“You’ll Never Walk Alone”

Luke 24:13-35

April 10, 2005

St. Paul United Methodist Church

Rev. John Andrew Fleming

Summer is almost here. School teachers in our congregation, who are having a tough year with difficult children can tell you how many days, maybe even hours there are until school lets out for the summer. High School seniors, who have had a case of “senior-itis” for months now can also tell you when the bell will ring for the last time. When I was a kid, I loved walking out of school knowing that I would not have to return for two and a half months. Then I wondered why summer days went more quickly than school days.

Let me say this. Summer is not just for the teachers and the students of the world. It’s for all of us and it is a time when things are supposed to slow down. It’s a time when the things that we put on the calendar are ball games, trips to the pool, and cookouts. It is also a time when we plan vacations. If you are going anywhere this summer, if you are taking a vacation, then you may have already planned it. If you have shared your vacation plans with someone else, and if they have been there themselves, then they may have given you advice on where to stay, where to eat, and what to do. My family is going to Florida this July. If you have been there, I don’t need any advice. My idea of a vacation is to do whatever I want to do whenever I want to do it.

I can remember going on a vacation a year or two before Annie Grace was born. Instead of the warmth of the summer and the beach, we went on a spring break trip to Breckenridge, Colorado. At the time, Susie’s brother was working there. I shared my plans with a friend or two of mine. Their advice was this, “Travel Light.” They knew me. They knew that I tended to take everything that I own on trips. They also knew that there wouldn’t be room in my suitcase for all of the things that you have to take on ski trips, and so they offered the advice. Travel light, now that is good advice for any trip that we take. I heard of an Inn in the upper northwest who placed a placard in every room. Written on the placard were these words, “”Forgotten anything? If You need anything, just ask, and we will tell you how to get along with out.” I like that.

I wonder if you could think of your Bible as advice for travelers? One of things that I tend to preach and teach over and over again is that life, our lives, are a journey. From the very beginning of our lives to their end, and then to eternity, we move towards God. The Bible says that everyone makes this trek. Look at the Old Testament. The journey there is toward a promised land. In the New Testament, the journey is more spiritual and is toward what Jesus liked to call the Kingdom of God. So we are all travelers. There are some books that read like a travel journal. Exodus is a good example of that. There are other books that give travel advice. The writings in Psalms and Proverbs are good for that. In the New Testament, Jesus tells us that he has no where to lay his head, which means that if you follow him, you will always be moving. Never once did Jesus say, “Well, I have this nice place, on the sea, near Capernaum. Why don’t you come up there with me and we will spend a few days shooting the breeze.” No, Jesus never would say such a thing.

The apostle, Paul, gave travel advice. To the quarreling church in Corinth, he said that faith, hope, and love, should be the order of the day, but that the best thing is love. To the Thessalonians, he said something else. There he said that faith, hope, and love, are the order of the day, but that faith is the most important. I guess that that means that the advice depends on who you are, where you are going, and what you have been through.

There really are two pieces of advice for travelers from the Bible. The first is the same that my friends gave me before my trip to Colorado. That advice, you will remember, was to travel light. In the Bible, that means not to get bogged down worrying about the wrong things, unimportant things, because if you do, you will miss the really important things. The second piece of counsel is just as important. And it’s this, you will never walk alone.

When God uprooted Abraham and Sarah and moved them towards the promised land, a story that you will find in Genesis, he said this to them, “Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you.” I will show you means that God went with them. Look at the one hundred and thirty-ninth Psalm. There’s a great lesson. Listen to its words: Where can I flee from your presence? If I go to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast. You will never travel alone. That, I think, is what the resurrection means. Luke wants us to know that in this season after the resurrection of Jesus, we are not alone. Jesus is with us.

Luke wants us to know that and to bring his point home, he tells the story of what happened on Easter evening as two followers of Jesus were making their way home from Jerusalem. Luke doesn’t tell us who these two are. We know who they aren’t. They aren’t two of the original disciples. They are two people who heard Jesus say, “Follow me.” They listened to what he had to say, took it seriously, and followed him. They followed him from Galilee to Jerusalem. And now that Jesus has been crucified, they are on their way home. They live in a village called Emmaus, a village seven miles from Jerusalem. Now the holiday is over. What has happened in Jerusalem has happened. Now they are on their way home, back to their lives, and I guess to their jobs.

Join them on the seven mile walk home and you will know that at times they talk about the things that have happened. Walk with them and you know that on part of the journey, they don’t say a word. Maybe their heads are down. Perhaps their hope is gone. Jesus was with them, but now he is gone and they are helpless now, and so they are on their way home.

