After Disillusionment--February 6, 2020
"Now on that same day two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem, and talking with each other about all these things that had happened. While they were talking and discussing, Jesus himself came near and went with them, but their eyes were kept from recognizing him. And he said to them, 'What are you discussing with each other while you walk along?' They stood still, looking sad. Then one of them, whose name was Cleopas, answered him, 'Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have taken place there in these days?' He asked them, 'What things?' They replied, 'The things about Jesus of Nazareth, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, and how our chief priests and leaders handed him over to be condemned to death and crucified him. But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel. Yes, and besides all this, it is now the third day since these things took place...." [Luke 24:13-22]
It was Easter... but they didn't know it yet.
Or maybe, they were so heartbroken, so disappointed that the unthinkable had actually happened, that they couldn't dare to believe the rumors of resurrection yet. Maybe, as much as Jesus' friends had been fearing for a while he might get himself killed by the powerful, they couldn't believe that it had really happened. They couldn't bring themselves to hope yet.
And really, you can't blame them. While the disciples of Jesus mostly scattered in fear after his arrest, the powerful laughed it up and savored their apparent victory. The Empire was glad to have made one more example out of another troublemaking truthteller when it nailed Jesus to a cross, and the Respectable Religious Crowd were all glad that their devil's-bargain with Rome wasn't going to be questioned any longer now that the Nazarene was gone. They all hooted and hollered in triumph... while this small band of disorganized fishermen and tax collectors all mourned the miscarriage of justice. If all the loud and powerful voices are claiming victory over you and patting themselves on the back, it is hard to feel anything but defeated. That's where Cleopas and his traveling companion were on that Easter Sunday evening: heartbroken that the one they had pinned their hopes on sure seemed to have lost against the political and religious powers of the day.
If you have ever been there, in that same place of disillusionment as the depressed disciples, you know how difficult it is to believe there could be good in the midst of the defeat. You know, I'll bet, how hard it is to bring yourself to hope again when the thing that you've been dreading might happen... does happen. You know, too, I'll bet, what it feels like to just know that Caesar and Pilate and Herod and all their Religious co-conspirators are all licking their lips with satisfaction somewhere, and to feel like you are on the losing side. You know what it's like to walk the Emmaus road in the gathering dark.
And that is exactly why this story keep speaking to us and bringing us to a new kind of life after disillusionment, even though we are all in on the joke now. The plot twist--that it's Jesus all along who has been walking with Cleopas and his friend--isn't a surprise to us, and yet this old, old story has new power to me every time I read it, because you and I keep getting thrust into moments and seasons of life where we feel utterly defeated, and where we can't bring ourselves to hope anymore.
That's when Jesus shows up and does the heavy lifting. He brings hope to us.
Seriously. That's what I love about this story, and what moves me almost to tears every time I read it. When you and me and Cleopas cannot bring ourselves to hope any longer, Jesus brings hope to us when we cannot bring ourselves to hope. He shows up, yes, while Caesar, Herod, and their crew of Empire-Approved Religious Leaders are all still sure they've won the day. Jesus shows up while it looks like the day is lost... and shows us he is alive, even when we cannot let ourselves believe it yet.
You know, I'll bet, what happens next in this story from Luke's Gospel. Rather than tell Cleopas and his companion that it was all a great misunderstanding, or that he's got a plan for revenge, Jesus says, basically, "Yes, this seeming defeat was how it was going to go all along... but don't you worry, this is exactly how God's power for life is going to be revealed, too." Jesus shows up to say that God is up to something that will yank the rug out from underneath not just Herod or Caesar, but death itself (the most arrogant and puffed-up enemy of them all!). And it begins even while the powers of the day think they have won--yes, even while they are still celebrating their victory and assuring themselves that they have the blessing of heaven on their triumph. After all, they killed him right in plain view, and didn't lose an ounce of public support. But right under their noses, there is Jesus--alive, and unstoppable.
I am reminded--especially on days like today when I need it--of Andrew Greeley's famous summary of the resurrection story: "Jesus and his troublemaking go merrily on." That's just it. Cleopas and his traveling companion are not yet ready to see that there is good news in what looks like the victory of a crooked tyrant and his cronies. But Jesus is alive, despite their best efforts to get rid of him. And yes, Caesar, Herod, and the rest will gloat for a while... but they do not know that their power is already broken. The Nazarene they tried to kill won't stay dead. The disciples they tried to intimidate into hopelessness have had hope brought to them by the Risen One. They are about to see what happens when unexpected hope breaks into your view on the other side of disillusionment. They are about to see what happens when the living God resurrects not only the dead body of Jesus, but the deceased hope of his disheartened followers.
This moment on the road is not about exhuming the dead remains of a murdered faith... it is about raising that stifled hope back to life again--for Cleopas, for his traveling companion, for you, and for me.
So today, I don't know what that hope will look like... but I know that it is just at the point we have given up on new life ever breaking through the frosty ground again that spring comes again. And it is just at the point we are sure that Caesar and Herod have won that Jesus shows up, alive and kicking, and once again his troublemaking goes merrily on.
We aren't at the end of the story, dear ones. We aren't at the end of the journey. Even if we can't recognize his presence among us in this moment, when we get around the table, our eyes will be opened to see that Jesus is alive once again, all the attempts of the empire to stop him notwithstanding. And we'll see that even when we couldn't bring ourselves to hope again... Jesus shows up bringing hope to us in his hands like a casserole dish at a potluck.
When we cannot bring ourselves to hope, Jesus brings hope to us.
That's how we face today. Let's go.
Lord Jesus, show yourself to be alive here on the road while we are disheartened, even if we are afraid to hope again.
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