Our Sermons

Bible Passage: Luke 24:13-35
Pastor: Pastor Schlicht
Sermon Date:  April 21, 2019

On a cold January morning in 2007, at the top of the elevators against a bare wall, a man opened up his violin case and began to serenade a Washington, D.C. metro station. He played for 45 minutes during which time over 1,000 people walked past. Yet $32.17 was all that filled his case when he finished. A lousy morning of tips for a street musician might not sound remarkable, except the musician who played that morning was Joshua Bell, arguably the best violinist in the world. And he played some of the most difficult pieces ever written on his own Stradivarius, a violin worth 3.5 million dollars. In fact, just days before playing in this subway, Joshua Bell sold out at a theater in Boston where the average seat went for $100. But incognito in a baseball cap, blue jeans, and a t-shirt, people didn’t even notice he existed. As it happens, exactly one person recognized him. Only one. Among the sea of people rushing past, one solitary woman stopped to appreciate the beauty in the metro station that day.

If we can walk right past someone like Joshua Bell at his best, it makes me wonder what more important presence might we be missing? How many mornings do we rush to work or school, oblivious of the fact that God has filled each day with the opportunity to find him? How many nights do we lay down, exhausted, wondering if our efforts amount to anything at all, when God has promised that, in his love, every day and every action can have eternal purpose? How many times do we rush past our Savior in the subway station without recognizing him? How many times does the beautiful melody of his resurrection hope get drowned out by our readiness to expect and accept defeat? This morning as we celebrate the resurrection, we are going to look at a time when Jesus went incognito on the very first Easter. And you will find that the key to having hope is recognizing him for who he really is.

We begin with Luke 24, verse 13: Now that same day two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem. They were talking with each other about everything that had happened. These two travelers are known as the Emmaus disciples, because that’s all we know about them. They lived in Emmaus and they were close disciples of Jesus. They weren’t part of his inner 12, but they did follow him and were close enough to the action on Easter morning to hear the women’s report of the empty tomb. One was named Cleopas and the other is only referred to as his companion. And here they are on Sunday afternoon, dejectedly discussing the events of the past days, walking the 7-mile road from Jerusalem to Emmaus.

And that’s when Jesus shows up. As they talked and discussed these things with each other, Jesus himself came up and walked along with them; but they were kept from recognizing him. It seems that Jesus doesn’t want them to see him, not yet anyway. Just begin to note at this point how Jesus hides himself. I’ll touch on that more later. But Jesus comes up to them incognito and he simply asks them, What are you talking about? “What are you discussing together as you walk along?” And they stop in their tracks. “They stood still, their faces downcast.” Their hearts disappointed. Their dreams dashed on the rocks of the death of the one they thought might be the Messiah. And there is such great irony here: Dejected and downcast, Cleopas asks Jesus, “Are you the only one visiting Jerusalem who does not know the things that have happened there in these days?” (Have you been living under a rock?) The irony is, of course, that Jesus is the only one who really knows what has happened. But he plays along, “What things?” “About Jesus of Nazareth,” they replied. “He was a prophet, powerful in word and deed before God and all the people. The chief priests and our rulers handed him over to be sentenced to death, and they crucified him; but we had hoped that he was the one who was going to redeem Israel.” Cleopas and his friend had high hopes for Jesus. The Messiah, it was thought, would come and drive out the Romans, and all the other oppressors in a great victory and justice would reign. But Jesus was dead. He didn’t even fight back. He didn’t even try to liberate the people. So when Jesus hung on the cross their hope hung there with him.

The thing that hits with me is the little phrase “we had hoped”. “We had hoped”—for the grammar lovers, this is the “present imperfect” verb tense. It means in the past something happened repeatedly, but it no longer happens in the present. And it’s not the tense we like to hear in matters of hope or faith, is it? We like to hear future tenses. We like it when people say that everything will be okay, that they will make it through, that things will get back to normal. We like future tenses. We like saying that the sun will rise tomorrow and that life will go on. But in this unguarded moment, Cleopas gives voice to words we recognize as both heartbreaking and realistic: “We had hoped.” So much is said in those 3 words because they speak not only of the loss of the past but the loss of a future that is now dead. And there are few things more tragic than a dead future. Once challenged to write a short story in six words, Ernest Hemingway wrote on a napkin: “For Sale: Baby shoes, never used.” It’s not just the tragedy of what happened that hurts, but the gaping hole of all that could have happened, but never will. “We had hoped…” I appreciate these 3 words not because I enjoy wallowing in dark or sentimental emotions, but because they ring true to me. I have heard families use this phrase when they’re packing up the things at the ICU. “We had hoped,” they say, and then head home just like the Emmaus disciples. Do you recognize these 3 words? We had hoped things were going to be different this time. We had hoped God was going to heal the disease. We had hoped that God was going to take the addiction away. We had hoped that if we said a prayer we would have peace. We had hoped that if our wedding was in a church the marriage would work. We had hoped that when we became a Christian the doubts and difficulties would go away. We had hoped. But that’s over now. We went there. We tried that. We put our faith in him and he was crucified. We had hope, but not anymore.

