains a particularly poignant one for the descendants of African slaves in America.

God’s salvation comes as the people are led from bondage to liberation, leaving Egypt and Pharaoh. It also involves a journey through the wilderness. It is in the wilderness where God is encountered and known. It can also be a place of fear and anxiety where we sometimes find ourselves longing for the security of Egypt, of the familiar things of the past. But the wilderness is also a place where we are nourished by God and where God journeys with us. The destination is life in the presence of God.

This congregation is faced with a journey through the wilderness. As the Hebrews were not always content with the leadership of Moses, you may find that new leaders make you long for the familiarity of the past. But on that wilderness journey you will be nourished by the manna of God, and led to a new experience of the presence of God promised through the ages.

Through the prophets we learn of the Exile. The exile began in 587 BCE, when, after Jerusalem and its temple were conquered and destroyed by the Babylonians, some of the survivors were marched into exile in Babylon some 800 miles away. There they lived as refugees, far from home and oppressed. Fifty years later, the Babylonian Empire was conquered by the Persians, who allowed the Jews to return to their homeland.

We live in a time when millions of exiles and refugees know this experience firsthand. It is an experience of separation from all that is familiar. People contend with powerlessness and often oppression and victimization. There is sadness, loneliness, and grief. It is a yearning for home and a place where we belong. It can also mean the loss of meaning or a sense of purpose. These feelings may be familiar to us as familiar ways of working, learning, gathering, and traveling are changing.

God’s salvation from exile leads the people on a journey of return. The religious life is a journey to the place where God is present, a homecoming, and God assists those who undertake the journey. As God spoke through the prophet Jeremiah, “I will bring you back to the place from which I sent you into exile.”[4] We may ask, like the exiles, “How could we sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land?”[5] Perhaps in the days ahead we will sing a new song, a song of joy as we see familiar places in a new light.

Another way in which we understand salvation comes from the days of the temple, the priesthood, and sacrifice. It is a story of sin, guilt, sacrifice, and forgiveness. When we people turn away from God, we are in a state of sin and brokenness. When we are lost from the ways of God we need to return to God, to repent, to be cleansed, washed, or covering over. When we have done wrong, we need forgiveness. We need to sacrifice to God to make up for what we have done wrong. Since the early Middle Ages, some Christians have understood Jesus as the dying savior whose death is a sacrifice for our sins, thereby making our forgiveness by God possible. “Jesus died for our sins.”

This image of Jesus is powerful, and can be a sign of God’s great love for us, as we know from John 3:16, “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.” The message is simple, direct, and radical: we are accepted, just as we are. Our own sense of sin, impurity, and guilt need not stand between us and God. New beginnings are possible.

Each of these stories is part of the grand story of God’s work of salvation. For some of us, the need is liberation; for others, the need is homecoming; and for still others, the need is acceptance. Each of these stories helps us to understand what it means to be Christian, living life as a journey whose central quality is a deepening and transforming relationship with God.

Where do we go from here? The story doesn’t end with supper that night in Emmaus. That was a moment of revelation, a vision of the living Christ in the breaking of the bread. It was also a moment of understanding that their journey was not ended, but just beginning.

The story of Jesus is the story of discipleship. The word disciple means “a follower after somebody.” Discipleship is a following after Jesus, a journeying with Jesus. It is a journey, not alone, but in the company of fellow disciples. The Christian life is about being in relationship with God, which transforms us into more and more compassionate beings, changing into the likeness of Christ.

Our journey also continues, and though we can’t see the future, we can think about what is coming down the road. Things won’t be the “normal” we had before. The disciples didn’t just go back to fishing. There will be changes in our lives. If nothing else, we will see and appreciate what makes us a unique people, what binds us together, and how our very beings are being transformed by the company of those who travel down the road with us.

I hope that down the road you will realize your interconnectedness in new ways, and be more grateful for all the people who come in and out of your lives. I hope that when you break bread together, the living Christ will be made known to you. And I pray that you will continue on in the Way, the journey which takes us all ever-closer to the One who saves us.  Amen.

