Blessings, Benedictions and Baptists Learning Weal over Woe: Trinity Sunday 2015

        On some level, when churches go through their seasons of ministry and mission, as times and circumstances change and challenge within the congregation and in the community around them, the gathering of believers have the same opportunity as the early churches of the New Testament times. While churches are filled with people (which means the whole range of what it means to be human is on display, sometimes with gentleness and other times with ferocity), we are also gifted with the benediction Paul granted for Christians, then and now and yet to come.

        The last word of 2 Corinthians is a blessing: The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with all of you.

        What a great benediction! What a great “last word” from Paul, who spent much of the Corinthian correspondence dealing with more issues than most church consultants would want to handle!

       Despite the “last word” before the service ends and the “rest of your day” begins, benedictions are powerful. Sometimes, I find myself wondering what the best “last word” should be to end the service on the right note. Indeed, I may change from what I had planned to say as something (dare I say, the Spirit?) compels me to offer another word instead. The hope is to give, pronounce or impart the word that sends us out on a good note about God, our faith and the “rest of the week” we are about to enter into as we depart worship.

       The English word “benediction” itself does not come directly from Greek or Hebrew. Instead, the word is from the Latin “benedictio”, which morphed into our English word over the passage of time. “Benedictio” honors the biblical concept of blessing or sending forth on a good note, but I found the meaning of “benedictio” in Latin to be quite interesting. It means “a pronouncement of weal”.

        “Weal” is another word we do not use commonly. Hailing from the Middle English period, the word means “for the common good, or the benefit of all”. In other words, to pronounce weal is to grant a word of blessing that goes on and on, meaning that the intent of the blessing is to work equally its way out into the midst of the people. For the Corinthians, they knew woes, as they had afflicted one another with many. After slogging through the tangled knot of their issues (mountains and mole hills alike), Paul gives a good word that shapes Christian community down through the centuries, offering the Trinity’s blessings upon the faithful (yes, even those who would rather toss chairs than hold hands in fellowship!).

       I recall with gladness the experience I had with this benediction in worship while studying in England back in the Spring of 2001. Most British Baptists would end the service with gathering into a circle, joining hands together, and the minister would say, “Let us have the Baptist blessing”.  
      
       The words, of course, are not solely for Baptists, nor our own intellectual property. The words are from Paul, and somehow took on a liveliness that I missed when folks grabbed their coats and worried about the pot roast at home. The words from 2 Corinthians 13 were recited together, not just by rote or habit. People looked around the fellowship, making eye contact with one another, and together they offered the grace, love, and fellowship of the Trinity around the circle.

        Indeed, it was a pronouncement of weal to one another.

Pentecost Sunday: A Gathering of the Faithful Few or A Time to Receive the Holy Spirit?

This Pentecost Sunday, as I speak to those hardy souls who worship this weekend in the midst of the clamor of options for things "to do", I offer a word on the Spirit, who sees all of the planning and aspirations, confusion and certainties among the faithful followers of Jesus and lights a whole different kind of fire under the church. It's a day when the poor lector has to read all of those tongue twisting names of the nations and languages being suddenly spoken when the mighty Winds of the Spirit reminds them that Jesus wasn't just wanting his gospel to be preached and lived out close to home. 

This is a word for the entire world to hear, and the Spirit ensures that well above the Babel of the languages, everyone hears this good word at the same time, the same place and even in their own dialect! (Honestly, it's a reminder that the UN or even Google Translate has yet to catch up with what the Spirit did two millennia ago!)

