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Lk. 24:13-35
Today Luke gives us a story of pain and confusion that ends in wonder and excitement.
Just a few days after the death of Jesus two of his disciples set out for Emmaus from Jerusalem. They walked, “conversing and debating,” trying to understand what had taken place.
It’s easy to imagine the two men walking and talking, gesturing with their hands, each wanting to make his point. Both grieving the loss of the man they saw as “a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people,” who they they hoped would “be the one to redeem Israel.”
As they walk a stranger joins them and enters the conversation. They were stunned he wasn’t aware of what happened only a few days earlier, so they explained. The stranger responded but what he was saying didn’t sink in. It wasn’t until the three of them sat down to dinner that they realized Jesus was the one who had joined them on their journey and was now sitting across the table from them breaking bread. Then, just as quickly as he appeared earlier in the day, he was gone from their sight.
They were perplexed, “Were not our hearts burning within us while he spoke…?” They immediately changed their plans and went back to the apostles in Jerusalem anxious to share their story of seeing and being with Jesus only to hear similar stories.
The idea of resurrection is difficult to wrap our minds around. We wonder. We were not at the tomb with Mary Magdalene and Peter and the others. We were not in the upper room or on the road to Emmaus.
Yet, how many times has Jesus revealed himself? Our minds, trained in this post-modern world to want proof of everything before we believe, hold us back from thinking beyond what we can see. Have you ever felt the presence of Jesus – if only for a fleeting moment?
My mother died ten years ago, just before Christmas, a time of celebration not a time meant for grieving and funeral planning. She lived a long and good life but suffered in the end. It was a difficult time.
The family gathered for Christmas as we had always done. There were grandbabies to delight with gifts and the joys of Christmas, but there was an ache within each of our hearts.
One night, not long after her death, I had a vivid dream. My mother walked through the front door of our house as she had done countless times over the years. I went to her all the while wondering if this was real.
I felt the need to touch her to believe it was real, so I reached for her arm and she looked at me smiling and said, “I’m fine. Thank you for everything.” She then turned and walked out the front door. I woke up immediately, confused as I knew she was there talking to me, but it did not fit what I knew about death.
I share this story because there is so much, we do not know – cannot know in this life. The communion of saints, a concept I have struggled with, may in fact be a reality that we will only understand when we are there.
Luke wanted us to know that the people who knew Jesus, followed Jesus and loved him, experienced him in their lives after his death. What we do with this knowledge is up to us.
Peace,
Anne
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