With our routines and world upended by the Shelter in Place Order that affects all of California, we are looking for ways to stay connected during a mandate to physically stay apart from one another. This is a continuation of our time together, even though we’re in different spaces.
Opening Hymn • Sing of One Who Walks Beside Us • Page 231 Chalice Hymnal
Due to copyright, we do not have a lyrics sheet to post.
Invocation
Elusive God,
companion on the way,
you walk behind, beside, beyond;
you catch us unawares.
Break through the disillusionment and despair
clouding our vision,
that, with wide-eyed wonder,
we may find our way and journey on
as messengers of your good news. Amen.
Special Music • Now We Remain by David Haas • Performed by Mary Jo Renner
Tithes and Offerings
Checks can be mailed to:
Grace Community Church
C/O Rene Horton
P.O. Box 368
Auberry, CA 93602
Holy Scripture
Acts 2:14a, 36-41 • Luke 24:13-35
Lay Leader: Mary Jo Renner
Children’s Time
Faith formation resources for families and those who like to color as prayer.
Church at Prayer and The Lord’s Prayer
All are invited to email me prayer requests for next week’s prayer, or to get in touch any time during the week. We are in the midst of an unprecidented global event, and I am available as a compassionate ear if you find you need to talk through what’s going on.
Due to the public nature of worship and prayers online, prayer requests will be vague on the video recording to respect privacy and confidentiality, trusting that God knows our intention.
Hymn • Rock of Ages, Cleft for Me • Page 215 Chalice Hymnal
The Message
Sermon Transcript
Do you remember the Where’s Waldo books? Page after page of cluttered, busy pictures, designed to hide Waldo somewhere within the crowds on a beach or in a park. Then you’d pore over them page by page, searching for the conspicuously dressed man with glasses, a beanie, and a red and white striped shirt. You could almost always find him eventually because you knew exactly what you were looking for.
My sister had a camera when we were kids that automatically inserted Waldo into the frame. This was the early 90s, so it wasn’t anything quite like the filters that can be found on apps like snapchat or facebook nowadays, so there was no adjusting to the image in the photo and putting Waldo in the best place possible for concealment. Instead, whatever was in the corner of every photo would be invariably covered up by a very obvious Waldo, waving hello and ready to ruin that picture of grandpa.
I was thinking about Waldo a lot this week. Not because I love searching for infuriatingly tiny little men on pages that are swarming with people—none of them minding their social distancing, thank you—but because I have been chewing on the reading from Luke, thinking about Jesus just showing up on the Road to Emmaus, and what it must have been like for his apostles not to realize he was there, walking and talking with them.
It’s not quite a Waldo situation. There is no template for it. There’s no key at the bottom saying “See if you spot the risen Christ on this page!” It wasn’t even like my sister’s terrible Where’s Waldo camera, Jesus superimposed in the lower righthand corner of everything, so he would awkwardly be present. Instead, he simply joined the two apostles as they were walking dejectedly to Emmaus.
Let’s take a moment to get our bearings. Though we are in the Third Sunday of Easter, and last week we jumped 8 days ahead to talk about Thomas, chronologically, this story comes to us from Easter evening.
Two of the apostles were making the trek to a village, Emmaus. This wasn’t a long journey—about seven miles from Jerusalem—however, it was taking place after an emotionally charged few days. They had witnessed Jesus’ crucifixion on Friday, and after keeping the sabbath, had found out that the women had found the empty tomb, and had even seen him on the path.
The good news hadn’t quite reached these two. Though they had heard the womens’ account of that morning, they were, you know, women. Even followers of a radical guy like Jesus whose table and ministry were always open to women may have struggled to listen to the accounts of women in the same way they would have had it come from men. They were still deeply in the throes of grief. There is even a part of the reading, once Jesus joined them, where it is pointed out that, “They stood still, looking sad.” This is not a twosome who have said any alleluias yet.
And it is in this state of grief, mixed with a little shame, because the things they had assumed would have happened already, hadn’t, that Jesus, the risen Christ, finds them and inserts himself into their conversation. Even though they are discussing the recent events, they don’t recognize him, or, more importantly to recognize, they are kept from recognizing him.
What could keep you from recognizing someone you love so dearly?