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[1] The scripture quotations contained herein are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A.  Used by permission.  All rights reserved.

[2] Acts 1:8.

[3] Donald Senior, Exegetical Perspective on Luke 24:13-35 in Feasting on the Word: Preaching the Revised Common Lectionary, Year A, Vol. 2, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, General Editors (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010), p. 421.

[4] Jeremiah 29:14.

[5] Psalm 137:4.

The New Covenant: God’s Radical Grace

February 26, 2023
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Jeremiah 31:31-34; Luke 22:14-20[1]

Today I want to talk about “Covenant.” A covenant is an agreement between two parties, generally between people and God, stating their relationship and stipulating their future rights and responsibilities. It provides the arrangements within which ordinary life can flourish. It defines the common center of value that holds the community together and creates the conditions for free and responsible interactions.

Remember Noah and the Rainbow Covenant, where God promises to never again destroy the earth with a flood. Remember God’s covenant with Abraham, to make him the father of many nations, the ancestor of the “people of the book” as Jews, Christians, and Muslims are known.

Covenant is a powerful idea. As an arrangement created by God who makes the covenant, it is a gracious gift. God gives us the covenant as a means of providing us with peace, justice, happiness, freedom, and all of the good things in life that are priceless. The covenant stipulates a way of life based on the gift. In order to make the promises of the covenant a reality, we must respond with faith and obedience. We must live up to our obligations, take care of our responsibilities.

The covenant is a gift in the sense that it can be refused. We have to agree to the covenant. We have to choose to let God be our God. But, because it is based on our agreement, on consent rather than coercion or force, it creates a relationship between people and God where we are accountable to one another. We are in this together. For the promises of the covenant to be fulfilled, both God and people have to do their part.

God makes a covenant with us, and we receive the benefits of belonging to the people of God. God is especially concerned with justice and peace as the basis for human flourishing, and God’s promises make peace and justice a reality. We also take on some responsibilities as part of that covenant. God’s covenant with Moses and the Israelites involved a lengthy list of laws and rules about proper behavior. And that seemed to work… for a while.

But promises get broken, agreements are forgotten, and temptation draws us away from the commitments we’ve made. We all know what it is like to break a promise, or to have a promise that was made to us broken. I don’t think any of us is a stranger to that feeling of hurt, disappointment, betrayal. It breaks down our relationships. It ends friendships. It divides families. And it is so hard to build up a trust which has been lost.

All of the historical covenants appear to have been broken. It’s part of human nature, it seems. If we follow the story through the historical books of the Bible – Joshua, Judges, 1st and 2nd Kings, 1st and 2nd Samuel, etc. – we see God’s people repeatedly breaking the covenant. God, of course, gets angry with the people and so allows them to be conquered by different nations and even exiled from the “Promised Land.”

And yet… God never gives up. The prophets record the words that God speaks over and over again: “I will be their God, and they shall be my people.”[2] And the fact that after all we human beings have done to one another and to the world, God still has hope for us, is truly amazing. We hear that hope in the words of Jeremiah: “they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, says the Lord; for I will forgive their iniquity, and remember their sin no more.”[3]

The promise, I will be your God and you shall be my people, is fulfilled in the life and destiny of Jesus Christ. The new covenant that Jesus speaks of during the Last Supper is the covenant that God writes on our hearts. It is the covenant of love that goes with us all the way to the grave and beyond. It is the promise of forgiveness, the gift of God’s grace. It is the way of the servant, giving ourselves to others in the name of the one who gave himself for all of us.

Radical grace is a term coined by the 20^th century theologian, Karl Barth. He was trying to respond to the Reformation idea of grace, proposed by John Calvin and others, that there is election or predestination. The Calvinist view of election teaches that in eternity God chose some individuals from the mass of fallen humanity to be saved without regard to any merit or foreseen faith in them, but solely based on God’s choice. Those elected are predestined to go to heaven.

