Vicar Karla
This spring, I am auditing a course at Luther Seminary. I have realized that since I am auditing and am not taking the course for credit but am rather there to just learn, that going to class and not needing to do assignments for courses is, in fact, every bit as enjoyable as I always imagined it to be. A couple of weeks ago, I was on campus with my fellow classmates for the on campus portion of the course. In a break between course sessions, a few of us found ourselves chatting in the comfy chairs outside the classroom. The four of us are all pretty far along in our seminary educations and candidacy for Word and Sacrament. I am on internship, another student is about to start internship, and the other two have completed their internships and will shortly beginning their first calls as pastors in congregations.
Inevitably, as it was Feburary, we found the topic of conversation drifting toward all that was happening in Minnesota with regards to the occupation of ICE and CPB officers, and specifically, we found ourselves talking about how churches and clergy have been responding. This was not long after the 100 clergy were arrested for blocking deportation flights, including several of our Wildfire pastors. One of my friends said something I don’t think I will soon forget. She said that as she was reflecting on her soon to be complete seminary education, she has identified how her thinking has changed since she started. In particular, she noted that when she started seminary, the potential impact to her social life was what she would have identified as being her biggest concern of following this call to be a pastor. Would she be able to find someone to date? Is that something she was supposed to lead with on the dating apps or do you share it later type of thing? But, now, as she prepares to begin her first call as a pastor, her biggest concern is, am I going to need to take on bodily harm to protect and advocate for my neighbors? Am I going to need to put my body on the line? We noted the Episcopal bishop in New England who was pushing his clergy to have their wills and affairs in order because the time is coming when they may face a very real need to do just that.
And so I wonder, is that what the disciples might have been thinking as they continue on their journey. Being seen with Jesus, the one who was murdered for insurrection against the Roman Empire would have made them targets of facing the same fate. When they left home they were probably aware that their decision to leave everything they knew to follow this Gallilean outsider would have been viewed as a questionable decision. What was the worst that would happen, though? They get made fun of at family dinner when they got back home? Well now, all of a sudden, they are faced with the fear of so much more happening to them for their involvement in Jesus’ ministry. 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? Were Roman soldiers going to come after them and punish them or even their families?
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?
If we look back to Jesus’ birth and the very start of his story, he came into this world as a stranger. A displaced Galilean, far away from home, born to parents who were 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 meets us on the roads, so too, may we exemplify that love and presence to accompany and meet others on their own roads. Amen.