Monday, May 9, 2011

Easter 3 Sermon Script

"In Our Midst" 2 Kings 6:8-23 Luke 24:13-35

If Jesus were appearing on Broadway, or perhaps at Madison Square Garden, would we go to see him? If the event were sold out, and people were scalping tickets, how much would we pay? Really! To tell the truth, Jesus is the longest-running show in history, but we can’t buy our way in. It takes something much more precious if we wish to see Jesus—it takes personal discipline. We have to be willing to put forth a certain kind of effort.

The US Congregational Life Survey last fall revealed that many of us don't feel that we're growing spiritually. There are strategies that can help us here.

Jesus is in our midst, but if we wish to see Jesus, it requires the two things that are in shortest supply in our busy lives: TIME and PRESENCE. If we wish to see Jesus, we may need to reschedule and refocus. We may need to go back to the Season of Lent and commit to those spiritual practices of study and eating together.

Some years ago, before she became our General Presbyter, Susan Andrews described this yearning to see Jesus as “Holy Heartburn.” She wrote in the Christian Century:

The texts for the third Sunday of Easter are not for the fainthearted. They are about pounding hearts, wounded hearts and burning hearts. And they invite us to encounter the living Christ in the heart of who we are. Kathleen Norris and others remind us that "to believe" is not a matter of the mind, but a matter of the heart. For what we "believe" is what we "give our heart to."

When we meet the disciples on the road to Emmaus, it is evening, and the spectacular glow of the day has begun to fade. Resurrection, at this point, is nothing more than a rumor, a curiosity, an idle tale. And yet when the disciples meet a stranger on the road, it is clear that the possibility of resurrection has intrigued them. They have been talking about it for hours, rehearsing the possibili-ties, arguing about the details, sparring with one another about the theological nuances of an empty tomb. Buried beneath their verbal skirmish, there seems to be a deep yearning and a holy hunger. Intimately intertwined with their skepticism is their hope -- and their need for God to be alive and present.

Here we are in the third week of Easter. Has it made a difference in our life? Has it transformed our world? If the glow of Easter is beginning to fade, perhaps we need to listen to the stranger's words to those disciples on the road to Emmaus. Our translation says, "Oh, how foolish you are, and how slow of heart…"

A less pejorative word than "foolish" might be "unmindful"—they just weren't paying attention. And the second part of the diagnosis, "slow of heart" is actually a medical condition. Listen to the Greek words in the text: βραδεῖς τῇ καρδίᾳ = bradycardia.

Bradycardia is defined as a slow or irregular heart rhythm, usually less than 60 beats per minute. At this rate, the heart is not able to pump enough oxygen-rich blood to your body during normal activity or exercise. You want to DO something but don't have the energy. You want to ACT but can't find the resources. Lots of people, and even churches suffer from bradycardia!

We need to remember that in the ancient understanding of the anatomy of emotions, the heart is the location of intellect. It is the place where our will is found.

"Slowness of heart" represents the indecisiveness of the disciples, who were unwilling to receive and act on the report of the women about the resurrection of Jesus! By the time we get to our reading, these disciples have already had three or four occasions to receive the good news of Easter. And it still doesn't register with them.

The Gospel tells us that Cleopas and his partner overcame their lack of mindfulness, and their slowness of heart, through two straightforward practices that can help us as well. In churchy terms, they used Bible study and Communion. But it would be more accurate to say they shared their stories, and shared their table.

Our Directory for Worship declares that: Christians may worship at any time, for all time has been hallowed by God… Christians may worship in any place, for the God who created time also created and ordered space… God created the material universe and pronounced it good. The covenant community understood that the material world reflects the glory of God.

Anytime, anywhere, and in anything. Sunday morning is no more holy, intrinsically, than any other time. This beautiful sanctuary is no more special than any other place. And the elements of communion—the bread and the cup—are no more sacred than any other meal. If we're not careful, we become blind to the miracle of God's presence everytime, everywhere, in everything—in our midst. We may trudge along the roads of life without perceiving the Holy One walking alongside us.

May I say it? In some ways, those tables last night at the Lucas' house, with the little glasses and the spirit of conviviality, presided over by our own Master Distiller, were every bit as much a Communion as the Sacrament we celebrated here last week!

The burning of the heart is not so different from the warmth produced by a wee taste of single malt. It's a deep inner awareness that something profound is happening as we talk with strangers over the dinner table.

The model for mission that we see at work in Luke 24 is for two of Jesus’ followers to invite a stranger to supper. I wonder how many newer people in the church have been invited to have a meal with any of the older members. It rarely happens in my experience, but it was how Jesus did his ministry, and it’s how he is often present to us today. If we don’t nourish relationships, they cannot grow. It’s that simple, and that important!

The two disciples on the Road to Emaus were not looking for Jesus. But that’s how they found him in the stranger. They were deeply present to the relationship they were having with the stranger. They shared their pain. They listened deeply as the stranger shared the scriptures. And then, together, the three of them shared a meal. And then, in the moment of the breaking of the bread, they saw deeply into reality. In that moment, they had a glimpse of Christ’s presence in their midst. It’s not that the stranger suddenly de-materialized. Rather, the sense of the presence can only be tasted in the present moment.

Andrew M. Greeley tells us "The Eucharist became a celebration of the presence of Jesus among them even when he wasn't visibly present. The trick was to see him present among the others when they broke bread together. So the story of the two disciples who were getting out of town while the getting was good became a eucharistic story, a story which said that Jesus was present whenever the community of his followers broke bread together and indeed whenever people who loved one another ate a common meal."

So… Will we make the effort to discover Jesus in our midst? Perhaps not. Still, we yearn for a sense of his presence. There is an answer to our yearning. The practices of story sharing and table fellowship can nourish our spiritual growth.

There's a beautiful Spanish language hymn "Cuando el Pobre" #407 And we know that God still goes that road with us…

--Jack Lohr, Interim Pastor

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