Barth recognized in the church’s language of predestination an attempt to express the sovereignty of God. For him, this is the sum of the gospel—that God elects humanity and that this election is utterly unconditioned by any human merit, preparation, or disposition. But Barth’s reinterpretation of the doctrine of election rejects any form of double-predestination whereby some are elected to salvation and others to damnation.

Christ, has elected humanity for salvation. But Christ is also the one chosen before time to restore the broken covenant between God and humanity. The election of any particular person is always an election “in Christ,” and the election “in Christ” is an election of all persons for salvation and eternity. In this way, Barth removes speculation regarding the eternal destiny of any particular person and transforms it into an affirmation of radical grace. Radical grace means everyone is saved. The covenant is no longer dependent on our choice, but given no matter what.

The reality of salvation can only be fully affirmed if the event is seen to come to humankind as a gift that is already actual and complete. The gift is effective whether or not it is acknowledged by the recipient. The alternative, describing salvation as in some sense dependent on a human response, would imply that salvation is a mere possibility not yet realized in human existence. The gospel would become yet another law by which humanity was condemned.

Jesus didn’t come to condemn people to eternal damnation. In John’s Gospel, we read: “Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”[4] Who did Jesus condemn? No one. Who did Jesus forgive? The disciples who deserted him, the Roman soldiers who killed him, the Roman and Jewish ruling elite who condemned him to death, yes. Was he forgiving us all forever, for all our sins? This is the gospel.

Don’t give up on each other. Keep forgiving one another. Keep on loving one another, even when it is hard. Keep on serving others, even if they don’t recognize or appreciate what you are doing. Keep building the kingdom, the reality of God’s peace and justice and love that has been promised in the new covenant of Jesus Christ. Let God’s radical grace rain down upon us all.  Amen.

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[1] The scripture quotations contained herein are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A.  Used by permission.  All rights reserved.

[2] Jeremiah 31:33.

[3] Jeremiah 31:34.

[4] John 3:17.

Seek and Save the Lost

October 30, 2022
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Luke 19:1-10[1]

Zacchaeus, the chief tax collector, was known for colluding with Rome and skimming from the top of the collections. He was rich but despised, an outcast among his people, called a sinner by the grumbling crowd. We don’t expect a happy ending for Zacchaeus.

Jesus has criticized the rich several times already in Luke’s Gospel. “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God… But woe to you who are rich, for you have received your consolation” (6:20, 24). Remember the parable, “The land of a rich man produced abundantly” (12:16)? And of course, there’s the one about the rich man and Lazarus (16:19-31). We expect a rebuke of Zacchaeus, and actual rich man standing before Jesus, caught red-handed if you will.

And yet, there is something different about Zacchaeus. He is the twist in the parable, the turning of the tables. We expect a rich and powerful man to push his way to the front of the crowd, or stand whispering in a doorway with the other rich men of Jericho as Jesus passes through. Instead, discarding all decorum, Zacchaeus runs ahead to climb a tree, just to get a good look at Jesus. And not only did he see, he was seen! Jesus called up to him, called him by name, and honored him by staying at his house.

A more pompous or self-righteous person might be apprehensive of what Jesus might say to him, a powerful rich man. Instead, “he hurried down and was happy to welcome him” (v. 6). The crowd was shocked by the social outcast being honored by Jesus. But Zacchaeus was joyful, overcome by love, and declares his lavish commitment to generosity. He will give away half his possessions to the poor, and repay his fraud with four times as much. Not with grudging acquiescence, but with a smile on his face and light in his heart.

“Salvation has come to this house,” announces Jesus (v. 9). Zacchaeus was who he was, but he is a child of Abraham, just like the rest of the crowd. He belongs to the family of God. He may have been lost, but now he has been found, and that is worth celebrating. After all, that is the mission, “to seek out and to save the lost” (v. 10). In seeking out Zacchaeus, Jesus shows the extravagant love of God who seeks out the lost, searching for those who have wandered away, because they still belong to the family of God.