From Acts 2 onwards, those who believe in Jesus are never the same. The Day of Pentecost is our day to remember the coming of the Holy Spirit who fills the Church with power to live in and testify to the fullness of the gospel. The Spirit descends to help the believers, still a bit dazed and confused from the events of Jesus’ death, resurrection, and subsequent ascension. From this small gathering shall come forth a movement of people, summoned for ministry and mission, aiming for the fulfillment of Christ’s parting words: “to be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”

The Day of Pentecost serves as a witness to the Church, now two thousand years later, to remember that the winds of the Spirit have yet to quiet down. To understand Pentecost, you must not speak of it as a day long ago, or of the Spirit in a manner that presumes the “work” of the Spirit is done. The Spirit summons the whole people of God to the ministry and mission of the Church, gifting each Christian and calling the many to be “Church”. With the Spirit, Pentecost is the beginning and the winds of the Spirit have yet to die down.

Recently, I read a recent spiritual memoir by Episcopal writer Sara Miles, who coordinates a major food pantry ministry out of her home congregation in San Francisco. Miles is the grand-child of American Baptist missionaries, yet in her own upbringing, she had no connection to Christianity. She shares, “I came late to Christianity, knocked upside down by a midlife conversion centered around a literal chunk of bread.” 

Her previous memoir Take This Bread is a remarkable celebration of how the Eucharist became such a transforming experience for her. She became involved in a food pantry ministry distributing hundreds of pounds of food each week, using the very sanctuary of the Church as the distribution site. The Food Pantry has become a parable for what happens when the Spirit works in the midst of the gathered people. Miles writes, “The immediacy of my conversion experience left me perhaps freakily convinced of the presence of Jesus around me. I hadn’t figured out a neat set of ‘beliefs’, but discovered a force blowing uncontrollably through the world” (Jesus Freak, HarperOne, p. xi.) 

Sara Miles’ books celebrate this unshakable belief that the Spirit is moving in the world. Unfortunately, Miles has discovered in her encounters with churches around the United States, the feeling is not readily shared. When Miles serves as a guest speaker, she notes how many clergy and laity will praise her work with the Food Pantry ministry project or the creative energy that her home congregation is known for, all while claiming that such things are not possible elsewhere, especially in their own parishes. Miles finds the claims of insufficiency disappointing to hear. “What more permission do they need?” she asks her priest. “‘Receive the Holy Spirit’ isn’t enough?” (Jesus Freak, p. 42)

“Receiving the Holy Spirit” runs throughout the Bible, imaged as seemingly “tame” concepts. Trace the presence of the Spirit in the sacred texts, and you will see the Spirit as “dove” empowers Jesus for his ministry, the Spirit as flame ignites the Church for a worldwide mission, and the Spirit as wind can be a gale force wind, bringing new life and renewal to the people of God.

In the history of the faith, Celtic Christianity has an image of the Holy Spirit quite unlike any other. The Celts described the Spirit to be like “a wild goose”: a bird that is unpredictable, chaotic, and really could shake up the fellowship if turned loose in their midst. The Spirit as “wild goose” is a good image as we sometimes talk of the Church needing change or improvement, yet we are unprepared when the Spirit works in a manner that is unpredictable, chaotic, and really shakes up the fellowship. 

I shared this “Spirit as wild goose” image awhile back with a friend, who was just about to start a new ministry position. The other day he received a “welcoming” gift from one of his new congregants. The gift was a “goose call”, sort of a wooden whistle that mimics the sound of a goose. My friend remembered our conversation about the Spirit as wild goose and started laughing. What better sign of a new ministry about to begin, in my friend’s life as well as the life of the congregation he’s about to serve as their new minister?

Book Review: How Do Clergy Learn to Say No and Live to Tell About It

From my book reviewing work with the journal "Sharing the Practice", published quarterly by the Academy of Parish Clergy:  To learn more:  http://www.apclergy.org

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Olsen, David C. and Nancy G. Devor.  Saying No to Say Yes:  Everyday Boundaries and Pastoral Excellence.   Lanham, MD:  Rowman & Littlefield, 2015.  ISBN #978-1-56699-728-7. 

 

Books abound on clergy professional boundaries, clergy self-care and burn-out awareness and church leadership texts.  The co-authors of Saying No to Say Yes contend that many approaches take at best a partial, though well-meaning look at the challenges of pastoral ministry. 

