You are invited to reflect on this message
From the First Baptist Church in America pulpit
75 North Main Street
Providence, RI 02903
The Season of Easter
April 30, 2006
"The Blessedness of Brokenness"
Luke 24:13-35
Dr. Dan Ivins, preaching

“We had hoped he was the one...” sighs Cleopas, as he struggles someplace between the bright hopes of Jesus redeeming Israel and the wrecked wishes of how things turned out. That happens a lot in life. Our text finds 2 of Jesus’ disciples walking along a road, pondering their confusion. Someone in whom they had hoped was gone. And they’re left with that “this-was-all-for-nothing-feeling.” But there was that preposterous story about the empty tomb. It was a trying time – when death was real, and the resurrection ... only hearsay.

So they took a stroll back to something familiar. To Emmaus, a place that’s nowhere, yet everywhere; the trek we take when our noblest dreams of goodness, love, and justice are destroyed. And we lose the fire inside. There was no equivocation about the crucifixion. The cross is about real death. But the resurrection? Well, it's just idle chatter. Somebody said that somebody else said his tomb was empty. But that could mean anything. Nobody saw it. And besides, it was the women who first spread the message. And their word had to be corroborated by Peter.

Even those who encountered Jesus eyeball-to-eyeball had a hard time convincing others it was true. Thomas, for one wouldn't buy it, until he saw it. Touching the wounds got him to proclaim “Jesus is Lord.” Then John speaks to the rest of us “who have not seen...” Because nobody was there – for the rumored resurrection, we too have a decision to make about what we’ve heard about it. Just like the disciples on the road. Only Luke tells the story. I’m guessing that most of us, are familiar with it. It’s the road you walk when you’ve lost something precious. Or a child turns out bad. Or your loved one dies. It leaves an empty feeling in the pit of your belly. The road to Emmaus is the long road back ... to the empty house, to life as usual ... if life is ever usual. You haven’t lived till you’ve been on that road of disappointment. Walking on it is the living definition of sad.

Two despondent disciples are re-living last week's stormy events: Unfair trial, cruel crucifixion, kind burial. Then the women's vision of angels at the empty tomb. Death is real! And the resurrection? Ah its just a rumor. But before long a Stranger overtakes them and asks, “What are ya’ll talking about?” "You must be the only person in Jerusalem who doesn't know what happened." Cleopas tells the Stranger how things looked promising, as Jesus impressed everybody with his eloquence and miracles.

But how things quickly soured, so that there was nothing left for them to do but look for a different Messiah. “We hoped he was to be the one to redeem Israel." But things don’t always turn out like we hoped. And Jesus didn’t turn out to be what they were looking for. It's a devastating feeling when your Messiah lets you down. Maybe you’ve felt that kind of setback. But it’s all over now. So on the road to Emmaus, back to business as usual. And that's when their Partner explodes: "How foolish! How slow of heart! If you read your Bible, none of this would be a surprise!" It's right there in black and white: The Christ of God is not the one who dominates and rules. He’s the one who serves and ministers.

God’s Christ is not the undefeated champion; he’s the suffering servant, the broken one, who enters glory with his wounds still visible. The scars are the only proof that he is who he says. Because the way you recognize Jesus is not by his muscles, but by his blemishes. Which means his followers, we’re not to run from the painful parts of our lives anymore. Or interpret our failures as final, nor be afraid of our enemies, or even a little inconvenience like death. Contrary to common sense, like our Leader, we are not warriors, but physicians -- wounded healers, whose credentials are our own sore spots. The scars on your very soul are your qualifications to lead.

“Starting with Moses and working his way through the prophets,” the Stranger “opens their minds to the scriptures.” And they hang onto his every word. He opened their minds! Do you feel the surgery of that? How’d you like to be in that Sunday School class? They’re wounded and he's telling them they aren't losers after all. If the Easter rumors are true, then maybe they could resurrect their crucified hopes.

Intrigued, they ask him to stay awhile, and he does. It’s their house, their food, but he’s the host. When He breaks the bread, “their hearts begin to burn.” The wounds in his wrists are exposed when his sleeves fall back as he raises his arms. “It’s the Lord!” Isn’t it? Then he’s gone!

That’s the only way we realize our blindness ... afterwards when we can see. But blindness won’t keep Jesus away. Because he doesn’t limit his appearances to those who always get it right. He comes precisely to those who don’t -- those sinned against; who are crestfallen and dejected, with nothing to look forward to. And to those who need him most, he gives what they need. Rather than what they want. Jesus comes to those who don’t know their Bibles so well; who can’t even recognize him when he’s walking beside them. Those who have given up and feel like there’s nothing left to live for and no place to go but home. Which makes this a story about the blessedness of brokenness.

And that's not just good news, but the only news -- if you happen to be somebody who’s broken. Jesus seems to prefer being with broken people, with broken dreams, in a broken church. Disillusionment is not a bad thing. If it means “the loss of an illusion.” We could all stand a good dose of that! Church is where we should lose our illusions about ourselves, God, life, and the church.

Letting go of our illusions is painful, but it’s never wrong to release the lies we misconstrue for truth. When our Savior fails us, our first task is to realize what’s not true. Then we’re free to seek what is. How liberating, to turn away from the god who’s supposed to be, in order to follow the God who is!