We often focus on finding God, finding Jesus. We may think of ourselves as lost, seeking for the one light, for salvation. We stumble around in the dark, not noticing that our eyes are closed. Perhaps we’ve wandered away looking for quicker, easier, more seductive ways of life. What we have forgotten is that Jesus is looking for us. Jesus is seeking for us, walking miles and miles to find us, again and again. And it may only take opening our eyes or climbing a tree for us to be seen, to be found, to be called by name.

You may recall how, in the parable of two who went to the Temple to pray, the Pharisee bragged of his righteousness: “I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income” (18:12). He already thought of himself as righteous, justified, saved. Here we see a different response. Zacchaeus, who has not been so righteous before, has changed his ways. “I will give to the poor… I will pay back four times as much” (v. 8). In this moment, standing before the Lord, in the midst of the crowd grumbling about this sinner, Zacchaeus has been transformed. Without any sense of arrogance, and without being asked, he pledges his fortune in restitution for his crimes, in repentance for his sins. He is changed, and his mended heart will be seen in his new commitment to kindness, justice, and generosity.

We might think of repentance as the work required to earn God’s love and salvation. Here we see a better definition. Repentance is an act of gratitude for the grace extended by God. It can be an act of remorse, but it can also be an act motivated by joy. I messed up. I want to do better; I want to be better. And thanks be to God, I can be. The thing I find to be important is to remember that God doesn’t need us to pay back God for what we’ve done wrong. It is the people we’ve harmed who need our restitution. It is the poor we’ve ignored and those we have cheated who need our acts of repentance. It is our community that must see the change in us. God already loves us, has sought us out save us. Now we must commit ourselves to acts of justice and love among God’s people in thanksgiving and in joy.

Come, Lord Jesus, come and fill our hearts with your life. Let us be your voice of hope, of peace, and of love.  Amen.

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[1] The scripture quotations contained herein are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A.  Used by permission.  All rights reserved.

Stand Firm

August 22, 2021
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Joshua 24:1-2a, 14-18; Ephesians6:10-20[1]

Someone posted this message yesterday on the Crystal Lake community Facebook group:

I would like to share this story that my son told me when he came home from the Crystal Lake Jewels last nigh (sic):

My son was helping out a neighbor who is going thru a hard time, she received her SNAP money yesterday and was going to walk to Jewel, it is over an hour walk, so my son offered to drive her, well at the checkout she overspent and did not have enough money to pay for all the items so my son helped her put a few things aside(he had no money on him)and they left the store, a few seconds later a man walked out and called to them and said he saw what happened and purchased those items for her. My son said he literally cried because of this man's kindness and also knowing what this poor women had been thru.

That is a beautiful story of kindness and how even a small act can make a big impact, something any of us could do. It is good that we can, at times, look to our neighbors for help. The kindness of strangers can be a blessing. And yet, I wonder, wouldn’t it be great if we would create a society in which no one goes hungry, no one comes up short at the grocery store. Couldn’t we make a world in which no one has to choose between paying for medicine, the electric bill, or gas for the car?

We have been at war for twenty years. Al-Qaeda was broken up in Afghanistan, but that only took a couple of years. We did manage to find Bin Laden, but that was ten years ago. As the Afghan Army melts away, and the Taliban retake control, we’re left wondering, was it worth it? Are we safe from terrorism? Will the Afghan people be better off this time, especially the women and children?

I have great respect for those who have served, who have fought to protect us and have tried to make the world a safer place in which to live. But I wonder if a trillion dollars spent on the machinery of death in the graveyard of empires could have been spent to end hunger here at home. As our fear of foreign terrorists wanes, and our fear of home-grown violent extremism grows, could we take our energy that has been for so long focused on war and turn it toward building well-being?