 

What is missing often is the fuller exploration of the less publicized yet everyday depletion of a pastor’s energy and wherewithal.  The pastor’s fall from professional integrity could come after years of unhealthy, poorly maintained understandings of the self.  In turn, the complex systems within even a small membership congregation can be the undoing of a minister unable to navigate and lead objectively within a church membership, which in itself is rarely a non-anxious and functional organization.  The authors emphasize “how the minister defines himself or herself within the congregational system and how the system responds” (p. 63).  

 

The book is organized into five short chapters.  In the opening chapter “The Problem with Boundaries”, the co-authors guide you through the development of clergy boundary literature and methods, highlighting the timely and “products of their time” insights of the last forty years of how the issues were understood and addressed.  Suggesting greater results and long-term health will be found by setting limits in anxious systems (i.e. churches), Olsen and Devor encourage clergy to “say ‘no’ to what depletes their health and the health of their congregation in order to say ‘yes’ to the attitudes, knowledge and skills that promote pastoral excellence and contribute to the overall health of the pastor, the pastor’s family and the congregation” (p. 20).

 

The second chapter addresses the need for “healthy selves and boundaries”.  Introducing the self-psychology work of Heinz Kohut, the authors examine what happens when we lose or blur our sense of self through over- and under-compensating for the demands on our time and energy as well as the multiple ways a congregant expects a minister to fulfill some need or role.  The authors ground ministry and the clergy with the admonition

to temper our sense of call with reality:  knowing ourselves well enough to know where our selves falter, where we need shoring up, where we are vulnerable.  Without such tempering, our calls can collude with our grandiosity.   We may see ourselves as special, as being above rules, not requiring the self-care and boundaries to protect us. (p. 34)

Conversely, some clergy find themselves at the ebb of low self-esteem, leading to other likely opportunities for depletion and a weakened sense of self (p. 35).

 

The next three chapters build on these insights, exploring issues of boundaries in anxious systems, especially when systems collide inevitably with even the most resilient, well maintained boundaries we put in place.  Anxiety in congregations often turns to scapegoating, and as I like to joke, “Clergy should shop at Target instead of being one.”  

 

The authors emphasize the importance of congregations maintaining their own equilibrium in the form of pastoral relations committees and other ways of promoting congregational communication and self-reflection.  Often, in my judicatory work, the church lay leaders can be unaware of the toxicity they themselves are taking on in the midst of a conflict or unsettled, anxious time.  Keeping a better balance between “pastor and people” will require this book to be less reading “just for pastors” and shared with more leadership.  Anxiety and how to handle it is a life skill sorely needed well beyond the sometimes pedantic, inward turned issues of a congregation. 

 

Skills to identify and regulate one’s immersion in the anxiety of a congregation is explored through brief antidotal insights from clergy dealing with cantankerous leaders and uncertain times that spring up when we seem to be at our lowest ebb.  (How many times does it seem that Advent or even Holy Week is suddenly when the unanticipated demands escalate on a pastor?)  The benefits of a robust level of emotional intelligence are recommended, though I wish there could have been more time spent on this by the authors.  (Perhaps a future text on the subject waits.)

 

Later chapters address the pastoral excellence movement fostered by the Lilly Foundation over a decade ago.   Clergy collegiality groups, special emphasis programs at leading divinity schools and seminaries and a bevy of books on related subjects have flowered out of such concern.  Yet, for many clergy and churches, these learnings are still being discovered, let alone integrated into the life of the church.   For example, a few years ago, I shared a few pages of one such book with my former church’s pastoral relations committee.  None of the committee members had read the short excerpt, which was quite demoralizing for me at the time.  Looking back, I realize now that cultivating pastoral excellence is indeed like gardening in that I had not really grasped some of the learnings yet and made them my own practice and habits.  In my naiveté, I had not understood the longer conversation and process that needed to be developed for anything approaching what that book’s authors or even this book’s authors recommended.

