Meeting Jesus in Unexpected Places

Written by Ed Kauffman

Meeting Jesus in Unexpected Places

May 8, 2011

Ed Kauffman

 

Several years ago I was visiting the St. Paul Mennonite Fellowship in St. Paul, MN, a congregation made up of sincere Christians, both straight and gay.  As I entered the meeting, a man greeted me warmly and said, “You probably don’t recognize me, do you?”  And I had to admit that I didn’t.  Yet when he said his name I knew instantly who he was.  He had been a member of the congregation I had pastored more than 10 years previously and had been actively involved, along with his wife and two sons. 

 

Now he was in a different context, a different relationship, and meeting him was totally unexpected.  I hadn’t recognized him and don’t really know how long it would have taken had he not introduced himself.  Probably all of us have had those kinds of experiences.

 

So it is little wonder that those two disciples, Cleopas and his friend, walking along the road to Emmaus didn’t recognize Jesus.  After all, they were not expecting to see him.  We know little about them, but they were undoubtedly among those who had hoped that Jesus would prove to be their deliverer.  Perhaps they were among those who had lined the streets earlier shouting, “Hosanna.”  Indeed, they acknowledge that dream.  “We had hoped that he was the one who was going to redeem Israel. “  (v. 21)  But Jesus had disappointed them, and had been killed.  Where they were expecting a powerful political takeover, Jesus had refused to call on the legions of angels to defend himself. 

 

And so they were returning home, disappointed and resigned to try and make sense of it all.  As one commentator put it:

 

It's a text that takes people on the road, going home, back to ordinary life, who are saddened that their greatest hopes have not come to pass.  In spite of all they knew, all the stories they could rehearse, in spite of the witness of others, they simply had not seen Jesus--nor had anyone else they knew.  The prophecies of Jesus and hope of redemption grew cold and were not able to sustain them any longer.  They began to suspect that the whole thing had been a mistake, a worthy hope and one unlikely ever to be realized.  For them, Good Friday had not been Good.  Time had passed and there was no change, no resurrection, no Jesus. 

 

Oh yes, there was the report of the women, but as is generally the case both then and even sometimes now, the women were treated with some skepticism.  It had been confirmed by some more reliable sources- some of the men- but they hadn’t seen the angel or Jesus, so it was hard to tell if there was any truth to the matter or not.  As is often the case, words alone don’t convince. 

 

We’ve seen that this past week as the reports of the killing of Osama bin Laden have been made public.  For some, at least, saying it happened isn’t enough.  They want proof.  They need pictures, or the body, or something tangible.  Unfortunately, sometimes even that isn’t enough for some people. 

 

So it was with these two disciples.  They had heard the report of the women, probably seen as the least reliable source.  The report of the empty tomb had been confirmed by some others “who were with us”, but they hadn’t seen any confirming evidence.  And even when Jesus shows them in Scripture all the passages that speak about him, presumable all those passages that show him as the one who was to suffer, they still did not recognize who he was – either literally or figuratively. 

 

That is, they didn’t recognize that it was Jesus walking with them, nor did they recognize that the image of Jesus as the conquering hero riding in on the white horse of victory, which they still carried with them, was not the right image. “How foolish you are and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have declared. Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things, and then enter into his glory?”  (vv.25-26)   No matter how much was explained, or how skillfully the Scriptures were used, they still didn’t get it.

 

It was only when they sat down and participated in that most common of practices, eating together, that they recognized this stranger.  Now this act of Jesus has often been associated with Jesus’ breaking the bread at the last supper, but we have no indication that Cleopas and his companion were there.  And while I think there are certainly some images that can be drawn from that analogy, I think it is just as valid to see in this account a recognition that we most often encounter Jesus, and recognize him, in the commonplace, everyday activities of life.  It’s called incarnation- making Jesus real and present.

 

And it is just as true today as it was for Cleopas and his companion.  Jesus walks among us and alongside us every day.  Jesus walks in our neighbourhood and city, but most people don’t recognize him.  And we can preach at them all we want, recite Scripture and try to teach them about Jesus, but most of them still won’t recognize him.

 

It will only be as we make Jesus incarnate among them that people will come to see Jesus among them.  It is as we break bread with people, engaging them in the commonplace activities of life, that people will see Jesus.  It will only be as we accept people’s hospitality and break bread with them that they will come to understand that Jesus walks with them.  Notice Jesus didn’t say, “Let’s go into the church here and I’ll show you what I’m all about.”  No, he accepted their invitation to join them at their meal, and then through a simple gesture opened their eyes.

 

One of the fallacies of the church today is that we have to persuade people about Jesus.  But my experience, both personally and among the congregations that I have worked with, is that people see Jesus and come to know Jesus most often in those unexpected places, by the actions of believers who may not even recognize what they are doing.  It’s interesting to me that many of the new churches that are springing up, which focus on “following Jesus”, make a meal a part of each gathering, much as the early church did.

 

In a recent book by Alan and Eleanor Kreider called Worship and Mission After Christendom, published by Herald Press, they note how the early church gathered people together around a meal and then engaged in conversation about their faith, often at some point reenacting Jesus breaking bread and sharing the cup.  In that, common, everyday practice of sharing a meal together, they encountered Jesus.  And when others were invited, they too encountered Jesus in that most unexpected place.

 

As we began this service we sang, “Jesus, stand among us, in your risen power.”  And when I come to church I hope to meet Jesus here among us.  In fact I expect it.  But I also anticipate that I will meet Jesus in some unexpected places.  Perhaps it will be in someone’s living room, or around someone’s table.  Perhaps it will be at the local park, or even in a local pub.  And one of the ways Jesus will be present there is if we take him there with us, for unless we invite him along, others there will never meet Jesus. 

 

When Cleopas and the other disciple returned to Jerusalem, they found that others had also encountered the risen Christ, and they shared their encounter as well.  And Luke’s description is, I think, most telling. “They told what had happened on the road, and how he had been made known to them in the breaking of the bread.”  (v.35)  As we practice hospitality, among ourselves, inviting others in, and accepting the hospitality of others, we too will find Jesus being made known among us.