Last weekend, I was on campus down at Gustavus Adolphus College, representing Faith Lilac Way at the annual Association of Congregations Meeting. Gustavus just happens to be my beloved alma mater, and it was a wonderful excuse to be on campus in the beautiful springtime as the semester winds down. During her state of the college, President Bergman reminded all of us that graduation was right around the corner for this year’s graduating seniors. It is, in fact, today. So with that in mind, throughout the last week, I have been finding myself thinking about my own graduations.
I remember graduating from high school, slightly sad yes because I was very fortunate to have a mostly positive high school experience with good friends I remain close to still today, but mostly I was just excited and I was ready for what was next. I could just taste the newness, the freedom, that all that was to come could only be good. I felt like I had the world at my feet. And that assuredness mostly turned out to be founded. And, my four years at college where I headed right after high school were largely fantastic, and I am grateful every single day for my undergraduate experiences and friendships.
But, I remember feeling very differently on the day of my college graduation than I did for high school. In that season, I felt like I was losing much of my identity, so much of what had defined me for the last four years. How was I supposed to go out into the real world and not need to introduce myself with my major? And what do you mean that my best friends would no longer live a flight of stairs above me or across the parking lot? I felt completely lost and I felt sad. And I found that the best I could do was to just think of what was immediately next. I would move home to my parents’ house before my internship started. And when people asked me what was next for me, I would glibly answer that well for now I was going to just focus on reading the new Dan Brown novel because I couldn’t remember the last time I’d read a book for fun. During the last week of school, one of my friends even made a sign that he affixed to his backpack that said, “I am a senior. No, I don’t know the meaning of life and I don’t know what I’m doing after graduation, so you can all stop asking.” At the end of it, there was this feeling of, well, there’s nothing to do but to head for home and figure out what would come next.
Today’s gospel lesson exemplifies these feelings but on steroids. If I thought I was lost and had given up huge pieces of my identity just by graduating from college, I really can’t fathom how Jesus’ disciples must have felt. The man that they followed, who they had sacrificed for, was gone, seemingly along with the assurance that he was in fact the messiah they had all longed for. What would be waiting upon arriving home? Where was home? Was Cleopas nervous to get home because he didn’t want the earful from his family about his disappearance during the years he was following Jesus? Can you imagine those I told you so’s?
Today is actually Star Wars day. It’s May 4th, so may the fourth be with you. Obviously, I have to use the excuse to work Star Wars into today’s sermon. Today’s gospel lesson brings about so many feelings of unrequited hopes and dreams. I admit that I do generally prefer the original Star Wars movies, episodes 4, 5, and 6 which were released in the 70s and 80s. I can mostly take or leave episodes 1,2, and 3 and then 7, 8, and 9. But, there is a scene that comes to my mind in today’s context. At the end of the third movie, we reach a pivotal moment. Movies 1, 2, and 3 have shown Annakin Skywalker, working and training with his jedi master, Obi Wan Knobi to become a jedi and wielder of the Force. Annakin is thought to be the one who is foretold to bring balance to the force, aligning himself with the “good” side of the force along with Yoda and Obi Wan. But, Annakin is seduced to the dark side of the force, eventually morphing into the infamous Darth Vader.
At the end of the third movie, after a lot of drama and violence, Annakin has fought with Obi Wan and he is falling back into a volcano. In anger, desperation Obi Wan yells, “You were my brother. You were the chosen one.” And I wonder, did any of Jesus’ disciples cry out similar words after his crucifixion? I imagine variations of “Jesus, you were my brother, my teacher, my confidant. I believed in you, left home for you, was ostracized by communities for you. You were supposed to be the chosen one. The Messiah. You didn’t bring God’s wrath and revenge like you were supposed to. Now what am I supposed to do?”
And then, as they are journeying on that road, Jesus meets them, surprising them. Not only do they not recognize him but they are shocked that here is someone who hasn’t heard the news of what has just occurred in Jerusalem. I am sure it would have seemed absolutely wild to them- that their worlds have completely shifted and changed in every way imaginable and here is a new person who doesn’t have any concept and whose world seemingly has just kept on turning while their world would have been completely turned upside down.And then, this stranger doesn’t just pass them by, not only does he meet them there in the road, but he continues walking alongside them for quite a long walk.
When I studied abroad in Sweden during my sophomore year at Gustavus, our group took a day trip to see the factory where the dala horses, so famous in Sweden, are made and painted. We were staying in a folk school about ten kilometers from the factory which was a bit removed in a more rural village. We boarded the bus and learned about the history of the horses and the painting traditions. We took some photos, bought some souvenirs, and had a grand time. Until we missed our bus to go back to town. We had two choices. We could wait for the next bus, about 8 hours away, or we could walk back. Now keep in mind this was a really tiny town. Pretty much the only thing we could have done to pass the time would have been to sit at a bus stop. So, we collectively just started the 10 kilometer trek and remember that none of us were wearing clothing or footwear with the notion of needing to be able to walk that distance that day.
As we were finishing the walk, we were very hungry and we were tired and our feet hurt. Such a terrible trifecta. As we started that final mile or so, we looked up and saw the golden arches of McDonalds, and to this day, I don’t think McDonalds has ever tasted so good. And this story is one of our shared favorite memories from our semester that we still laugh about all these years later. It just so happens that the distance we traversed that day was about the length of the walk that today’s disciples would have been walking to Emmaus. Aka I can attest that there would have been plenty of time for conversation and connections.
Throughout the Torah, the commandment to welcome the stranger appears 36 times. This means that Cleopas and the other disciples would have been very well versed and knowledgeable about the importance of honoring the stranger. It was not an accident that Jesus showed up as a stranger, and the word that is used here is the word that would have been translated to mean foreigner. In Greek, the word for stranger is paroikos. Oikos means “house,” so literally, par-oikos means “outside the house.” This is the same word that is used for someone who lives in a country without citizenship. Cleopas calls Jesus an “immigrant,” a “foreigner.” How often do we, too, assume that we understand and that others are outsiders who do not belong?
You all might be picking up throughout my time here with you so far on how much I love the multitudes of literary devices and parallels we can find throughout the bible, the bookends as I like to call them. So, if we look back to Jesus’ birth and the very start of his story, he came into this world as a stranger. A displaced Gallilean, far away from home, guests in Bethlehem, without resources, without even a proper place to spend the night. And then, before they could even return home, they were forced to flee to Egypt for fear of their safety and their lives. So, Jesus enters the world as a stranger. And here in today’s story from Luke, he is once again a stranger.
How might our world look different if we saw Jesus reflected in the face of each stranger, each foreigner we met? Where are the places where the face, ministry, legacy of Jesus is present and alive, but we do not recognize it? Perhaps we don’t recognize it because our minds are already made up, that we feel we know the stories and experiences of someone we do not know. How much more wonderful could our world, this kingdom of God’s which we are tasked with creating here on Earth, look different if we could just remember to look for the face of Jesus in the stranger, in those who are different from us, those who are outsiders?
Though he is not physically here, Jesus meets us on the road, on all roads, the short and easy traversable ones, and the very windy ones that we are forced to walk when we do not expect to and when we do not want to. Jesus meets us there all the same. And, even when he makes himself known to his friends, he makes it clear that it is peace that he brings. Just as he did when he was living and walking among them during his ministry on Earth.
May we be brave enough to look for Jesus in the faces of those who are different from us, the outsiders, the lost, the forgotten, those who don’t share our same experiences or beliefs. As Christ meats us on the roads, so too, may we exemplify that love and presence to accompany and meet others on their own roads. Amen.
Vicar Karla Leitzman