From Despair to Where
4th May 2014
Have you ever put your confidence in something?
For me... 2012, 2010, 2001, 1999, 1995, 1993, but particularly 2001! Why? Because, as Chas and Dave sung ten years previously, “It’s lucky for Spurs when the year ends in 1”.
In 1991 we won (I say “we”, but I was 11 years old and watching it from the sofa in my parents’ lounge, so I did very little) the F.A. cup for the record 8th time.
Each of these following years mentioned, Tottenham Hotspur reached semi-final, travelled to Wembley, and thousands of fans hoped, daring to believe we could reach the final and lift the trophy once more, ready to book tickets for the climax, but each time disappointed. Left with little hope of every achieving anything. 2 league cup titles (1999 and 2008) don’t give us a lot to brag about.
I didn’t come here to talk to you about Tottenham, and the disappointment that their fans know and understand so well, but maybe you have a team, or event, or person, that you have placed your hopes in, only to have those hopes pulled down, leaving you in despair (I won’t go into the story of my second engagement, but it’s possibly a closer analogy to the feelings Jesus’ disciples may have experienced).
We may have heard this story many times, anaesthetised to the emotions of the disciples. We’ve already celebrated Easter (for several years), and remember the risen Christ.
We have two disciples travelling to Emmaus. I tried to find out about Emmaus. There are 9 suggested sites. 4 of these are considered more likely. So there is little that can be said, without talking about the history of 4 places that I think has little, if anything, to do with this story. This roads, from Jerusalem to Emmaus, may hold as much or more significance in where it had come from, as where it was going.
The disciples had left their capital. The home of the temple, where God lived. Taken over by the Romans, the promised land was once more not the place they had hoped it would be, until this man. This man that claimed he could tear down the temple and rebuild in three days. This man that spoke with authority no one had ever seen before. This man that could perform works and wonders as no one had ever done before. They believed he could be the one. This was the time, and this was the place, the grand final, and his team would win! Instead of the Palm Sunday crowds continuing to cheer support, the mood turned. Fewer and fewer wore his scarf, or turned up to the game. And we know the final score – High Priest, 1 dead body, Jesus, nothing. (Maybe when I talk about evangelism I’ll use rugby analogies, and the sermon will be all about conversions).
These two disciples travelled the road from despair to where? We don’t really know. Emmaus – an unknown village. Did they live there? Did they plan to hide there, rather than return to Galilee? Did they have family? Was it anywhere but Jerusalem?
They walked and talked. Cleopas, and his companion (wife?), I imagine, went over and over the events of the last week, months, maybe years. Remembering all the things that Jesus had taught them, recounting the miracles he had performed, smiled at the thought of shared laughter, but failing to understand these final events. How could they have been so foolish? To have left their home, leave everything behind, and really believe that this man would be the one to save them. Have we all travelled that road, in one way or another?
Then a stranger appears. And, as strangers so often do, he sticks his nose in, wanting to know what they’re talking about. Doesn’t want to be left out? Or maybe has something useful to chip in?
Sometimes though, a stranger is easier to talk to. They don’t know us, and we may never see them again, so what does it matter what we tell them, and what they might think of us as a result. Cleopas spills the beans. They were followers of Jesus, a great and powerful prophet who was crucified. They had hopes that were dashed.And yet, something amazing – some women had a vision of angels, and were given the news that he was alive.
And the stranger tells them they’re “foolish”. His first comment on anything that they have said. And then he has his penny’s worth to throw in. I don’t imagine they appreciated his company at that point. But we know, don’t we? This was Jesus. Was he testing them? They knew the promises of the scriptures, had witnessed Jesus’ ministry, and yet failed to rejoice in what had been accomplished. So once more they were reminded of all that they had heard and seen. Not quite so unfriendly or judgmental now. They were... comforted? Enlightened? Yet they still didn’t understand. There was still more they wanted to know (I believe), and so they invited the man to stay. Only was it in the breaking of bread did they recognize who they had been speaking to. The women were speaking the truth. The angels had appeared with good news, and they were witnesses to this.
One of the most likely sites of the village of Emmaus is actually 18 miles from Jerusalem, not the 7 suggested in Luke (some manuscripts suggest 160 stadia, which would make this site much more likely). Have you ever walked 14 miles in a day? I know I did ten once. That would be the seven, and the return journey. How about 36? Some suggest that they may have ridden the return, or that the excitement of their encounter would encourage them to hurry, and so it may be possible. If we remember, how did we feel when we met Jesus? The first time? Second? Third? Was the excitement so great that distance was relative, and no far was too far to take the news we had to share? These followers may have travelled back 7 mile, or maybe 18, to confirm to the others what the women had said.
As I think about this story once more, I wonder, is it the case that every time I am asked what I am talking about, I have an opportunity to share the gospel? Even with the flaw in my understanding, maybe the stranger has wisdom to offer?
My second question, how far is too far? How far am I willing to go with the story I have of meeting Jesus? Cliff College sent me to Romania (only for a fortnight), but how far am I willing to go? Will I leave my home and give up all that I have? Will I make the extra distance to carry the urgent news that Jesus appeared to me?
Beyond this story we are told Jesus appeared to them again, and again, before sending the Holy Spirit. In meeting together, sharing, worshipping, we can encounter the risen Christ once more, but our eyes and ears, hearts and minds, need also to open to Christ in the stranger.
As I browsed the internet I came across this quote that I think would suit the fishermen among the disciples quite well – “No matter where we travel or whatever road we take, we will always remember our days spent at the lake.”
As we carry on through this Easter, let us remember together the stories of the prophets, the miracles and teaching of Jesus, remembering our days at the lake, and ready to encounter him once more.
