ON THE ROAD AGAIN
A Sermon Preached by
Rev. Dr. Randle R. (Rick) Mixon
First Baptist Church, Palo Alto, CA
Sunday, April 6 2008
Text: Luke 24:13-35
On the road again,
Just can't wait to get on the road again.
The life I love is makin' music with my friends
And I can't wait to get on the road again…
Goin' places that I've never been,
Seein' things that I may never see again,
And I can't wait to get on the road again.
So sings wailing Willie as he celebrates the freedom of the road in this country classic. Now let me assure you that, given my Easter confession of liking country music, I do not intend to include a country song as sermon text every Sunday from here on out, but this one seems too good to pass up.
The characters in today’s drama were not much in the mood for celebrating by the time they hit the long road headed home. Seven miles of dusty track from Jerusalem to Emmaus. They plodded along with heavy step and heavier hearts, hashing and rehashing the events of the week. What a difference a week makes!
Oh, the week had begun with such promise. Their feet had fairly flown down the path from Emmaus to Jerusalem in eager anticipation of the Passover festival with all its drama and color, with people gathered from all over the world to remember and celebrate the great deliverance from slavery in Egypt so long ago. The city would be teeming with exotic people and exotic goods. It would be an exciting time and the adrenaline was flowing.
In addition to their anticipation of all the usual color and pageantry of this holiest of weeks, Cleopas and Mary had a special reason to be flying along. They were going to see Jesus and all those followers of his who had become their friends over the past year or so. Odd as it seemed, they were never happier than when they were spending time with their Galilean teacher and his rag tag band. Unfortunately, they had had to return home to Emmaus to settle some affairs but now they were free to rejoin the band of disciples.
Everyday life left behind them, they could hardly wait to return to their new community. It didn’t matter that this was a mobile community that spent most of its time on the road. They had discovered that wherever Jesus was, good things happened. Music was made; new places were discovered; amazing new sights were seen. People were fed and healed and comforted. People found faith and hope and love. Why just before they left for Emmaus, Jesus had raised their new friend Lazarus from the dead. Oh yes, they knew exactly where they wanted to be - on the road again with Jesus and his friends.
Well, the week had been full of excitement and drama alright - much more than they expected. Jesus had actually begun the week by riding into the great city, all the way from Bethany, on a donkey, and what a parade that had been! People had lined the way shouting, “Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of God.” Then, the next day, Jesus had turned suddenly in anger and driven the moneychangers and sacrifice sellers out of the temple courtyard. He seemed furious at what he saw as their desecration of God’s sacred earthly dwelling. First the parade and then this act of defiance had not won him any favor with the authorities. The city was alive with rumors about plots and counterplots to silence Jesus as a rabble-rouser and an enemy of the people.
Then there had been that strange and lovely time in the upper room when they had shared the Passover feast together. There had been an amazing warmth and peace in the room as Jesus had blessed and broken the bread and shared the cup with them. He had actually gotten down and washed their feet. Can you imagine the teacher serving his followers like that? After dinner, they had wandered over to the Garden of Gethsemane as Jesus had gone there to pray. It was in the fragrant beauty of that garden at midnight that the High Priest’s men, led by Judas, one of his most trusted disciples, came to arrest him. There had been a lot of turmoil as Peter and some of them struggled to protect him but in the end the guards tied him up and led him off.
There followed trials before Caiphas and Pontius Pilate. Pilate had even offered the mob the choice between freeing Jesus or Barrabas and the some of the same crowd that had cheered him on Sunday now called for his crucifixion. What had he done to lose their favor? Had he come up one miracle short? Had they decided he couldn’t really deliver on what they thought he had promised them? Was he not the Messiah they had hoped would come to lead a mighty army in driving the Romans out, delivering the people from oppression and poverty?
Finally, on Friday, the worst day of all, they had made him carry a huge wooden cross through the narrow streets of the city, all the way to Golgotha, the dreaded place of the skull, where the lowest criminals were commonly executed, hung out to die in slow torture in the heat of the day. It had been agonizing to watch him die. They themselves were too afraid to do any more than watch from a safe distance; his death seemed so long and painful. At about the time he died, there was a tremendous storm, the sky covered with thick dark clouds and thunder and lightning. Some said that, in the temple, the great curtain that covered the inner sanctuary was torn in two. Finally, Joseph and Nicodemus had taken the body and laid it in a tomb. The tomb was sealed by a huge boulder and guarded by Roman soldiers.