We love to fight. Human history seems to be mostly a record of battles won or lost; the fate of nations decided on the battlefield. The imagery of war and warriors is infused into our cultures. Sports arenas resemble the Roman colosseum and athletes resemble gladiators. Politicians fight for their side and view the other party as enemies bent on destroying the republic. Even our effort to stop the spread of the coronavirus is a battle pitting healthcare workers like frontline soldiers against the scourge of COVID.

The Bible, too, is filled with violent imagery. Even when the stories are not about actual battles, violence and death permeate the text. A story about a vineyard turns on the violence of the workers who murder the son of the landowner in hopes of inheriting the vineyard for themselves. Yet the cry for peace and justice persists throughout the text as well. The ancient concept of shalom, the world as God intends, with justice, righteousness, peace, and harmony, green pastures, and a land flowing with milk and honey; that imagery is there as well.

The passage we read from Ephesians deliberately employs the language of the warrior with a fervent exhortation to be clothed and equipped with the tools and armor used to wage war. This text evokes an epic battle against spiritual forces bent on our destruction. Its purpose is to prepare us to become active participants in the struggle against the rulers, authorities, and cosmic powers of darkness. But, more importantly, it is not a sword and shield made of steel that we are to wield in this battle. This battle is not with flesh and blood, but with forces bigger than any human adversary.

We are living through and existential crisis, or really more than one. An existential crisis is a moment when what is at stake is existence itself. Will our republic survive the division between our political parties? Will our society make it through multiple waves of coronavirus variants? Will the planet warm and the climate change to the point that continued human survival is threatened?

Though the crisis faced by the early Christians is not the same that we face, we have some guidance from Paul and others that can help us navigate our own struggles. And we must remember that this guidance was not for personal spiritual growth. Some have interpreted Ephesians as an individual expression of faith. Instead, as the Rev. Dr. Cheryl Lindsay writes, “this letter was not originally written for personal devotion but for community formation. This was a letter to a people not a person.”[2] The Christian life is life in community and we are meant to work together, by the power of the Holy Spirit at work within all of us, to bring about shalom, the kin-dom of God.

We must fasten the belt of truth around our waist. Many of our political disagreements come from a small group of people spreading misinformation to a large audience. Entertainment and opinion packaged to look like news poisons our discourse and leads us to think that our political adversaries are not only wrong but evil. Yet the truth is out there to be found. It might take some work to find it, however. Check your sources. Look for more than one account of an event. Follow a story through to its conclusion, particularly when something sensational seems to have evaporated.

“Put on the breastplate of righteousness.” Do what is right, not only what is expedient. Work for right relationships between people. Show kindness, in the grocery store and in the business negotiation. Even when others “get away with it,” don’t. Do what is right, even when it costs you. Even if no one is looking, God is watching, and “all that you have is your soul.”[3] Worry as much about protecting others as you do about protecting yourself. Put a mask on, even if you’re vaccinated, even if you don’t feel sick, because you care about others and don’t want them to catch a deadly disease.

Wear the shoes of peace. Wear shoes that will allow you to stand up for what is right without stomping on what is wrong. Walk away when you feel the anger rising within. Walk quietly in tender moments. Walk in the shoes of those who have to walk an hour to get to the store, and those who are going through a hard time. Wear the shoes that will give you compassion for those in need, and bring peace and the good news of forgiveness and love wherever you go.

Take the shield of faith, the faith that we are not alone, that Emmanuel is God-with-us. Trust in God to enter the struggle with you, and to keep the mission going even when you cannot. Do what you can to make the world better, and trust that we are with you, working alongside you. Have faith that we can survive the crises we face if we work together to overcome the cosmic forces of doom.

The helmet of salvation gives us the confidence that even if we don’t get there, even if the vision of a better, safer, healthier world is not achieved when we come to our end, all is not lost. We will never be given over to the powers of evil, but will always be held close to the one who so loves the world.