 

Each chapter ends with excellent reflection questions that I recommend are slowly considered, especially in private and group reflection.  Also, two appendices are offered to suggest ways for a workshop to be presented around the book’s findings and tips for organizing a clergy collegiality group. Olsen and Devor recommend that an ecumenically diverse group with a gifted facilitator inform the model for such an undertaking.  Certainly, working with colleagues who also do not have similar polity or judicatory connections with one another may invite deeper reflection as your sense of true “peerage” with one another is not complicated by working alongside pastors from your own fold. The bibliography is likewise a helpful guide to future reading and growth in understanding elements of Olsen/Devor’s engagement of varied sources.

 

Olsen and Devor explore these issues with long careers in service to churches and pastors as therapists and clergy themselves.  They write with a profound understanding of what it’s like “in the trenches” while engaging in an exploration of the findings of psychology, systems theory and recent writings on pastoral excellence.  Olsen serves as Executive Director of the Samaritan Counseling Center of the Capital Region (Schenectady, New York) and Devor is senior staff psychologist at the Danielsen Institute at Boston University.  Both are frequent presenters on these issues for clergy groups and judicatories.

The Tall Order

In the midst of John's gospel we read these words of Jesus (John 15:9-17):

As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love.

If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and abide in his love. I have said these things to you so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete.

This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. 13No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.

You are my friends if you do what I command you. I do not call you servants any longer, because the servant does not know what the master is doing; but I have called you friends, because I have made known to you everything that I have heard from my Father. 16You did not choose me but I chose you. And I appointed you to go and bear fruit, fruit that will last, so that the Father will give you whatever you ask him in my name.

I am giving you these commands so that you may love one another.

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In the history of Christianity, one could suggest such a gospel teaching as noted above helps us understand when the Church was about following Jesus and when it got off track following itself.  

I read this text from John 15 and marvel at its beauty, a wonderful example of John's Gospel waxing eloquent.  As I work with pastors and church leaders and recall my own upbringing and pastoral ministry within congregations, I also realize how this commandment to "love one another as I have loved you" really lays bare the memories of church meetings where "passive aggressive behavior" was more the watch word.   Heavens, I remember coming home from denominational meetings years ago, and it would take me a few days to feel sufficiently recovered from some of the agendas vying for attention while the official agenda gamely tried to keep us about the ministry and mission of the gathered people.  

Such experiences remind me to be in the midst of the people, yet to try as best as I can, to be the one calling us back to the gentler voice of Jesus, whose mercy is far greater, whose justice far fairer, and whose patience certainly outlasts my--and our--own.  To love one another is hard enough.  To love one another as Christ loves us....that's a tall order!

"You did not choose me, but I chose you.  And I appointed you to go and bear fruit, fruit that will last...."    As I hear these words, again with the fullness of John's gospel, celebrating the abundance of Christ, the Bread of Life, the Vine making branches out of our otherwise bramble, I also remember that in the midst of the church's day to day struggle with bills and anxieties, tempest in a teapot moments and sometimes mystifying agility in making mole hills seem far more like mountains, Jesus did call each of us, gently by our name as a shepherd knows his sheep.  

John's gospel is often considered ethereal, up in the heavens in its lofty language rather than earthy and plainspoken like the other three Gospels.  Yet I find myself back in John's pages as I grow deeper in my faith, finding certain treasure in its languid passages and turns of phrase.  While John's gospel has a negative history of interpretation justifying anti-Semitic practices (i.e. I still cringe even with the NRSV's unexplained, without caveat use of the phrase "the Jews"), I take great stock in the words of Jesus as told herein, a reminder that in the midst of the world and its complexities, Jesus became flesh, dwelled among us and taught us (if we'd only listen) to the just, abundant and lively way of the Gospel.

