An Idle Tale?

Luke 24:1-12

How did the disciples react when on Easter morning the women gave them the joyous news of the resurrection? According to Luke’s gospel, “…these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them” (Luke 24:11). How is it possible that the followers of Jesus so easily dismissed as foolishness what they were told? That’s a question we should all ponder, because day in and day out we are faced with good news of great joy but time after time we set it aside as nonsense. The starving are fed in impoverished parts of the world, houses are built for the homeless, justice is found for the oppressed, the sick are comforted, all in the name of Jesus Christ. Do these sound like idle tales? Why, then, do we seem most focused on dissension and schism? Why do we gage the validity of someone’s faith by worldly ideals? Why do we insist on sitting in doubt when given the chance to join Peter in a dash to discovery?

In these days following the celebration of Easter I, like many other church professionals and volunteers, face physical, emotional, and spiritual fatigue. I need a chance to recharge my batteries so that I can resume my efforts. But this is no time to dismiss the news that the women bring, no time to shutter the windows and put out the lights. Jesus Christ is risen! The truth is all around us. Thanks be to God.

Prayer: Lord, forgive us when we dismiss the gospel in order to follow our own whims. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

The Lord of Leftovers

Luke 24:36-53

"While in their joy they were disbelieving and still wondering, he said to them, 'Have you anything here to eat?' They gave him a piece of broiled fish, and he took it and ate in their presence" (Luke 24:41). It is tempting to make some significant assumptions based on these few verses. After all, this is an account of the risen Christ appearing to the disciples. And in the face of their wonder and disbelief Jesus goes so far as to ask for food. Can a resurrected person actually eat? Would he or she need to?

We can leave those very interesting questions for another time. What strikes me today is the relative mundaneness of the event - as mundane as a risen Savior can be. Any number of things might have happened, and a number of important things did, but the resurrected Jesus is Lord of more than just the big stuff, the healing and the storm-calming. Jesus is also the Lord of leftovers, of broiled fish eaten among friends. Whatever that piece of fish may have meant at that moment it was still fish. Someone had caught it, someone had cleaned it, someone had cooked it, all in ordinary, everyday ways. And now Jesus was eating it, and the sacredness of the everyday took on a new clarity. Or maybe we can look at it this way, that the same man who fed a multitude with just a few fish ("big stuff") is not above eating a little fish himself ("small stuff").

Whatever may be going on in your life, whatever issues you may face, they are neither too big nor too small for Jesus' attention. Even the leftovers.

Prayer: Lord of all creation, both great and small, both cosmic and earthbound, your love is offered in our most profound moments of wonder and awe and in our seasons of forgetfulness, of disregard, of self-importance. Help us to recognize your presence. Help us to see the sacred potential in every person and event and that we are constantly on holy ground. In the name of the risen Savior. Amen.

Two Roads

Luke 24:13-35

I like to describe my call to the ministry as more an Emmaus Road experience and less a Damascus Road one. Our reading from Luke for today helps me to explain what I mean. As they walked along the road of Emmaus on the day of Easter, two of Jesus' followers were joined by a stranger who continued on the way with them and explained the scriptures to them so that they would see the truth more clearly (Luke 24:25-27). It was only when this stranger shared a meal with them that they realized it was Jesus (vs. 32). Contrast this story with the one from Acts 9:1-9 (also written by Luke) where Saul is knocked off of his horse by the presence of Jesus Christ. This happened on the road to Damascus.

For some the call to ministry (or to the faith for that matter) is a sudden, life-jarring experience that knocks them down before showing them the way they should go. But others like me have a slow, gradual sense of growing purpose that is sometimes best understood in hindsight. ("Were not our hearts burning within us?" [Luke 24:32].) As I look back on my life I can see the hand of God at work guiding me along the path through my parents, Sunday school teachers, mentors, fellow clergy, and many, many others. There are times I wish I could point to a sudden, life-jarring experience, but I also treasure the thought that God has allowed me to grow in faith and understanding in ways that sustain my ministry today and which I hope are of service to others.

Though the roads to Damascus and Emmaus themselves run in different directions, they each arrive at a place where we may know God to be a real presence in our lives and a source of strength for the living of these days.

Prayer: God of Emmaus and of Damascus, of the gradual dawning of faith and of the sudden jolt of understanding, of the journey and of the destination, of the believer and of the one who wrestles, of the community and of the individual, we come to you in different ways bringing with us different needs, different questions, different circumstances. But you await us in all our diversity because you have never been far from us. For this we offer our thanks and praise, this and all days. Amen.