When I was at my continuing education in Colorado one of my colleagues said that she had visited Chicago to see the painting, The Michelangelo Caravaggio “Supper at Emmaus” which was on loan from The National Gallery in London to The Art Institute of Chicago. I didn’t get an opportunity to see it, but she shared a devotion about the painting. And so out of curiosity I checked it out on the web, and afterwards wished I had make the trek to Chicago to see it in person. I love any connection to the story in the gospel of Luke. The Road to Emmaus in Luke Chapter 24 is one of my favorite stories in the Bible, and I am continually drawn in to new ways of looking at the same story.
So I immediately looked at a painting of it. And if you look at the painting, there’s the calm, peaceful countenance of Jesus at the center, his eyes serenely closed, his right hand extended in blessing. And I love the different reactions of the three sitting at table with Jesus. For the guy standing behind him, everything is reduced to a profound sense of wonder. The guy seated across from Jesus leans forward trying to believe the unbelievable, ready to reach across the table to verify with his hand what his eyes are telling him. The guy seated at the side of the table is retelling the story with his wild, broad gesticulating as if in the retelling it will make more sense.
The one detail that grabbed my friend and the so the thing that I fixated upon was the dish teetering on the edge of the table. It looked to me like the artist was inviting the seer to wonder, “Is the dish going to hold or fall of the edge?” One little bump on the table and it goes crashing to the floor. Maybe it’s a visible sign of the tension still in the hearts and minds of those disciples. Was the Jesus sitting across the table real? Was the story he told them really true? Those questions and that tension are palpable in their postures and gestures. I can only imagine how great the tension must have been when shortly after the moment captured in the painting Jesus vanished from their sight.
I think about that tension as I reflect on the summer of faith of our congregation. There have been moments of extraordinary clarity, when God’s presence and God’s goodness are so real I can reach out and touch God’s wounded hands. And I experience moments when I wonder whether any of it is true, when I feel acutely God’s absence. In those moments, I wonder if it will all hold together. Or will it go crashing to the floor? Is the resurrection life that Jesus promises more than just wishful thinking?
Luke tells us that after Jesus disappeared, their hearts were burning within them, as if he became more real in his absence than in his presence.
I have my own version of Cleopas and his companions. They accompany me on the road with the risen Christ, who, by the way, is there whether we recognize him or not. Sometimes the road is only 7 miles; sometimes it feels like a lot longer. I’m always grateful not to have to walk the road alone. There have been experiences this summer where companions have held me up with their excitement at seeing the risen Christ, telling me how their hearts burn within them, even when whatever it is that I possess feels more like a flicker than a flame.
I don’t very often experience my faith with that kind of sharp clarity, with a burning flame. My experience is more like Paul’s metaphor of seeing through a glass dimly. More like a dish teetering on the edge of the table and about to fall off. Why is that, I sometimes wonder. A function of temperament? Personal defect? Not trying hard enough? I never come up with an answer.
Which makes me all the more grateful for those with burning hearts. My fellow pilgrims and their witness are often the proof of the presence of the risen Christ. I’m grateful that my faith is not just a me and Jesus thing. My fellow travelers have seen the risen Christ, and that is enough encouragement to keep walking. And hopefully it is for you too. As you finish your summer trips and gatherings, that your faith is reignited by the faith of others you have surrounded yourself with this summer.
Blessings,
Pastor Holly