Countries and Communities in Crisis: What Is Our Role?

I grew up in Kansas with the season for tornadoes to thunder across the prairie and communities, particularly those unfortunately located in what is called "Tornado Alley".  While I have not personally been in the midst of a tornado, part of my extended family lost their long-time home a few years ago when Joplin, MO, had a terrible storm.  The closest I have come to being in the midst of a disaster was the time I served in Vermont when Hurricane Irene did some significant damage to local communities, and I helped with whatever resources and connections I could help make, especially through the local interfaith community's efforts.

One realization (epiphany?) that I had early on in my upbringing was the connection between the crisis at hand and the faithful helping hands that arrived via denominational and faith-related responses.   The ABC/Central Region had a dedicated group of volunteers at the ready with their Disaster Response trailer and a phone tree ready to mobilize people to meet the needs of whatever Kansas community found itself picking up the pieces by daybreak.  I learned early on that there was a direct connection between the appeal to support "One Great Hour of Sharing" and the capacity for assistance its funding and partnerships could bring to a town dealing with sudden challenge.

As I became a pastor and helped promote OGHS in the churches I served, I told my Kansas, then Vermont and now New York fellow American Baptists of the great good possible by offering their support to OGHS in the usual time of June/July as well as whenever the request came from the denomination/Region office for special designated giving.   I knew early on that the minute after the disaster, the response was already being formulated and then mobilized by great volunteers, supported by denominational and ecumenical partners.

As it seems to happen more than I care to admit, the headlines of late have been laden with deeply grieving news.  The tumult in Baltimore and the devastation of earthquake and aftershocks befalling Nepal and neighboring countries keep our news coverage focused grimly on both "US" and "world" coverage more than usual.  (The typical complaint, of course, is quite apt that if you want to know what's really going on, you may have to depend on news sources beyond US-produced broadcast and cable channel journalism.)  
In both situations, I can find a good word of affirmation for the role of non-profits, non-governmental organizations (NGOs) and religious communities.  While infrastructure was leveled in Katmandu and civil unrest in Maryland brought to the surface long simmering distrust, the news stories came and will continue to bear witness to the determination of persons and organizations to step into the breach and provide compassion, care and community.  

American Baptists have issued a call for donations designated for Nepali earthquake relief.  With a simple online donation (via www.abc-usa.org) or through your local church offering plate (designate checks and envelopes specifically OGHS--Nepal), a congregant in upstate New York can support the efforts through ABCUSA and its partners.  Press release:   http://www.abc-usa.org/2015/04/25/american-baptist-churches-lift-nepal-earthquake-victims-in-prayer/ 

A special OGHS appeal bulletin insert is now available:   http://www.abc-usa.org/2015/04/30/nepal-earthquake-new-oghs-bulletin-inserts-available-for-download/

The good word from Dr. Roy Medley, ABCUSA General Secretary:  “In tragedies such as this, our faith calls us to compassion and solidarity with those who have suffered loss.  Our networks of relationship through the Baptist World Alliance and Church World Service offer us channels for relief efforts. Gifts can be given through ABC One Great Hour of Sharing, earmarked for the Nepal earthquake.”

National Public Radio offers a helpful resource about ensuring your donation is handled by an organization that is well suited to meet disaster response.  The article also notes the common mistakes made by donors with the best of intentions but the least realization of what type of "help" actually helps!   http://www.npr.org/blogs/goatsandsoda/2015/04/28/402842890/what-you-need-to-know-before-donating-to-earthquake-relief-for-Nepal

Likewise, the efforts of many organizations are helping Baltimore in its time of need.  Just as the Ferguson, MO, area libraries did so remarkably in recent months, the Baltimore Public Library system is opening its doors and staying open late to provide open space for persons in need of care, shelter and support.   http://www.pbs.org/newshour/rundown/amidst-protests-baltimore-libraries-stay-open-provide-community-support/

