Is that You Jesus?

Is that You Jesus?

This Sunday in the Church Year we often read “On the Road to Emmaus”; the story of Jesus walking with yet unbeknownst to his disciples. He asks what they are talking about. They hasten to tell him the story; “Are you the only one in Jerusalem who doesn’t know what’s been going on?”  They tell the stranger their amazing story. When they stop for supper Jesus gives thanks, breaks bread and then they realize, this is Jesus. Suddenly he vanishes. In the fullness of time an even fuller recognition dawns upon them that Christ often appears in a stranger’s presence.

Look around you, day in day out, here in this sacred space, or out there in that sacred space; at work, at school, at home and out and about running errands. If you take a moment you may recognize that Christ is present in friend and stranger alike in some extraordinary and in some very ordinary moments. 

“Be known to us in the breaking of the bread. Jesus, open the eyes of our faith!” today’s Collect invites us to pray. So too in in today’s Gospel Jesus is known to his disciples in the eating of a piece of broiled fish. Then he opened their minds to understand. 

There is symbolism in sharing a meal, as sociologists tell us. A study at UCLA shows; “In every society, food is highly symbolic, in the sense that members imbue particular kinds and qualities of food with sentimental, moral, religious, and health-related meanings.” This and other studies show that sharing a meal changes relationships qualitatively. Go to dinner with somebody you care about and the bond between you changes, deepens. Jesus knew this obviously, when he broke bread with us. 

The Eucharist then is essentially missional in nature to Jesus. As the Gospel says as they eat the Body and Blood; “Go forward and tell the whole world the good news about repentance and forgiveness, beginning right here” in Haverhill and then to all nations. The word liturgy in the ancient Graeco-Roman world means “public service” like road building or bridge building. We’ve got work to do to proclaim the Gospel right here, right now! This is our Liturgy; our Public Service.

And since the Lectionary does not tell the Emmaus story today, I’d like to tell you another story. It has a contemporary ring to it because it deals with a very current reality; the epidemic of depression. Depression is what my Spiritual Director calls; “The common cold; or the influenza outbreak of the Modern World.”

St. Francis and Brother Leo; I love the story and it goes like this;

One day Saint Francis and brother Leo were walking down the road. Noticing Leo was depressed, Francis turned and asked, “Leo, do you know what it means to be pure of heart?”

“Of course. It means to have no sins, faults or weaknesses to reproach myself for.”

“Ah,” said Francis, “now I understand why you're sad. We will always have something to reproach ourselves for.”

“Right,” said Leo. “That's why I despair of ever arriving at purity of heart.”

“Leo, listen carefully to me. Don't be so preoccupied with the purity of your heart. Turn and look at Jesus. Admire Him. Rejoice that He is who He is—your Brother, your Friend, your Lord and Savior. That, dear brother, is what it means to be pure of heart. And once you've turned to Jesus, don't turn back and look at yourself. Don't wonder where you stand with Jesus.”

“The sadness of not being perfect, the discovery that you really are sinful, is a feeling much too human, even borders on idolatry. Focus your vision outside yourself, on the beauty, graciousness and compassion of Jesus Christ. The pure of heart praise Him from sunrise to sundown.”

“Even when they feel broken, feeble, distracted, insecure and uncertain, they are able to release it into His peace. A heart like that is stripped and filled-stripped of self and filled with the fullness of God. It is enough that Jesus is Lord.”

After a long pause, Leo said, “Still, Francis, the Lord demands our effort and fidelity.”

"No doubt about that,” replied Francis. “But holiness is not a personal achievement. It's an emptiness you discover in yourself. Instead of resenting it, you accept it and it becomes the free space where Jesus can create anew. To cry out, ‘You alone are the Holy One, you alone are the Lord,' that is what it means to be pure of heart. And it doesn't come by your Herculean efforts and threadbare resolutions.”

“Then how?” asked Leo.

“Simply hoard nothing to yourself; sweep the house clean. Sweep out even the attic, even the nagging, painful consciousness of your past. Accept being shipwrecked. Renounce everything that is heavy, even the weight of your sins. See only the compassion, the infinite patience and the tender love of Christ. Jesus is Lord. That suffices. Your guilt and reproach disappear into the nothingness of non-attention. You are no longer aware of yourself, like the sparrow aloft and free in the azure sky. Even the desire for holiness is transformed into a pure and simple desire for Jesus.”

Leo listened gravely as he walked along beside Francis. Step by step he felt his heart grow lighter as a profound peace flooded his soul ( a story from Brennan Manning).

Yes. Exactly. Peace. 

This is what Jesus said to us in his Risen power; “Peace be with you.” Peace, the Peace that passes all understanding. It is no further away than turning to him in every fear, anxiety, and preoccupation of your life.

I will confess to you a certain agitation of spirit whenever we launch airstrikes in a foreign land. Naturally, the risk of military escalation is always present. Naturally, I am anxious and preoccupied with the prospect of further conflict. Likewise in our political life. The failure of civil discourse and loss of the art of conversation concerns me. 

I feel much like the Psalmist in today’s Psalm; 

“On that we might see better times!” 

Still, notice how the Psalmist deals with this universal lamentation as the prayer continues into the very next verse?

“Lift up the light of your countenance upon us, O Lord.

7 You have put gladness in my heart, *

more than when grain and wine and oil increase.

8 I lie down in peace; at once I fall asleep; *

for only you, Lord, make me dwell in safety.” ~Psalm 4

You see, turn to this Mighty God and find rest for your souls, “for my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” (From Matthew 11:28-30)

Thankfully we have one another to share our hearts concerns and love, and more thankfully still we can turn to Jesus and come to this altar rail and receive him into our eucharistic family life. Here Jesus becomes known to us in the breaking of the bread. Here we become one in our diversity of life; whoever you are, wherever and whenever you are from. Here we meet and we become one with each other and one with Jesus at this altar rail. 

Look at the extraordinary claims John makes in today’s Epistle. “See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called children of God; and that is what we are… Beloved, we are God's children now” This is what Leo was just coming to understand. Sin is lifted away the more we live into the life that is Jesus the Risen Christ. John explains the reality of redemption in this way; “Everyone who commits sin is guilty of lawlessness; sin is lawlessness. You know that he was revealed to take away sins, and in him there is no sin. No one who abides in him sins”.

The sin is wiped away and so is all the guilt…but remember this is not your doing or your achievement. Jesus did all that. The love of God does all that. Live your lives there and you will be freed from the power of sin’s merciless, depressing, grasp. Like Leo…you will come to discover this deep and abiding joy; 

“Leo listened gravely as he walked along beside Francis. Step by step he felt his heart grow lighter as a profound peace flooded his soul.”

And so may it be for us all, Amen.

In the Name of God, the Most Holy, Undivided and Everlasting Trinity. Amen.

Fr Paul.