There are a few ways of reading such a fascinating choice of words. One could be that God is keeping them from seeing him clearly to enhance the “Aha!” moment at the end when Jesus becomes clear. Another could be that through the lens of grief, we don’t see anything as clearly as we would otherwise. Also, what our expectations are of a situation’s outcome can affect the way we perceive what is happening.
They were not expecting him to show himself to them while walking, especially not while they were discussing their disappointment. “We had hoped he was to be the one to redeem Israel, and here we are, it’s already the end of the third day, and no big fireworks or showy return. We still feel the same as ever. And when a few of us went to the tomb hoping to flip the switch that signaled angels to appear, nothing happened. It’s been a big bummer of a weekend.”
There is another thing about those Where’s Waldo books that seems to fit in here. When looking so intensely for Waldo, I’ve noticed that I miss all the other bizarre, fascinating, and kind of humorous other people and vignettes taking place within the image. Looking so intently for a single, expected result might cloud the way we can see everything else in the periphery. Squinting and searching so hard for a red and white shirt means I’ve missed the couple walking down the lane, the child dropping her ice cream and the dog at her heels so eager to catch it.
When we think we know exactly what the resurrection means, exactly what God’s intent is, exactly what the signs are all pointing to, we tend to miss all of the surprises that are lined up waiting for us to be taken by surprise. Perhaps the two apostles on their trek to Emmaus were so busy expecting to find Jesus in the heavenly equivalent of red and white stripes that they couldn’t recognize that the traveler quietly and meekly joined their party.
He may have continued on along the road once they reached Emmaus, but they urged him to join them, they extended hospitality to this stranger who somehow understood all the prophets and was able to give lights to the scriptures that had told about Jesus, even though he had claimed to be previously unfamiliar with the topic of discussion as he joined their party.
He was asked to stay with them, and it was then, after the hospitality was extended, that they were able to finally see him for who he was. It was at the table, when jesus took the bread, blessed it, and broke it. As he shared it with them, they saw, It was Jesus! Their eyes were opened, they could recognize the very man they were mourning.
As the light of recognition flickered in their eyes, he vanished.
They realized, as they talked about the amazing thing that had just taken place, that they had known it was him all along, but couldn’t name the feeling or place what it was as their hearts were burning within them while they conversed with him on the road. As Jesus was making the scriptures more clear, they knew who he was deep within, but were not yet in a place of being open to Jesus returning to them in that way. It wasn’t until they had extended hospitality to the stranger, asking him to stay with them, and then in the act of Jesus doing what he did so often in breaking bread and sharing it, that he could be revealed. They broke out of the bindings of their grief and mourning, wriggled free from the expectation of what should have happened and the disappointment of what they had hoped for not coming to pass, and shifted to the auto-pilot of following what Jesus would have had them do. They were able to see the whole scene, the full, busy landscape of the end of that third day after Jesus’ death. They had confirmation, once they rushed back to Jerusalem to be with the others, that yes, Jesus had appeared to Simon as well.
We, too, are in a different state from our usual this Easter season. We are perhaps grieving that things had not turned out as we had meticulously planned them. I am delivering this sermon to you from Camp Quaranteen, a makeshift celebration of my son Cary’s thirteenth birthday, which would have otherwise been a big campout on the beach at Morro Strand with all the extended family, but instead was just us in the back yard. We are dealing with a case of what we had hoped for versus what we were dealt due to sheltering in place and the fear of getting our very large extended and blended family sick. I’m sure you’ve had plans change, something big has been canceled during this season too.
I leave you with two thoughts to take into this week with you. First, even though it’s tempting to Where’s Waldo your situation and look for the glimmers of familiarity, try not to and instead take in the bigger picture. Focusing on the one thing you can’t find right now, the hope that seems to have been mercilessly dashed against the cruel shores of COVID-19 reality, may be preventing you from taking in the beautiful, life-filled world around you.
Secondly, keep in mind that Jesus does show up for you. And will keep showing up. It may not be for as long as you would want, but he will appear in that moment you need him. If you feel that burning in your heart, that soaring in your soul, look wider, open your understanding broader to accommodate new and unexpected encounters. The resurrection is not limited to our previous understanding of it, and all Jesus is asking of us is to provide the space and invitation. He will make himself known, even in our grief. No red-striped shirt and beanie cap necessary.
Closing Hymn • Come Ye Faithful, Raise the Strain • Page 215 Chalice Hymnal