Rev. Dr. James Perkins, President of the Progressive National Baptist Convention, Inc., offered a word on the unrest in Baltimore.   Recalling the influence of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., the PNBC leader advocates for a return to the principles of non-violence and the need to train a new generation about the difference between anger and turning to violence.  Commentary:   http://baptistnews.com/culture/social-issues/item/30038-pnbc-head-says-anger-ok-violence-not

As part of the response, area clergy are notably marching in the midst of the crowds, providing a witness for peace and calm.   An article by the Christian Science Monitor notes that the Baltimore clergy are no strangers to involvement with community issues regarding law enforcement.  Their witness has been going on longer than the cameras captured and continues well beyond the news cycle shifting its attention away.   http://www.csmonitor.com/Commentary/the-monitors-view/2015/0428/For-Baltimore-post-riots-a-role-for-clergy

A good word from the ABCNYS Region President, the Rev. Dr. Greg Johnson sums things well:  "Pray with me as we intercede on behalf of lives that have been shaken and shattered by these events.  Let us pray for an expeditious recovery and that when social media has found some other interest story that the hearts of American Baptists and Americans not so quickly move on.  More can be done".  (Region Notes, 4/30/2015)

Appreciating A Riveting Icon

This week brought news of the death of Mary Doyle Keefe, a 92 year old woman living in Simsbury, CT.

Keefe's name may not be instantly recognizable, but she contributed as a life model to an iconic image in 20th-century US history.

A 19 year old telephone operator, Keefe agreed to model for Norman Rockwell during his years living in southwestern Vermont.   The finished portrait appeared on the cover of The Saturday Evening Post, a publication widely read in that era.  Appropriately, the cover art appeared on the Memorial Day issue for May 29, 1943.  The original painting was sold by Sotheby's in 2002 to a privately held collection.

Rockwell's art is virtually synonymous with the magazine.  His rendering of Keefe as the hardworking, industrious woman stepping up during the height of WWII celebrates as much as it demonstrates the smashing of long-held gender bias about what is really the scope of "woman's work".   

The Rockwell image is often confused with another famous image, celebrating much the same spirit and tenacity.  Arguably this other image ("We Can Do It!", rendered by J. Howard Miller and commissioned by the Westinghouse Company for propaganda purposes) has far much pop culture use, and some folks confused the Rockwell/Keefe image with the "We Can Do It!" one.

The Miller/Westinghouse image appears in posters, refrigerator magnets and adorns the walls of people born long after WWII who take inspiration from the courage, strength and determination exuding from the "can do" spirit of its subject.  This image actually predates the Rockwell image by a year, and certainly images of "Rosie the Riveter" abound in multiple forms.   (See the article summary on Wikipedia via:  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rosie_the_Riveter). 

The women who embodied the "Rosie the Riveter" experience were largely European American women.  Racial/ethnic minority women were not as able to find this work, due to the discriminatory practices of the time.  After WWII, many of the real life "Rosies" found that their jobs were finished, now that men were home from war, looking for work again.

Today, Rosie the Riveter remains a symbol of women's contributions and potential (even if intermittently recognized).  Our society still encodes overt and covert ways of promoting gender roles that inhibit more than empower.  The economic impact of women earning often only 70% of what men would earn in the same position is deeply scandalous and unsettling. 

So we must continue to lift up images like the one of Mary Doyle Keefe, as decades later, Rockwell's rendering of her still resounds as a stirring image of strength and fortitude.  Keefe gave generations and will continue to give to generations yet to come a powerful image of what women can do in the midst of a world that needs the fullness of their gifts, talents and tenacity.

Rest in peace, Mary Doyle Keefe.  Rosie's still with us.  AMEN.