Luke tells us that as they walked along, Jesus himself walked with them. They did not recognize him, of course. One of the interesting and strange details of at least a couple of resurrection stories of Jesus is that his followers, those who knew him the best, did not recognize his resurrected body. So Jesus joins them on the hike towards Emmaus. Perhaps he is walking right behind them, hears what they are saying, and politely says, “I am sorry. I could not help but to overhear part of your conversation. Did you say that something terrible happened in Jerusalem? What happened there? Cleopas looked back at Jesus and says, in essence, “Where have you been? Are you sure that you just came from Jerusalem? You must be the only one there who hasn’t heard the news!” With great detail, he tells the stranger about Jesus, the prophet. He told how he was arrested. He told how the chief priests and the leaders treated him. He told him how he was crucified. He also told him other things. He told him about the strange events of the day. He told how women had visited the tomb and found it empty. He told how the women saw an angel who said, “He is not here. He is risen.” Cleopas told how others also went to the tomb, but found nothing. One of the last things that Cleopas says is that it had been three days since these happenings. I think he says words such as these, “It’s all over now. We’re going home!”

Now, let me go back and pick up a word, a phrase that Cleopas said to Jesus. He said, “But we had hoped that Jesus was the one to redeem Israel.” Is there anything much worse than dashed hopes? You know that feeling, don’t you? I had hoped, mom and dad, that the last time I disappointed you so would have been the last time. I guess not. I had hoped that he would be the one for me, that one special someone that God had for me. But now all that I have is a broken heart. I had hoped to get that new job, that different job. I just don’t think that I can go on here any longer. This place is draining the life out of me. I had hoped. I had hoped. You can hear it in those vignettes. You have experienced times like those, perhaps. But do you know what is worse? What is worse is when you think that God has let you down. Listen again to Cleopas’ words, “We had hoped that Jesus was the one to redeem our people, to save us.”

Jesus gently says, “You know that it was prophesied.” And then from the beginning, from Genesis to the prophets, Jesus pointed out all of the passages that spoke of the Messiah. Then they come to Emmaus. Jesus, the stranger, appeared to be going on further. The two followers of Jesus insisted that he stay with them. Maybe they said, “Stay with us. It’s getting dark. Why don’t we have a meal together?” So they sit down at a table. Jesus reaches for the bread, blesses it, breaks it, and hands it to them. Luke tells us that their eyes were opened. He tells us that they recognized him. And when they do, he disappears. And with that, they get up from the table and high foot it back to Jerusalem to tell the disciples what has happened.

This is a great story. It rivals the great stories in the Bible. It has all that you would want in a story. It has suspense and sorrow. It has puzzlement and a flurry of excitement. But my question for you this morning is simply this, “What are we supposed to do with this story?”

Here is what I think. I think that we have all walked along the Emmaus road. I think that we have all felt devastated, discouraged, and confused. When we walk it, we usually do it alone. That is what makes it so bad. We think that nobody knows what we are going through or what we have been through. And what is even worse, we fear that no one cares. Luke says what Easter really means is that we never on the road alone. John, the gospel writer, puts the words on Jesus’ lips, “I will not leave you comfortless. I will come to you.” What I want you to see today is how this Jesus comes to us. The two on the road didn’t recognize him. They thought that he was a stranger. Sometimes Jesus touches our lives so gently. Sometimes it’s not so gently. I have been shoved a time or two by God. But most of the time, God comes to us gently and helps us to keep walking along.

Let me close with a story that I heard again this week. It is the story of two old fishermen who fished up in the northwest. One of them, when he was a young man, had a powerful religious experience. The other man knew that something was missing in his life. The one who had had the experience told about it. He said that when he was a young man, on a cold night, he was fishing on a large boat when a huge wave knocked him overboard into icy waters. He passed out. When he woke up, he was safe and sound on the boat’s deck. He knew that his fellow fishermen had helped him out of the water, but still he was convinced that it was God who spared his life. He told his friend, “Since then, my life has not been the same.”

The one who had something missing in his life heard that and went home, to his cabin in the woods. He tried to sleep, but couldn’t. At four o’clock he got out of his bed, went through the woods behind his cabin, and hiked to the top of a small mountain. He was walking there as the sun began to rise. He felt a chill move through him. He felt a strange presence. He described it like this, “It was as though an unseen, oldest, longest long friend had come to walk the road beside me.” That was it. There was nothing more. It was not overpowering, it was empowering. He says that it was like a friend coming to see you, a friend who knows what you are going through, what you have been dealing with, and who says to you, “Come one, let me walk with you.”

How did the two on the road put this feeling? They said, “Were not our hearts burning within us?” Now go home with these questions on your heart. How has Jesus been made known to you? Where have you seen him? Where have you felt his presence? Where have you felt his nudge and his peace? Let us pray.