Finally, take the sword, the word of God, which is love, grace, and hope. Use the sword of God’s shalom to cut down the barricades of fear, bitterness, and resignation. Lay that sword across the chasm of division so that we may join as one community, one family with others and together triumph over the “the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil.” Stand firm in prayer, in common cause, and in faith.  Amen.

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[1] The scripture quotations contained herein are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A.  Used by permission.  All rights reserved.

[2] The Rev. Dr. Cheryl A. Lindsay, “Sermon Seeds: Prayer and Protection” online at: https://www.ucc.org/sermon-seeds/sermon-seeds-prayer-and-protection/.

[3] Tracy Chapman, 1988.

One in a Hundred

September 6, 2020

St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Psalm 28:6-9; Matthew 18:12-14[1]

This parable from Matthew is one of several lost-and-found stories. We can easily identify with searching for something that is lost – our keys, our phone, our mask, our kids. In this parable, and others about searching for what is lost, we are meant to be the lost ones, the ones who are the object of another’s search. We are lost, not necessarily in the sense of not knowing where we are, but in the sense of being searched for, lost to someone else. We are the ones for whom someone is searching.

When we are lost, like a child in the store, we can sometimes forget that someone is looking for us. We start frantically looking everywhere, and usually getting further and further away from where we started. If you’re lost in the wilderness, we’re taught that the first thing you should do is stop, calm down, and make a plan. If you know someone will be looking for you, you’ll be better able to hear them calling if you remain calm and still.

When we are lost in more metaphorical ways, it can be harder to remember that we are being looked for, that someone wants to bring us back into the fold. Like the lost sheep, the one in a hundred who has gone astray, we are searched for, and when we are found, rejoiced over. We are found, not because we go seeking, but because we are sought. The good news is that we are sought for by Christ, and we have always already been found.

Now, our role is not to actively go astray, playing hide-and-seek with God, saying “catch me if you can!” Nor is our role to be passive, waiting and waiting to be found, doing nothing to improve our situation. Our role is to be attentive, recognize that we are lost, and be open to being found. It is listening for the voice of the one calling out to us and turning toward the one who seeks us.

As the lost, the ones who have gone astray, we are the sinners, the ones in need of being found, of being saved. We aren’t the ones doing the saving; but, in order to be saved, we must listen for the voice that is calling and turn toward the finder. We must repent, recognizing that we are lost and need finding, we are sinners in need of saving. In this way, the work of salvation involves recognizing our sin, and having the willingness to be saved from it.

We sometimes find ourselves seeking for what we have lost. Perhaps it is a sense of purpose, belonging, or our faith that there really is a shepherd seeking us out. It takes a lot more energy to search than it does to get lost, doesn’t it? At least in searching we feel like we are in control of things, we’re looking for what we’ve lost, we’re trying to DO something. Maybe if I just go to church more, or pray more, or listen to the Christian music station I’ll restore my faith, find my purpose, or feel like I belong again.

In that kind of search, looking for our lost faith or to fill the emptiness that we feel, we can spend a lot of time and energy on temporary fill-ups and grabbing hold of anything we find. They fade, because they were not what we were looking for, and we continue searching. Perhaps what we need is to allow ourselves to stop searching, to quiet our troubled minds, and allow ourselves to be found. The Lord has heard the sound of our pleadings. The shepherd seeks us out. Will we accept that we are lost and allow ourselves to be found?

Most of the time, we are the ninety-nine sheep, never going astray. We may feel like the shepherd has abandoned us to go looking for the one who deserved to get lost, always wandering off like that. We might resent the attention that the shepherd gives to the lost sheep, even though we are safe with the herd, surrounded by green pastures and still waters. This is when it helps to recognize that we have always been found, and to know that if we were to get lost, the shepherd would look for us too. Then our role becomes the celebrators of the one who is found.