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A news story covering Keefe's life:  http://www.cnn.com/2015/04/23/living/rosie-the-riveter-dies/

Keefe's time with Rockwell was brief.  She was photographed in the pose by one of Rockwell's assistants.  She earned just a few dollars for her time.  A number of "Rockwell life models" were sourced from around the area where Rockwell lived at the time (Arlington, Vermont), though understandably, most of these models are now quite elderly or have passed away in recent years.  A reunion is sometimes held for the life models to return to Arlington on occasion.  During my years in Vermont, I met an African American woman who appeared as a child along with her brother in the famous Rockwell "United Nations" mural.  Here's a fascinating look at the conservation efforts to keep Rockwell's art conserved for future generations:  http://www.artbabble.org/video/nrm/conserving-norman-rockwells-united-nations.

Pilgrims on the Way (Luke 24)

Pilgrims. For some of us it invokes images of the founding of this country, or at least the people with the funny hats with buckles on them. Pilgrims. It’s a good Christian word that describes those who are on a journey for religious purposes, usually devotional in nature. Pilgrims. Through the ages, Christians have trod to various holy places: the Catholic goes to Rome, the Episcopal go to Canterbury Cathedral, and the Baptists go to wherever the potluck is. (No, seriously, as a congregational movement, we have no sacred site that inspires pilgrimage on the same level Perhaps for American Baptists; we might go to Valley Forge, Pennsylvania, where the denomination’s main mission center is located. It’s a circular building, forever known as “the Holy Doughnut,” though it’s debatable how well a pilgrimage might go as you’re always walking in circles.)

Kerry and I have been to Rome and to Canterbury Cathedral (no; we weren’t church shopping!). One of the things that impressed me about Canterbury was the long flight of steps into the building. Well, it was impressive until I tried to walk up them. For years turned to decades and centuries, this old set of steps has been walked by generations of the faithful. Thus, the stone of the steps had started to wear a groove in the steps, a smooth, nearly polished surface that spoke well of the historic devotion but nearly dangerous to walk on nowadays. I gripped the railings at the side for dear life!

The disciples who walked to Emmaus were gripping the railings when Jesus found them. They were leaving Jerusalem with heavy hearts and did not know how to journey on. In the biblical narratives, there are affirmations of how great it is to travel towards Jerusalem, where all of the religious hope is centered in the worldview of the scriptures. Festivals, sacrifices, great celebration. Jerusalem was a place as much in the heart as it was on the map.

And yet, here are two pilgrims traveling AWAY from Jerusalem. As far as they were concerned, Jesus was killed by the powers that be. They haven’t picked up a water bottle for the last leg of the journey; they’ve thrown in the towel.

Yet, this stranger encountered on the road is the Lord himself that they mourn. As Luke notes, they did not see him, for “their eyes were kept from recognizing him.” That’s an odd little statement. Jesus is standing there right in front of them, and yet they do not see him. It sounds puzzling, yet it is not a physical ailment, but one more of the heart. When they tell “this stranger” about Jesus, this is what they say: “The things about Jesus of Nazareth, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, and how our chief priests and leaders handed him over to be condemned to death and crucified him. But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel.”

At first, one might take these particular words and see the beginnings of a confession of faith. Christians throughout the centuries have taken words to shape their faith and give praise to God, and some of the hopes held by the Emmaus disciples might be the beginnings of a pattern to help shape a confessional statement: Jesus as a prophet, redeemer of Israel, yet in the midst of all these words, there’s an impasse when they get to the notion of the crucifixion. The disciples speak to Jesus’ teachings and acts, yet they find an impasse at the cross. They have heard of the women who come from the tomb proclaiming the resurrection (and in Luke’s Gospel, these women in his telling “get it” atthe outset and go forward proclaiming—yes, it’s different than Mark’s ending, but then again, this is Luke’s story, so we live in the tension of four Gospels that nonetheless tell the story differently). They have heard the story, yet they have not made the connection with what really matters. They have not yet seen the risen Christ with their eyes or their hearts!

