Everything Belongs

Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him; and he vanished from their sight. They said to each other, “Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?” Luke 24:31-32

The gospels give us only a handful of stories of the risen Jesus appearing to his friends and followers, but each one is rich with mystery, longing, and hope. The most out of the ordinary details—angels in white at an empty tomb, an expected encounter with Jesus in a locked room—pair with things quite ordinary and relatable. Looking for something after a loss, hunkering down in fear, telling and retelling a story in our shock that these things could be.

Luke offers a little of each, in his story along the road out of Jerusalem toward Emmaus, as followers of his talk over the death they have just witnessed, trying to make sense of what’s next. That pattern is familiar to most of us, seeking understanding and expressing our dismay after life has upended our expectations with grief or disruption.

Jesus joins the traveling group, unrecognized by others. He asks questions that allow them to share their lament. He speaks to them about the hope and promise for renewal and redemption that are found in scripture and the pattern of his life, death, and resurrection. He helps them place their lament within that context. Later, as he blesses and breaks bread with them, they will glimpse the reality of Jesus’s presence.     

What a profound gift to receive, to imagine that even this thing I am suffering, the losses my community is experiencing, have a place within God’s redeeming purposes. The presence of Jesus may not be visible to our eyes. But in our Christ-centered community we can reflect to one another that everything belongs within the reach of God’s grace and remain open to the mystery of Christ made real among us.

Peace, Ann +