Easter 2
Luke 24:13-35

“While they were talking and discussing, Jesus himself came near and went with them, but their eyes were kept from recognizing him.” Can you recall a time when you ran into someone you knew, but for a portion of the conversation you didn’t recognize them… didn’t remember why they were familiar? When I taught at Pinole Valley High School just before going to seminary, I lived four miles from the school. So I frequently ran into students in stores, restaurants, and movie theaters. I really enjoyed this! But every so often, someone would say, “Hi, Ms. Schaefer!” and I would turn and look, and the person would be completely unfamiliar. This happened much more frequently with young men, and especially when they were in their late twenties. A man at 28 resembles his 16-year-old self very little!

Have you been able to bring to mind an experience of not recognizing someone? (Or, if you can’t recall a specific incident, can you recall that feeling of unfamiliarity?) The person’s identity is hidden somewhere in the back of your mind; it feels like you know him, but you don’t know why.

Cleopas and his traveling companion are walking away from Jerusalem. It is a somber journey, after a very emotional week. Recall that only a week earlier, they and all of the assembled crowds had cheered and strewn the road with their cloaks as Jesus entered Jerusalem on a donkey: “Hosanna! Hosanna to the son of David!” Only a week ago, they all cheered King Jesus, whom they exalted as the new King David. He would be a mighty warrior king, they thought, and he would overthrow the Romans in a military revolt.

But the week had not gone as they expected. Jesus went about teaching and overthrowing the money tables in the temple, and taking Passover with his friends. And then, suddenly and shockingly, Jesus was arrested, tried, convicted and crucified. All of his followers were devastated. They were in shock.

So, Cleopas and the other follower of Jesus were walking away from Jerusalem, despondent. It is fascinating to note that, even though they have heard reports from the women about an angel, and about how the angel had said Jesus was alive, and even though some of the men had gone to the tomb and found it empty, these two were leaving Jerusalem with their hopes crushed. The events of the end of the week had overwhelmed them, and they were sure it was all over, even though they had heard that the tomb was empty and there had been an angel!

So, here they are, walking away. And a stranger comes and asks them what they are talking about. And, even though it is Jesus, they see a stranger. Their eyes are kept from recognizing him.

Do you sometimes pretend that you remember who the person is, when you are talking with someone that you do not quite recognize? I know that I do that with former students. And I hope, as we are talking, that their name and some facts about them will come to me. I hope that as I listen to them, I will begin to remember.

So, along the road, Cleopas and his friend told the stranger everything that had happened; and he, in turn, told them all about the scriptures that talked about the Messiah – himself. It wasn’t until later, though, that the two realized they had felt a glimmer of recognition as the stranger had talked. It wasn’t until after they had recognized him in the breaking of the bread that they realized their “hearts had been burning” as he opened the scriptures to them.

We can relate to this, can’t we? It is often just after the person has gone on her way that we realize who it was, that we remember her name and why we know her.

Cleopas and his companion are so excited that they immediately leave to return to Jerusalem – even though they have not eaten their meal, and even though it is evening and they will be on the road at night. They have to tell the story.

Twenty centuries later, we don’t often have this same kind of excitement about telling the story of Jesus. But we do still have the experience of not quite seeing him, not quite recognizing him. It is easy for us to be complacent in our faith walk. We have, most of us, followed Jesus for many years – even our whole lives. We go through the motions. We come to church, even come to Bible Study and other meetings and outreaches of the church. But do we see Jesus? Do we even hope to see Jesus? And, if we did, what would he look like?

Would he look like us? Would he look like the homeless person we see on the street corner? Would he look like the elderly person who is unable to get out and is craving human contact?

This is my favorite resurrection story, and I think that’s because it is so relatable. As Cleopas and his companion tell the stranger on the road all about the events of the past week, they say, “But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel.” I can relate to the feeling, “But we had hoped…” Can you? In life, often things don’t go as we plan – outcomes are not what we hoped. These are among the four saddest words in scripture: “But we had hoped…” Hopes dashed, these two are walking away from Jerusalem, away from where they’d seen Jesus killed. They feel as if they are walking away from their hopes and dreams.

The thing is that no matter how hopeless we feel, no matter what disappointments we encounter, Jesus is always walking with us on the road; always eager to hear our stories about our lives and to hear our feelings and fears as we walk along; and Jesus is ready with words of encouragement, telling us how much he loves us. In the midst of our lives, no matter how alone we might feel, we are never actually alone on the road. The stranger came with them along the way and was made known to them in the breaking of the bread. And they got up immediately and headed back to Jerusalem to tell the others and to be with them. They left their uneaten meal and headed out to travel in the dark – all because of their excitement and their need to tell the others. It makes me think of the hymn, “I love to tell the story.” These two just had to tell about their encounter with Jesus.

And we who live nearly two thousand years after these events, in what ways do we encounter Jesus on the road of our life? Do we recognize him? What keeps our eyes from recognizing Jesus? When does our heart burn within us? Where will we go “at that same hour,” and tell what has happened, that Jesus is alive? And what difference does it make in our life that Jesus is risen?

Think on these things.
Amen.