Pilgrims. One might wonder why somebody would take a week off from work, get in the car or board a plane, and just go walking towards a place that is considered sacred. What brings some people to church? In the ancient cathedrals of Europe, there’s never a quiet moment in the tourist season. People flock to see the ancient treasures, take pictures, buy a postcard in the gift shop, but few are spotted lighting a candle or pausing in the summer’s day for a time of prayer.

There are many people who pass by a church, yet they never realize that they are on holy ground. Nora Gallagher, a religious writer that I like, spoke of being “outside” the church for many years, until she went to a place where she felt something different. Her wonderful line is that she came to the church “as a tourist, but stayed a pilgrim.” Over time, her time in church became less of attendance and became participation, and her faith less a matter of inquiry and more of belief. The beauty of her writing is not skill but of depth: the depth of belief and experience growing in the faith in the care of a congregation that did likewise. Jesus takes these disciples to task and begins a time of “bible study” while walking alongside them. He guides them through the texts that speak of what God had in mind through the patriarchs, prophets, and other writings. Jesus walks them through these narratives so that when they have made the trip, they will see the Savior who weaves all of these threads together.

When I was in seminary, I helped with a congregation in transition. They had endured a nasty church split, and the folks who “left” formed a separate congregation. The immediate problem, however, was the fact that they had no place to worship in. They were fortunate to find an old church that had been turned in a community outreach center. The current occupants had kept the pews, pulpits, and the stained glass, so it was quite a good rental opportunity. However, as the church folks settled, they realized that they were missing more than (literally!) a roof over their head. They had to create and recreate a number of things that they didn’t realize one took for granted, including curriculum. How could they teach the young children without what they used to have? I sat in on a Christian education meeting where they wondered what direction to go.

I suggested that they could do something without spending any money. The congregation had these beautiful stained glass windows with a bible story in each one. And so the next Sunday, the children got led around the sanctuary of this old church, the stories of Adam and Eve in the Garden, Noah’s Ark (a crowd pleaser for the tots), Abraham being called to sacrifice Isaac (not a crowd pleaser for the tots!). Moses on the mountain with the two tablets, and so forth. As they rounded the sanctuary, the kids were asked who this person was in the last stained glass. They said, “Jesus!”

That’s the sort of work that Jesus did on the road to Emmaus, building up the knowledge among those who needed to be acquainted with the texts that led them to this point on the road to Emmaus. It’s drawing close to evening by this point, and the disciples invite him to stay for dinner. Jesus consents, though he is ready to go on the way. (Another sly Gospel shorthand: if the disciples cannot “see” Jesus, they also cannot go “on the way” with Jesus either!) They gather at table and have a simple meal. It’s when Jesus breaks bread that these disciples finally “see” Jesus.

For those perplexed why food and not words get the message across finally, read Luke and its companion, the Book of Acts. There is a great deal of eating that happens in these two books. There are scholarly books that trace the importance in Luke/Acts of the Christians and their meals, because in the breaking of bread, something so simple, the abundance of God becomes clear. In particular, recollect how Jesus breaks bread in the Last Supper, and notice the repetition here at Emmaus: Jesus takes bread, gives thanks, breaks it, and gives it to them. In the Last Supper, Jesus foretells of his broken body in the symbolism of the last supper. In the Emmaus meal, the same words and actions are used. And over in Acts, when the early Christians break bread as part of their prayers, proclamation, and sharing in common, they call it not “suppertime” but “Church.” And when it happens at that table in Emmaus, it’s not just a meal. It’s “belief!”

“Were our hearts not burning eagerly within us?” these disciples ask. This experience of the risen Lord prompts them to get up from their table and head back to Jerusalem. They went home despondent, and now they run back to Jerusalem with the news.

Pilgrims. You go to a church service, and you see them out there in the pews at worship. They might light a candle, read the pew Bible, or sit or kneel in prayer. They come in all shapes and sizes, all walks of life. But there’s one thing that sets them apart from the tourists.

What is it that does that? They have seen the Lord.