Patrick Coad
For me... 2012, 2010, 2001, 1999, 1995, 1993, but particularly 2001! Why? Because, as Chas and Dave sung ten years previously, “It’s lucky for Spurs when the year ends in 1”.
In 1991 we won (I say “we”, but I was 11 years old and watching it from the sofa in my parents’ lounge, so I did very little) the F.A. cup for the record 8th time.
Each of these following years mentioned, Tottenham Hotspur reached semi-final, travelled to Wembley, and thousands of fans hoped, daring to believe we could reach the final and lift the trophy once more, ready to book tickets for the climax, but each time disappointed. Left with little hope of every achieving anything. 2 league cup titles (1999 and 2008) don’t give us a lot to brag about.
I didn’t come here to talk to you about Tottenham, and the disappointment that their fans know and understand so well, but maybe you have a team, or event, or person, that you have placed your hopes in, only to have those hopes pulled down, leaving you in despair (I won’t go into the story of my second engagement, but it’s possibly a closer analogy to the feelings Jesus’ disciples may have experienced).
We may have heard this story many times, anaesthetised to the emotions of the disciples. We’ve already celebrated Easter (for several years), and remember the risen Christ.
We have two disciples travelling to Emmaus. I tried to find out about Emmaus. There are 9 suggested sites. 4 of these are considered more likely. So there is little that can be said, without talking about the history of 4 places that I think has little, if anything, to do with this story. This roads, from Jerusalem to Emmaus, may hold as much or more significance in where it had come from, as where it was going.
The disciples had left their capital. The home of the temple, where God lived. Taken over by the Romans, the promised land was once more not the place they had hoped it would be, until this man. This man that claimed he could tear down the temple and rebuild in three days. This man that spoke with authority no one had ever seen before. This man that could perform works and wonders as no one had ever done before. They believed he could be the one. This was the time, and this was the place, the grand final, and his team would win! Instead of the Palm Sunday crowds continuing to cheer support, the mood turned. Fewer and fewer wore his scarf, or turned up to the game. And we know the final score – High Priest, 1 dead body, Jesus, nothing. (Maybe when I talk about evangelism I’ll use rugby analogies, and the sermon will be all about conversions).
These two disciples travelled the road from despair to where? We don’t really know. Emmaus – an unknown village. Did they live there? Did they plan to hide there, rather than return to Galilee? Did they have family? Was it anywhere but Jerusalem?
They walked and talked. Cleopas, and his companion (wife?), I imagine, went over and over the events of the last week, months, maybe years. Remembering all the things that Jesus had taught them, recounting the miracles he had performed, smiled at the thought of shared laughter, but failing to understand these final events. How could they have been so foolish? To have left their home, leave everything behind, and really believe that this man would be the one to save them. Have we all travelled that road, in one way or another?
Then a stranger appears. And, as strangers so often do, he sticks his nose in, wanting to know what they’re talking about. Doesn’t want to be left out? Or maybe has something useful to chip in?
Sometimes though, a stranger is easier to talk to. They don’t know us, and we may never see them again, so what does it matter what we tell them, and what they might think of us as a result. Cleopas spills the beans. They were followers of Jesus, a great and powerful prophet who was crucified. They had hopes that were dashed.And yet, something amazing – some women had a vision of angels, and were given the news that he was alive.
And the stranger tells them they’re “foolish”. His first comment on anything that they have said. And then he has his penny’s worth to throw in. I don’t imagine they appreciated his company at that point. But we know, don’t we? This was Jesus. Was he testing them? They knew the promises of the scriptures, had witnessed Jesus’ ministry, and yet failed to rejoice in what had been accomplished. So once more they were reminded of all that they had heard and seen. Not quite so unfriendly or judgmental now. They were... comforted? Enlightened? Yet they still didn’t understand. There was still more they wanted to know (I believe), and so they invited the man to stay. Only was it in the breaking of bread did they recognize who they had been speaking to. The women were speaking the truth. The angels had appeared with good news, and they were witnesses to this.
One of the most likely sites of the village of Emmaus is actually 18 miles from Jerusalem, not the 7 suggested in Luke (some manuscripts suggest 160 stadia, which would make this site much more likely). Have you ever walked 14 miles in a day? I know I did ten once. That would be the seven, and the return journey. How about 36? Some suggest that they may have ridden the return, or that the excitement of their encounter would encourage them to hurry, and so it may be possible. If we remember, how did we feel when we met Jesus? The first time? Second? Third? Was the excitement so great that distance was relative, and no far was too far to take the news we had to share? These followers may have travelled back 7 mile, or maybe 18, to confirm to the others what the women had said.
As I think about this story once more, I wonder, is it the case that every time I am asked what I am talking about, I have an opportunity to share the gospel? Even with the flaw in my understanding, maybe the stranger has wisdom to offer?
My second question, how far is too far? How far am I willing to go with the story I have of meeting Jesus? Cliff College sent me to Romania (only for a fortnight), but how far am I willing to go? Will I leave my home and give up all that I have? Will I make the extra distance to carry the urgent news that Jesus appeared to me?
Beyond this story we are told Jesus appeared to them again, and again, before sending the Holy Spirit. In meeting together, sharing, worshipping, we can encounter the risen Christ once more, but our eyes and ears, hearts and minds, need also to open to Christ in the stranger.
As I browsed the internet I came across this quote that I think would suit the fishermen among the disciples quite well – “No matter where we travel or whatever road we take, we will always remember our days spent at the lake.”
As we carry on through this Easter, let us remember together the stories of the prophets, the miracles and teaching of Jesus, remembering our days at the lake, and ready to encounter him once more.
Patrick Coad