Luke’s story shows how every letdown has the potential to become a lesson and a lure. Every time God declines to meet our expectations, another idol gets exposed. So its in Emmaus, not the garden, where the disciples believed because that’s where “their eyes were opened.” And they recognized the source of their consternation wasn’t God but themselves and their stingy imaginations.

The walk to Emmaus is about those times when it hurts to look back, and its scary to look ahead, Jesus is beside them bringing hope where there is no hope, to scold, dis-illusion, in order to replace it with new hope. He breaks a loaf of bread. Jesus seems to be at home with brokenness ...because that’s the only way life can be shared.

If you came in discouraged today, you ought to understand this story. Luke offers several positive things we can do to get over our hurts. First, we can look back to the scriptures. Jesus believed knowing the Bible is a good thing. So He came beside them and “opened the scriptures.”

They weren’t just walking along the road. Jesus took ‘em on a walk through the Bible! Being reminded of the biblical journey made a difference in their composure. It added to their understanding; raised their aspirations; brightened the future.

There’s a story about a man who came across a 12 year old snapping turtle with a funny shape to it. When it was young somehow it had a piece of plastic from a milk carton around its shell. It appeared deformed like an hour glass. The man snipped the plastic so that when the snapper reaches full maturity, weighing 30 pounds it at least had a chance of survival. But after he cut the plastic, nothing happened right away. Nothing. Except one thing. Now the snapper had a future. That’s what Jesus gave to the two on the Emmaus Road.

It helps if we can make sense out of our pain. We have these scripture stories. They are opened week after week in worship, and contain a rich repository of truth and religious experience that can grow our faith like nothing else can. For your disappointments, I offer the scriptures to restore hope.

I have never known of anybody going through a tough time and turned to the Bible, without discovering something there to speak to their situation. Jesus reminded them what God does when the world caves in on us. Its encouraging to discover that the God who raises dead bodies can also restore lost hopes.

The next thing Jesus did was to participate in a time of fellowship with his friends. After instructing them in the Bible, he accepted an invitation to come in for supper. Then he provides the menu. We now call it Luke 24. But it shows the importance of fellowship/koinonia.

How good it is to have dependable friends. This world won’t slow down one second for your pain. But the church will. Having a place to share meals together, and pray for one another, to try to understand, to encourage. Where else can you be taken in when you feel left out?

I know there are people here who understand suffering and pain and life and death, who want to be there for others. It’s the best thing about church because it’s a re-enactment of Jesus sharing on the road. It’s sad to see people who are hurting stay away from church. Sometimes its because they claim the church has hurt them. That happens a lot in churches because they’re full of people. And that’s what people do. Is it a reason or an excuse? Inviting Jesus to share in their moment of confusion renewed two of his friends on the road. And it can revive you.

Another thing we can do when we’re discouraged is to look forward to the resurrection. There would be no Christianity without resurrection. “If Christ be not risen we are yet in our sins.” On Sunday night of the 3^rd day, Easter hadn’t happened to Cleopas and his friend yet. When “their eyes were opened” they knew the resurrection was real and not just a rumor.

It changed their whole outlook. This story speaks to those times in our lives when we think we’ve come to the end. But “the end” is not a Jesus-word. He took the trouble to go to Emmaus because he doesn’t want us to forget that God never runs out of life.

Disappointments hurt. There’s no denying it. But Luke shows us some things that can take the sting out. I offer these methods Jesus used to you: Look back to the scriptures. Look around to the fellowship. Look forward to the resurrection. Nothing will hurt for long if you can do this.

They “had hoped he was the one to redeem Israel.” Surprise, surprise, surprise! Not just Israel, but the whole world!

 Prayer: Gracious God, we gather in worship to celebrate the resurrection of your Son and offer ourselves as his disciples. As the Risen Christ made himself known by his sacramental deeds, so help us to make him known by how we approach life, whether we love one another or judge one another, and how serious we are about spreading your good news.

From a world that leaves good people at the mercy of the strong and powerful, we come to worship the God who turns crosses into crowns. When our hopes are crushed by the baffling experiences of life, when our faith has taken a hit, grant us the grace to be open-minded learners and the courage to be devoted believers.

As Jesus was always combining new knowledge with the old, and saw value in table fellowship to help turn the vanquished into victors, even so enable us see the Risen Lord, walking the roads where we live, facing our lives shoulder to shoulder.

Walk beside us Lord, in our own pilgrimage: walk beside the sick who are despondent in their pain; walk beside the lonely who think no one cares whether they live or die; walk beside those who don’t yet know you as Savior and Lord; walk beside those who tend and comfort the dying; walk beside those whose wounds of body, mind, or spirit are not yet healed.

Walk beside us in this church, Lord. Help us to recognize you as the Stranger in our midst. May we never take the news of resurrection to be an idle tale. Rather may we take it to every corner of the earth, because we have noticed our “hearts burning within us.”

In the spirit of those who walked with you on the road to Emmaus, we believe. In the name of him who comes alongside of us, even though we don’t recognize him, we pray...Amen.