The parables of the lost and found end with the coming together of friends and neighbors to celebrate, to rejoice that the one who went astray has been found. Rejoicing is the goal, the happy moment of finding and being found. Salvation is more than just being rescued, restored to community, being reunited with the shepherd and the flock. Salvation is the celebration, the rejoicing over the return of the lost ones. It is also rejoicing with the shepherd who is our strength and shield, the one our hearts trust; who makes our hearts exult, and with our songs we will give thanks to the Lord.

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[1] The scripture quotations contained herein are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A.  Used by permission.  All rights reserved.

Down the Road

April 26, 2020

St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Luke 24:13-35

How did we get here? I have been reading a lot about what has brought us to this crisis, the breakdown of systems that has left us vulnerable to this disease. I have also been reading about the dedication and sacrifice of those who are doing their best to save lives and provide for the needs of others. I am grateful for those who are helping me understand how all that is happening connects to the larger story of who we are. And this story of an encounter on the road to Emmaus draws similar connections between the intense events of that week in Jerusalem so long ago, and the long history of God’s work of salvation.

This passage from Luke would actually fit chronologically before the story from last week. In Luke’s telling, the women who go to the tomb in the early morning see only two men in dazzling clothes; they do not encounter the risen Jesus. This journey to Emmaus reflects the ambiguous time between the empty tomb and the appearance of Jesus to the disciples and Thomas behind locked doors.

As they travel, the two disciples converse about the dramatic events of the past few days. When the stranger joins them, the recount the mission of Jesus and the events of the passion, but without fully understanding their meaning.

Luke’s Gospel sets the entire story in the context of journey, the journey from Galilee to Jerusalem, and in the following story of Acts, the journey of the early community from Jerusalem “to the ends of the earth.”[1] The early Christians were known as the people of the Way, or people of the journey. As one scholar describes it, “For Luke the journey of Jesus and of the church itself expresses the unfolding history of salvation that finds its origin In Israel and through the Spirit extends salvation to the ‘ends of the earth.’”[2]

What Jesus interpreted to them from the scriptures, from Moses and all the prophets, is the story of God’s saving work revealed through the people and history of Israel. God’s story is one of life emerging from death, of the journey of renewal, reconciliation, and transformation. As Jesus reveals the connections between the story they know and the story they have just witnessed, they begin to understand the meaning of Jesus’ death and resurrection. This is some of what they might have heard.

The story of the Exodus from Egypt is a story of bondage, liberation, a journey, and a destination. It begins with the Hebrews as slaves in Egypt. Daily life was hard labor with perhaps enough food to survive on, but not much more. By means of the plagues, God liberates the people from Pharaoh. They are led into the wilderness by Moses. There they journey for forty years toward the Promised Land.

This story suggests that the human condition is slavery or bondage. You and I are in bondage to many things, such as cultural messages about what we should be like, what it means to be successful, attractive, and to live the good life. We can also be enslaved to fears, addictions, or other kinds of oppression. We might be trapped by debt, or the fear of losing employer-supplied health insurance. The story of Moses and the people seeking freedom remains a particularly poignant one for the descendants of African slaves in America.

God’s salvation comes as the people are led from bondage to liberation, leaving Egypt and Pharaoh. It also involves a journey through the wilderness. It is in the wilderness where God is encountered and known. It can also be a place of fear and anxiety where we sometimes find ourselves longing for the security of Egypt, of the familiar things of the past. But the wilderness is also a place where we are nourished by God and where God journeys with us. The destination is life in the presence of God.

We might think our current situation is bondage, trapped in our homes by fear of the virus and the need to slow the spread so that our hospitals are not overwhelmed. But maybe we are really in the wilderness, a journey of the mind and the spirit, experiencing anxiety and a longing for what we had before. But in the wilderness, we might find ourselves sustained by the manna of God, the efforts of our family and friends to reach out over the phone and the internet to support one another. And the end of this journey may reveal a new way of living more carefully with one another, more grateful for the opportunity to gather, and more blessed by the touch of a hand or a hug.

