Luke 24:13-35
Today we’re continuing to read stories about resurrection, this time from the Gospel of Luke. Let’s think a minute about what these stories are and what they’re not. They aren’t a well-researched catalog of all the times Jesus was seen after his death, proving that resurrection is a physical fact. If such a catalog had been created, we’d expect it to be well circulated among Jesus’ followers so that the gospel writers could include it, since they were writing decades after the fact. In reality, each gospel tells different stories – John talks about Thomas and about Jesus appearing to disciples at Lake Galilee, today’s story is from Luke, Matthew speaks of the disciples seeing Jesus on a mountain in Galilee. Mark doesn’t tell any stories about resurrection appearances until some short ones are added later. These stories aren’t a trial brief proving that resurrection happened. They ARE testimony of many of Jesus’ followers affirming that they experienced his resurrection as a reality in their lives.
Today’s story tells us that Cleopas and other person (maybe his wife?) were followers of Jesus who gave up on being in Jerusalem after the crucifixion and walked home to Emmaus. During the time they were on the road, a stranger walked with them. Hearing how sad they were that Jesus was dead, this stranger explains how Hebrew scripture predicted what happened, helping to put crucifixion into perspective for them. They don’t recognize this stranger, but since the conversation has been uplifting, when they get to their village, they invite him to stay for supper. In an unusual move, the guest takes the supper bread from the table and breaks it – acting like the host. In the movement of breaking, the two recognize Jesus and he disappears. Leaving supper on the table, they rush back to Jerusalem to tell everyone they have seen Jesus.
When I read this story, I think about all the times in a Bible study or book discussion the group starts out confused about what a passage means. One person will wonder aloud about a possible connection. Another will add something else they’ve read that seems related. A third has an “aha” moment a suggests an insight. Over time things begin to make sense and the group comes to a greater understanding. Surely this happened over and over as Jesus’ followers tried to think through what he had taught them and how they were to carry on without him as their physical leader.
I think of the many times someone has said to me that a child is just like an uncle or a grandma. How they have the same speech pattern or similar gestures. How a facial expression in a child can remind us of previous generations. These followers recognized Jesus when he broke bread. He had done that same thing every meal for several years. They saw him in the way his hands moved and he held the bread out for them to take and eat. Over the next decades as Jesus’ followers were creating communities that gathered in his name, they would eat together. They shared food as a way of sharing their lives. And they broke bread.
We continue to share bread in communion celebrations – and in potlucks and coffee hour. On Monday we’re going to celebrate Elaine Sundberg’s life and then we’re going to feed her family and friends because that’s how we care for them. Eating together connects people. We share holiday meals and special occasions with dinner for our families. Even when we don’t agree about much, there’s a deep connection found in sharing food – in breaking bread.
My Presbyterian tradition requires that when we have communion I break the bread and pour the grape juice so that you can see it happening. Does watching it happen make it more real for you? I often think of today’s story when I do those things. It’s a way of affirming that Jesus is also breaking bread with us. Some traditions believe that the bread and the juice turn into Jesus and are infused with his physical presence. I have never thought that, but I’m convinced that whenever we celebrate communion, Jesus joins us. Just as we often think of relatives who have died when we gather for family celebrations, Jesus is present in our hearts and minds and in the glue of community that connects us.
Bread was the staple food of first century Palestine. If they had nothing else, they ate bread. So connecting the presence of Jesus to the bread puts it at the very basic level of our existence. Jesus also becomes a staple for our lives.
For a while this winter I baked bread for my son’s family. They had a new baby and they needed homemade bread to continue their family tradition and to be made with less gluten than most purchased bread, so I made them loaves and buns every week. It seemed like something helpful that I could do. Bread isn’t like instant oatmeal – it doesn’t just happen in a minute. Bread is a process; you have to live with it for a while. As it mixes and rises and kneads and rises and shapes and rises you have to remember it and pay attention. I always knead the bread by hand because it seems more personal. When you’re kneading bread for ten minutes you have time to think about who will eat that bread – about who they are and how they are and how much you love them. I suspect George thinks about us when he bakes our communion bread. Bread comes with love mixed in.
I never want communion to be just a ritual we do without thinking about it. I want it to move us and change us. I want it to connect us. I always give you a big piece of bread so it takes you a while to eat it. I want it to slow you down. I want it to fill you up – physically and spiritually.
Whenever I can, I break your bread off the loaf while you watch. The piece you get is a part of the whole. I want you to feel that deep within.
I watch as you care for each other as you wait in line. You make sure everyone who wants to participate gets to. You connect with the people who choose to watch from the pews. Communion is something we do because followers of Jesus have done it or centuries – it connects us to our heritage. It’s also something we do because it connects us to each other and to the people who share our time, wherever they live. In Russia visitors are welcomed with bread and salt. Bread helps us reach out to include new folks and make them part of the family. While I respect those who choose not to join in communion, I’m always glad when those folks change their minds. We used to examine new members carefully to be sure that they fully understood communion before they participated. We excluded children until they were confirmed members. Then for a while we taught classes so they’d get communion right when they joined in. That always confused me. Communion means so much more than we can ever list or teach. It changes over our lifetimes and each time we participate. I feel like the most authentic participation is the young child who says, “I want some of that” or my granddaughter who doesn’t participate because she doesn’t like bread. Communion is family dinner – it has layers of meaning. Everyone is welcome at the table, however they wish to be.