Last Sunday at church the gospel for 3 Easter was the famous story known as “The Road to Emmaus.” While listening, it brought to mind a movie scene that for years has been a special one for me, one I consider a personal epiphany.
The Third Sunday of Easter gospel this year, recorded by the writer known as Luke, retells a real-time Easter day event of a couple of very depressed disciples of Jesus walking to Emmaus, a town not too far from Jerusalem, the city in which Jesus had been executed just days before. These two disciples were not of the eleven remaining Apostles, but associate followers of Jesus, one going by the name of Cleopas.
The story goes that while the two were on their way, a stranger joined in their journey. I imagine such an occasion was not unusual for the time. No busy highways here, just folks ambling along a dirt road in need of reaching a destination. We don’t know why these two were going to Emmaus, though the writer wants us to know right away that the “stranger” was, in fact, Jesus, though as Luke tells the tale the disciples’ “eyes were kept from recognizing him.”
I imagine I was a kid in elementary school when I first heard this story. At that point in my life Easter was a mighty big deal, though the Lenten period preceding was one that bothered me just about as much as it does today. I was glad Jesus had resurrected himself and all, but the whole violent scene of his being punished for speaking truth to power frankly pissed me off. My awareness of the Emmaus story most probably happened in the 1960s, during those difficult yet brilliant Civil Rights days. I watched the evening news with my parents and knew what civil injustice looked like in America at the time, and it depressed me that in the 2,000 years following the death of Christ, civilization hadn’t found a way to hear the truth and act upon it.
I found it very odd, too, that these followers of Jesus did not recognize him. I mean, really? It’s one thing to have Lois Lane look at Clark Kent and be thrown off from recognizing him because of a suit and those goofy glasses, but followers of Jesus not recognizing him? Of course, the guy did die just a couple days before. Surely they wouldn’t be looking for him on the road to Emmaus. Still, according to Luke’s story, these men were aware of the three day thing. If it really were Jesus, wouldn’t they have recognized his face?
The disciples even took their newly acquired traveling companion to task for not knowing about the death of Jesus. When asked by the stranger why they looked so sad, Cleopas popped off, “Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have taken place there in these days?” Then he goes on to describe how the chief priests handed over what believers thought was the the best hope of Israel’s new day to the Romans for execution. To be sure it was a depressing time for believers.
And that’s what brings me to Jesus of Montreal. This movie retells the tale of an outdoor Canadian passion play that seasonally commemorates the death of Jesus. When they get to the Road to Emmaus part of the story, it is obvious to everybody that the stranger on the road is not, in fact, the same actor who played Jesus. He is a reasonably unrecognizable character wearing a hoodie, with his face in deep shadow.
But when the stranger took bread and wine, blessed it, and offered it to them, the disciples saw something different. Something hopeful. They recognized Jesus in the person of this actual stranger.
And therein I found my own epiphany.
I don’t know if Jesus is/was really God or not. I believe he was a very good dude who promoted community unified amid a universal spirit. He talked about the Father and the Spirit a lot. I recognize both Father and Spirit as code for something that connects us all. Jesus taught followers, after all, to take care of each other. That surely wasn’t the Roman message of the day. Jesus, instead, promoted personal behavior that was beyond the political or legal. In the simple act of sharing bread and wine, a community of caring people developed and is celebrated.
I don’t mean to overstate my sense that I’m a Christian agnostic, something I’ve mentioned here on The Back Porch a couple of times already. Truth is, though, if a body is an agnostic, why in the heck does he still practice religion and go to church?
For me, it’s because I feel we’re all part of something bigger -- something beyond religion. We are all part of a human family who needs to be caring about each other. Lots of teachers, including Jesus and Buddha, promoted the idea.
And on those dark days when we think we’ve been abandoned and are alone, we find strangers who talk to our hearts about the solidarity of taking care of each other that connects us to something so much greater than ourselves.
I hope you get a chance to watch Jesus of Montreal. It surely meant a lot to me. I’ve got a VHS copy and just ordered one in DVD format. Let me know if you want to borrow either.
Today’s elder idea: When he was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened and they recognized him; and he vanished from their sight.
from Luke 24
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