Summary: They started their journey to Emmaus with broken hearts, but it wasn't too long before the disciples' hearts began to burn with promise and joy.

April 26, 2020

Hope Lutheran Church

Pastor Mary Erickson

Luke 24:13-35

From Broken Hearts to Burning Hearts

Friends, may grace and peace be yours in abundance in the knowledge of God and Christ Jesus our Lord.

They started their journey to Emmaus with broken hearts. But it wasn’t too long before their broken hearts began burning with promise and joy.

I’ve been pondering these gospel texts from the last couple of Sundays. I’ve tried to put myself in the shoes of the disciples. And what I’ve come to realize is that they show all the classic signs of having experienced significant trauma.

Last week the disciples had barricaded themselves inside their safehouse. It was the eve of Easter. They were gripped by fear and in total retreat. They’ve clearly been terrorized.

Trauma ramps up activity in the primitive areas of the brain. The areas sensing threat and fear work overtime. But the higher areas of the brain, the areas controlling decision making and empathy, their activities are severely reduced.

This week we hear the story of the two disciples on the road to Emmaus. This exchange also takes place later on the day of Easter. And the signs of trauma are everywhere:

- They’re in active flight. They’ve left Jerusalem and they’re retreating to Emmaus.

- One notable characteristic of trauma is that it can affect our sight. People in the throes of a critical situation experience tunnel vision. Their scope of vision narrows. Extreme stress can also make our vision blurry. Something has affected the vision of these two disciples and they can’t recognize Jesus.

- Their ability to recognize him might also be that they’re not able to think clearly. They’ve got fuzzy thinking. The old synapses just aren’t fire like they normally do!

- And finally, they’ve got short tempers. Jesus plays dumb and pretends he’s not familiar with what events have happened in Jerusalem. Cleopas responds in a testy and sarcastic manner. Traumatized people lose empathy and become more self-centered. The civilized niceties disappear.

So I’ve been thinking about how very traumatic all of the events of those last few days had been on the disciples. They saw their dear friend and teacher arrested and violently hauled away. He’d been whipped and beaten. Then they saw him tried and condemned. He was forced to carry his cross through the streets of Jerusalem, people jeering him, the soldiers kicking and prodding him. And finally, he was crucified on the outskirts of the city. Before the sun had set, he was dead and buried in a tomb. All this within 24 hours.

How traumatic was that! And then, they reveal that the full weight of what happened was even worse. It wasn’t just the brutal death of their friend, it was also the smashing of their hopes and dreams. “We had hoped,” they said to the stranger on the road, “We had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel!”

This was major trauma! They were completely empty, hollowed out. They would have staggered along like shell-shocked individuals. Their hearts were completely broken.

As they made their way to Emmaus, they would have walked downcast, like wilted plants. They were emotionally bereft and numb.

I’ve got a peace lily, and it’s always very good at telling me when it’s thirsty. The leaves droop over. That’s something of what the two disciples must have looked like as they walked along the road to Emmaus. Drooped over and despondent.

And then Jesus arrives. He meets them right where they’re at. Very tenderly, he draws out the whole story from them. And then he begins to fill them up.

There’s a classic painting called “The Way to Emmaus” by the Swiss artist Robert Zund. It hung in our house while I was growing up. Jesus is gesticulating while he’s walking with the two disciples. As you look at the painting, you can tell the moment in the story that Zund is depicting. “Then, beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them the things about himself in all the scriptures.”

If you look very closely, Emmaus stands in the background of the painting. They’re drawing near to Emmaus. So in the painting, Jesus has been expounding on the scriptures for a while. And the two disciples aren’t looking like droopy plants. They’re hanging on his every word! They’re captivated by what Jesus is saying. Their once broken hearts are beginning to burn. They’re burning with the hope and promise of the resurrection.

A transformation is taking place. “Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road?”

Jesus wants to encounter us in our innermost place: our heart. Where our hearts are fearful, or despairing, or weary, he meets us just like he did with the two disciples. He meets us right where we are at.

We find ourselves now in a time where our world has slowed down. The regular rhythms of our lives have changed. It’s a centering time.

We’re not moving around as much as we normally do. And as the dust settles – literally! – our world’s atmosphere has been clearing up. The levels of air pollution have been dropping significantly as fewer vehicles are on the roads.

Skies that normally are quite smoggy are once again blue. At night, stars that once were obscured by pollution now twinkle and shine.

It’s because we’ve been forced to slow down. After the prophet Elijah had experienced extreme personal trauma, God said that God would pass by Elijah on Mount Horeb. Elijah climbed up the mountain. Standing on the mountain side, a howling wind encompassed the mountain. But God wasn’t in the gale. Then rock splitting earthquake occurred. But God wasn’t in the earthquake, either. After the earthquake, the mountain was wrapped in fire. But God wasn’t present in the fire, either. At last, Elijah heard NOTHING! It was sheer silence. And in the silence, Elijah heard the still, small voice of God.

During this centering time – as a state, as a nation, as a world – this is an opportunity when we can hear the voice of God more clearly. Reading the word of God fills and enlivens our hearts just as it did to the disciples along the Emmaus road. In prayer, our hearts are quieted. And the Holy Spirit of God breathes new life into our souls. Christ wishes to open our eyes to his presence among us. Open the eyes of our hearts, Lord, we want to see you.