The Emmaus disciples are heading home. Because what else would you do? I get that. But what they say next is just puzzling. Listen to this, “…we had hoped that he was the one who was going to redeem Israel. And what is more, it is the third day since all this took place.” Remember, Jesus had told his followers that he would rise again on the third day. He said it many times. “I will destroy this temple, but on the third day I will raise it again.” “The Son of man will be betrayed into the hands of sinners, and will die, but on the third day, be raised again! I get that they are downcast. I get that they have given up, but I don’t understand why they decided to leave on Sunday. This is the third day! And it gets crazier, They say this: In addition, some of our women amazed us. They went to the tomb early this morning but didn’t find his body. They came and told us that they had seen a vision of angels, who said he was alive. Then some of our companions went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said, but they did not see Jesus.” Why are they leaving? Wouldn’t you at least wait to see if any of this checked out? Wouldn’t you stay at least until Monday? But this too is true to form for us, isn’t it? We quit so quickly when hope is lost. We quit even when we are so close sometimes. We give up on God when we can’t see him. The Emmaus disciples were headed home and they almost missed it. Despite it being the third day, they were convinced with what their eyes saw, Jesus was crucified and buried and people don’t get up after that. So despite it being Sunday, the very day they should have expected a resurrection, they are on the road out of town.

But the beauty of this story, for us just as much as for them, is that in their hopelessness, hope was walking right next to them. In their sorrow, on the road, in the very moment they least expected to encounter their Savior, he was present, even if they didn’t recognize him.

Jesus likes to stay hidden sometimes doesn’t he? I think this is so fascinating. Think about it, Jesus was born in a nowhere town like Bethlehem to peasant parents. He lived the first 30 years of his life hidden, unassuming and undetected, in Nazareth as a carpenter’s son. Then when he, the Son of God, begins to show just a sliver of his power by performing miracles he tells people to keep in under wraps. When he is transfigured on the mount, who did he show? Just three of his closest disciples and, again, commands them not to tell anyone about it! He continues to teach and preach and finally when he is arrested, although he could have called down legions of angels to fight for him, he instead is silent and allows himself to be brutally crucified on a cross. Jesus brought life into our world dressed up as death, talk about incognito, right? And then when he shows his limitless power, as he rises from the dead, what does he do? He sneaks out of the tomb early in the morning before anyone can see him. And walks alongside the Emmaus Disciples hidden from their recognition. As the prophet Isaiah said, “Truly you are a God who hides himself.” (Is 45:15)

This is the way our God works, isn’t it? He goes incognito. He will send glory into your life, but it won’t look like glory. He’ll send blessing into your life, but it will be dressed up like challenges. He’ll send strength into your life, but it won’t look like strength. It will probably look like weakness at first. He’ll send patience into your life dressed up like your children. (I’m not kidding.) You don’t realize it when you’re in the middle of it. But he sends you some of the best times in your life dressed like some of the hardest. He hides himself. And it’s only at the end that we see it was him all along. That he was with us the whole time. Even when we were despairing he was right there. We worship a hidden God! He won justice for our souls through the injustice of his own death. He brought joy to us through his sorrow. He brought us salvation by taking our condemnation. And when he woke up on Easter morning, we see the difficult parts were all part of the plan. And that is exactly what Jesus would explain to them on the road. Jesus said to them, “Did not the Messiah have to suffer these things and then enter his glory?” And beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, he explained to them what was said in all the Scriptures concerning himself.”

The truth is that God will remain hidden to us until we recognize him for who he really is. He isn’t a genie whose lamp we rub in order to get something we want. He isn’t our divine buddy, who helps us out when we get into a jam. My friends, God isn’t going to fit into your expectations. He is too big and too wise. He isn’t part of our plans. We are part of his. He doesn’t want to be recognized as anything he is not. Many people spend their lives chasing a version of God they made up in their own minds, based on their hopes and expectations. And then they get frustrated when they realize he isn’t real! God doesn’t want to be recognized as anything he isn’t. His ways are not our ways, and his thoughts are not our thoughts., So if you want to know who your God is, then look at what he has said about himself. Read the scriptures. There you’ll find, despite how you feel or what you’d expect, God loved you so much that he bled and died for you. You’ll find that he is still the All-powerful Lord who physically rose from the dead. He wasn’t the Messiah the Emmaus disciples hoped for; he was infinitely greater. He didn’t beat the Romans, he defeated death itself; he crushed the Devil’s head; he buried our sins in his tomb and walked out on Easter morning. The truth is what we had hoped for is nothing compared to the hope we have because Jesus is alive. Because God is not constrained by human expectations or limitations.

When Jesus and the two disciples reached Emmaus, they insisted on him staying the night, a common courtesy in that time. But Jesus then turns courtesy on its head, as he takes over the role of the host at the meal. When he was at the table with them, he took bread, gave thanks, broke it and began to give it to them. Then their eyes were opened and they recognized him, and he disappeared from their sight. Perhaps they saw the nail marks in his hands when he broke the bread, perhaps they had seen him bless a meal like this many times before, but whatever it was, Jesus chose this moment, after he had explained the Scriptures to them, to reveal himself as the Risen Lord. And then he disappeared before their eyes. And They asked each other, “Were not our hearts burning within us while he talked with us on the road and opened the Scriptures to us?” Burning hearts, not at seeing Christ in the flesh, mind you, but in realizing he was with them all along. Burning hearts as a result of understanding who Jesus is as he identifies in the Scriptures. Burning hearts which realized that they have hope, because Jesus rose from the dead. And with that they  ran back to Jerusalem, down the same road, this time rejoicing in the truth of the resurrection.

I pray that this may be the second half of the trip for you as well. May you get up and return to your homes with the joy of the resurrection burning in your hearts. I pray that you see who God is only as revealed in the Scriptures. I pray that you stop and recognize who has been playing the music, so to speak. That you see God has been with you every step of the way, that you begin to notice his hidden, yet steady care in every aspect of your life. And I pray most of all, that regardless of what we had hoped for, today we trust that because Jesus is risen, we always have hope. Amen.