Are you here? Are you present right now? This is the question I always ask when I lead a spirituality group in the hospital where I work as a chaplain. I ask this question in the beginning of the group, not because they’re not physically there. They are there, but almost always their minds are somewhere else. So, I ask you the same question. Are you here? Are you present right now here at Grace? Is your heart wandering or still in the kitchen or your room whether you turned off all the lights before you came here? Are you still in your car listening to your favorite music or NPR weekend edition?
St. Augustine in his Confessions writes, “You were with me, and I was not with you.” Look who is around you. They are with you, and are you with them? Once you realize who you are with right now and recognize them, they are in a way strangers to you. How did I get to know this person? Or how did I end with this person? It’s a kind of mystery and strangeness in our lives how we strangers are connected to one another. Just like us, two of Jesus’ disciples encounter a stranger on their way to Emmaus. This stranger seems or pretends to have no knowledge of what happened in Jerusalem. It’s not hard to imagine their sadness of the death of their teacher easily turning into a kind of frustration or anger to this stranger who is so out of the loop. Cleopas summarizes what happened lately in Jerusalem. It was about Jesus of Nazareth. In his summarized version of Jesus’ life and death, Jesus was a “prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people.” He was handed over by the religious authorities and ended up being crucified. Cleopas wanted him to be the one who could liberate Israel from the Roman Empire and bring independence and freedom to Israel. What a huge failure! And he now hears all these stories about his dead body gone missing and some women saying they had a vision of angels at the empty tomb. And this is not the end of the story. The most unbelievable part is that he is alive! And the most disappointing part is that those who went to the tomb did not see Jesus. The whole narrative of today’s gospel reading is very strange. Jesus comes to these two disciples of his own as a stranger. They could not recognize their teacher. St. Luke describes their inability to recognize Jesus quite poetically, “...their eyes were kept from recognizing him.” They eyes were shut or somehow became temporarily blind. Jesus was with them, and they were not with him on this way to Emmaus. This story reminds us of the gospel reading last Sunday. When the disciples were meeting, Jesus stood among them. They didn’t seem to recognize Jesus right away. Their eyes were kept from recognizing him. They were able to see that it was their teacher only after he showed them his hands and side. They were able to recognize it was Jesus who was risen from the dead only after the wounds of Jesus were revealed to them. This woundedness, brokenness of Jesus breaks open their eyes to see the crucified and risen Christ. Something similar happens in today’s gospel lesson. Notice it does not happen while they were listening to Jesus’ interpretation about himself in all the scriptures. It happens at the table. Jesus took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened, and recognized him. St. Luke says Jesus was known to them “in the breaking of the bread.” It’s not just his four actions at the table, “taking the bread, blessing it, breaking it, and giving it” simply remind them of their teacher. In the breaking of the bread, Jesus was known to them. In other words, “in the breaking of his Body,” Jesus is known to them and to us. That brokenness, that woundedness of Jesus the Divine Stranger breaks open their eyes to see the crucified and risen Christ. Without looking at this brokenness and woundedness of Jesus, we cannot recognize the risen Lord. His brokenness breaks open our eyes to see him. The stranger becomes the risen Lord Jesus Christ. The stranger becomes the Divine Lover who loves not only us, but entire humanity. The mystery of the resurrection is that it never shies away from suffering. It goes right into the core of the brokenness and woundedness of the world. If there’s one thing that we can learn from these two disciples, it’s their hospitality to the stranger. They strongly urged Jesus, “Stay with us.” We know what enkindled this hospitality in their hearts. Their hearts were burning with them while he was opening the scriptures to them. That burning spirit within their hearts created the spirit of hospitality. They were able to say, “My dear stranger, stay with us.” And this spirit of hospitality eventually leads them to see the risen Lord. All of us here are called to meet the risen Christ. Have you met him yet? Have you been able to recognize the risen Christ? Sacramentally, at the Eucharist Jesus is present with us and is known to us in the breaking of the bread. As we eat his Body and drink his Blood, we become his Body and Blood. Today, I invite all of us to speak to Jesus the Divine Stranger to stay with us. “My dear stranger, stay with us!” We stay with the stranger at the Eucharist and see his broken body for the life of the world. And look around next to you strangers kneeling with you and becoming part of the same Body of Christ. And from there on, we go out to the world. We stay with strangers. We see their brokenness and woundedness. We recognize the risen Christ in them. Strangers show us the risen Christ. Our eyes are no longer kept from recognizing the risen Christ in strangers, but break open by their brokenness and woundedness, by their suffering. In turn, we hope and pray that they may see the risen Christ in us as we take the bread, bless it, break it, and give it to them. I would like to go back to St. Augustine’s confession: “You were with me, and I was not with you.” He doesn’t stop there. He recognizes Jesus the Divine Stranger in his woundedness and confesses, “You called and cried out loud and shattered my deafness. You were radiant and resplendent, you put to flight my blindness. You were fragrant, and I drew in my breath and now pant after you. I tasted you, and I feel but hunger and thirst for you. You touched me, and I am set on fire to attain the peace which is yours.” (Confessions, 10.27.38) May the brokenness of Jesus break our eyes open to recognize him and set our hearts on fire so that we stay with him and all other strangers in the world! May we see the risen Christ in the brokenness of those who are suffering in the world as we stay with them strangers. May they see the risen Christ in us Christians the Church in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. |
Paul"...life up your love to that cloud [of unknowing]...let God draw your love up to that cloud...through the help of his grace, to forget every other thing." Archives
January 2025
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