Through the prophets we learn of the exile. The exile began in 587 BCE, when, after Jerusalem and its temple were conquered and destroyed by the Babylonians, some of the survivors were marched into exile in Babylon some 800 miles away. There they lived as refugees, far from home and oppressed. Fifty years later, the Babylonian Empire was conquered by the Persians, who allowed the Jews to return to their homeland.

We live in a time when millions of exiles and refugees know this experience firsthand. It is an experience of separation from all that is familiar. People contend with powerlessness and often oppression and victimization. There is sadness, loneliness, and grief. It is a yearning for home and a place where we belong. It can also mean the loss of meaning or a sense of purpose. These feelings may be familiar to us in this time, when familiar ways of working, learning, gathering, and traveling have changed.

God’s salvation from exile leads the people on a journey of return. The religious life is a journey to the place where God is present, a homecoming, and God assists those who undertake the journey. We may not be able to return from our exile yet. But there will be a return, a time to gather once again in familiar places with friends and family. As God spoke through the prophet Jeremiah, “I will bring you back to the place from which I sent you into exile.”[3] As the days of our quarantine stretch into weeks and months, we may ask, like the exiles, “How could we sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land?”[4] Perhaps in the days ahead we will sing a new song, a song of joy as we gather together again.

Another way in which we understand salvation comes from the days of the temple, the priesthood, and sacrifice. It is a story of sin, guilt, sacrifice, and forgiveness. When we people turn away from God, we are in a state of sin and brokenness. When we are lost from the ways of God we need to return to God, to repent, to be cleansed, washed, or covering over. When we have done wrong, we need forgiveness. We need to sacrifice to God to make up for what we have done wrong. Since the early Middle Ages, some Christians have understood Jesus as the dying savior whose death is a sacrifice for our sins, thereby making our forgiveness by God possible. “Jesus died for our sins.”

This image of Jesus is powerful, and can be a sign of God’s great love for us, as we know from John 3:16, “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.” The message is simple, direct, and radical: we are accepted, just as we are. Our own sense of sin, impurity, and guilt need not stand between us and God. New beginnings are possible.

Each of these stories is part of the grand story of God’s work of salvation. For some of us, the need is liberation; for others, the need is homecoming; and for still others, the need is acceptance. Each of these stories helps us to understand what it means to be Christian, living life as a journey whose central quality is a deepening and transforming relationship with God.

Where do we go from here? The story doesn’t end with supper that night in Emmaus. That was a moment of revelation, a vision of the living Christ in the breaking of the bread. It was also a moment of understanding that their journey was not ended, but just beginning.

The story of Jesus is the story of discipleship. The word disciple means “a follower after somebody.” Discipleship is a following after Jesus, a journeying with Jesus. It is a journey, not alone, but in a company of fellow disciples. The Christian life is about being in relationship with God, which transforms us into more and more compassionate beings, changing into the likeness of Christ.

Our journey also continues, and though we can’t yet leave our homes, we can think about what is coming down the road. Things won’t be the “normal” we had before. The disciples didn’t just go back to fishing. We will make changes in our lives. If nothing else, we will begin to see and appreciate more of the people who make the world work, the grocery clerks, truck drivers, farmers and field hands, janitors, meat packers, mail carriers, and others who are more essential than we realized. We’ll have a greater appreciation for doctors and nurses, lab techs and EMTs.

I hope that down the road we will realize our interconnectedness in new ways, and be more grateful for all the people in our lives. I hope that when we break bread together, the living Christ will be made known to us. And I pray that we will continue on in the Way, the journey which takes us ever-closer to the One who saves us.  Amen.

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[1] Acts 1:8. The scripture quotations contained herein are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A.  Used by permission.  All rights reserved.

[2] Donald Senior, Exegetical Perspective on Luke 24:13-35 in Feasting on the Word: Preaching the Revised Common Lectionary, Year A, Vol. 2, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, General Editors (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010), p. 421.

[3] Jeremiah 29:14.

[4] Psalm 137:4.