They had all spent Saturday in dazed confusion. None of them knew what to do or where to turn. Several left town immediately, afraid of Roman reprisals on those who had been his disciples. Then, early, that Sunday morning, some of the women in the group had gone to the tomb and found it empty. Others had gone to see for themselves and it seemed it was true. The body had disappeared. There were reports of angels and questions about who could have rolled away that enormous stone sealing the tomb and who could have taken the body. These tales just added to their confusion and anxiety. So Cleopas and Mary decided the wisest thing for them was to return home, too. They just did not know where else to go.
On the road again. This time moving slowly with heavy, leaden steps as they left Jerusalem and headed home. Their eyes were swollen from crying, their minds were dazed by all that had happened, their hearts were broken. As they trudged along they talked about it all, trying to hold on to some part of their crumbling dream.
Suddenly, without either of them being completely aware, a stranger joined their journey. As he walked with them on the dusty road to Emmaus, their defenses down in grief, they included him in their conversation. Actually the stranger initiated his involvement by asking them directly what it was they were discussing as they walked along and why they looked so sad. They were so surprised by his question that the words tumbled out of their mouths, “Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who doesn’t know the things that have happened there this past week?” Cleopas, in amazement and disbelief, tried to explain it all to him, focusing on their hope that Jesus was the one who would redeem Israel, and how this hope had been threatened and finally dashed by the events of the week, culminating with Jesus’ arrest, trial, crucifixion and, finally, the strange disappearance of his body.
This stranger was full of surprises. For some reason, he began to chide them, calling them foolish, slow to believe. At first, they were taken aback, but the stranger seemed to speak with a kind of authority and a spreading warmth. He told them about the necessity of the Messiah’s suffering, and then explained to them all about Moses and the prophets. Their steps lightened some as they moved along, wrapped in the stranger’s discourse on the scriptures. Before they knew it, they had arrived in Emmaus.
The stranger acted like he would just go on, but it was late and they knew that they needed to offer him the hospitality of their home. They insisted that he stay with them and join them for whatever they could scrape together for an evening meal.
When they were finally reclining at the table, they asked the stranger, who seemed so wise and so knowledgeable about the scriptures, if he would say grace before the meal. So he took the bread, broke it, blessed it and gave it to them. In this act they recognized something deeply familiar and they realized who he was just as he vanished from their sight. It was Jesus who had been walking with them and talking with them, and hadn’t their hearts burned with excitement and wonder as they had walked along listening to this familiar stranger? They couldn’t sit still. Before they knew it, they were on the road again, this time practically running the seven miles back to Jerusalem, in the middle of the night, to share with the others their own joyful experience with the risen Christ.
For these disciples, their encounter is characterized by three key transformations. First, their dazed, confused minds, traumatized, frightened and lost with what they see as a tragic turn of events, are opened again as Jesus instructs them. Then their red and swollen eyes, half-closed with grief and loss of hope, are opened again as Jesus breaks bread with them; and, finally, their heavy, broken hearts are opened again as Jesus journeys with them. So it can be for us.
The significance of this story depends on the willingness of the various participants to be on the road. If the characters hadn’t all been up and moving, none of this would have unfolded. For these two disciples, the journey is not unlike yours and mine, moving out into an unfamiliar, exciting world at the invitation to follow Jesus, then heading home when we feel discouraged and lose hope, only to move out again when Jesus finds us and engages us along the way. On the road again
In Luke’s gospel, Jesus is always “going further.” He is on HIS way - on the road to other towns, off to the wilderness to discern his calling, down to the Jordan to be baptized, up to the hills to pray. Then, in that final fateful week, on his resolute journey to Jerusalem, to the temple, to an upper room, to a quiet garden, to trial, to the cross, to hell and back, to his amazed followers, and, finally, to God - the beginning and the end. He seems always on the road, making music with his friends, taking them places they’d never been, showing them sights they might never see again. Here he is on the road, answering God’s call, doing God’s will, caring for God’s people, until he, in fact, becomes the Way. As disciples, we are not just called to be on the road with Jesus, he becomes the “Road” on which we journey, from God, our Maker, through the world, with all its joy and tears, pleasure and pain, hope and grief; the “Road” on which we, too, answer God’s call, seek to do God’s will, care for God’s people and God’s creation, until we finally return to God in the holiest of communions.
When our eyes and hearts, our minds and lives are open, we can hit the road, secure in the promise that wherever we find ourselves, Christ will be with us. When we take the risk to move out onto the road and open ourselves to the Spirit’s leading, we will find ourselves overflowing with God’s good gift of life - new life, abundant life, and our feet will fly down the road to share the good news of that good gift with all that we meet along the way. On the road again – it’s where we are called to be. Amen.