The Paradox of Emmaus (1 of 3 for April 4)

tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12591359.post-79839860520412238382008-04-04T08:52:00.002-05:002008-04-04T08:55:50.478-05:00The Paradox of Emmaus (1 of 3 for April 4)<a href="http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:5VtA78CWhdDh8M:http://www.edmundschools"><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:5VtA78CWhdDh8M:http://www.edmundschools" border="0" /></a> <div align="center">Blog 1 of 3 for April 4, 2008 – Final thoughts on Easter – the Paradox of Emmaus </div> <div align="left"> I am catching up on blogs from last week. Several thoughts through my mind as the first week of April draws to close…. Have you ever read Luke 24? The post-resurrection account of the doctor-evangelist? Luke 24 begins simply enough – the stone is gone; the body of Jesus gone missing. One of my favorite short passages in all of Christian thought is Frederick Buechener’s entry on Easter, found on pages 45-47 of his book Whistling in the Dark. He writes: Christmas has a large and colorful cast of characters including not only the three principals themselves but the angel Gabriel, the Innkeeper, the Shepherds, the Heavenly Host, the Three Wise Men, Herod, the Star of Bethlehem, and even animals kneeling in the straw. In one form or another we have seen them represented so often that we would recognize them anywhere. We know about the birth in all its detail as well as we know about the births of ourselves or our children, maybe more so….With Easter it is entirely different….It is not a major production at all, and the minor attractions we have created around it – the bunnies and baskets and bonnets, the dyed eggs – have so little to do with what it’s all about that they neither add much nor subtract much. It’s not really even much of a story when you come right down to it, and that is of course the power of it. It doesn’t have the ring of great drama. It has the ring of truth. The symbol of Easter is an empty tomb. A tomb. Full of space. Air. Probably damp. Musty or musky. Just empty dustiness and the silence of stone getting older. You may have seen Mel Gibson’s Passion of the Christ. To me the most authentic part of the movie was the resurrection seen at the end. Oh yes, I was moved by the passion, but the scene that stuck with me was the shortest, seemingly least heroic of all of the scenes. Jesus in the movie, and in the gospels, just gets up. He walks out. He leaves emptiness behind. And that is all. Does there need to be anymore? Luke who tends to be wordier than his three brothers Mark, Matthew, and John, gives us three scant verses. Luke 24:1 But on the first day of the week, at early dawn, they came to the tomb, taking the spices that they had prepared. 2They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, 3but when they went in, they did not find the body. What Luke want us to get to, what seems to really matter to him is that Jesus is recognized by those who would follow, by those who would be his disciples, by those who would – well, by us. Just as Buechener reminds us that we easily recognize Christmas, Luke wants us to remember and have our consciousness imprinted by this risen Lord, Savior, King, and Friend. Along the way to Emmaus, again all in Luke 24, Jesus the resurrected one walks with some of his disciples and they discuss Old Testament theology, Jesus’ role in the world, and the events from Good Friday to Easter Sunday. And the whole way, they have no idea who Jesus is. And so the crisis: will they recognize him? Will they know? Will they tell? And then verse 30: 30 When he was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. 31 Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him; and he vanished from their sight. And here is the paradox of Emmaus, and maybe the paradox of knowing Jesus Christ; maybe it what Luke has been driving at all along. At question: why does Jesus vanish as soon as he is recognized? Discipleship, at its heart is not a destination. We never arrive and are complete with the Lord. As soon as we “get him,” pin him down, recognize him on our terms, Jesus is calling us to another destination, another journey, another servanthood, another mission. As soon as we arrive, we are called somewhere else. So the Emmaus of Luke, and its paradox, is that Emmaus is not a final stop. It is an invitation to travel, grow, and walk with the Lord. Jesus will open our eyes. And he will call us elsewhere. The beginning of Easter may be the empty tomb; but the end is the overflowing heart; a heart meant to recognize; a heart meant to serve; a heart meant to journey with our Lord.</div>Christopher Edmonstonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17047426380203051633ccedmonston@embarqmail.com0