The Journey – Rev. David J. Schreffler

April 19, 2015
Sunday

“Now on that same day two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem, and talking with each other about all these things that had happened. While they were talking and discussing, Jesus himself came near and went with them, but their eyes were kept from recognizing him.” Luke 24:13-16

A walk and a meal can transform your life, and that’s what happened in the encounter of Jesus with two of his earliest followers. Trudging down the road, two utterly confused followers are joined by a third man. Their world has been turned upside down by the events of the past week: celebration, conflict, violence, and death, and now the possibility that their martyred spiritual leader has come back to life. Resurrection is just as unsettling as crucifixion. It doesn’t fit into any rational 2015 world view, including the theology of resurrection of the first century Jewish people. They could imagine a resurrection of all humanity at the end of history, but not the resurrection of a solitary individual. But, they walk the seven miles from Jerusalem to Emmaus, first sharing their common grief, and then entering into a strange conversation with their unexpected companion, who unfolds the story of salvation through resurrection to them. Somehow, they cannot recognize their companion as the teacher and healer Jesus. Perhaps, it is a bit of divine magic allowing them to gently adapt to a new way of seeing; perhaps, it is the highly energetic body of their companion that both reveals and conceals Jesus’ identity. Confused and grief-stricken, the two men nevertheless reach out to the stranger. They invite him to supper, and come to know his identity as the Risen Jesus in the breaking of the bread. Their hospitality leads to a theophany, an encounter with the Risen Jesus, who is known in the simple Eucharistic acts of praying and eating. Movement and meal lead to revelation, and then Jesus is gone, vanishing from their sight, but leaving them with warmed hearts, lively spirits, and energetic bodies. They are so energized that they walk seven miles back to Jerusalem to share their good news that Jesus is risen and on the road.” Let’s Go for a Walk: Reflections on The Road to Emmaus (April 28, 2014 by Bruce Epperly – patheos.com)

“Jesus is risen and on the road.” I love this quote. What better understanding of the risen Jesus can we have – Jesus is on the road – Jesus is on the move. Jesus is loosed on the world and we never know where he may appear – except we know that he is in the bread and wine of communion, he is in the waters of our baptisms, and he is in the word that we preach and live out each and every day. And no matter how tired we are, or weary, or poor in spirit, or confused, knowing that Jesus is loosed upon the world gives us the strength and courage to reach out to strangers and friends alike. In the journeys of our lives, Jesus promises to meet us on the road. I often preach on this text in a funeral sermon, because all of our lives are journeys. And each journey is unique – is special – is life defining and life delivering. When we go on the journey with our eyes fixed simply on the destination, we are going to miss a lot of opportunities to see Jesus in our midst – just like the Levite and the Priest missed their encounter with the man left for dead along the road of their journeys. I don’t think they believed that it was beneath them to help – but their “responsibilities” did not allow them to stop. If our journeys are too focused on the destination, they we are going to miss a lot of opportunities along the way. Of course the destination is important. But the trip is also going to be life defining and life-changing if we are aware of the presence of Jesus. Along the journeys of our lives, we need to take time to commune with Jesus – break bread with our neighbors and those in need – and in those moments, we will also meet Jesus.

Pastor Dave

Radical Hospitality – Rev. David J. Schreffler

April 16, 2015

“The next day he took out two denarii, gave them to the innkeeper, and said, ‘Take care of him; and when I come back, I will repay you whatever more you spend.’ Jesus ask, “Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” He said, “The one who showed him mercy.” Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise.” Luke 10:35-37

Recently, the pastors of the West Shore Conference decided to preach a series of sermons based on themes that thriving, growing congregations are practicing on a regular basis. One of those themes is “Radical Hospitality”. Radical hospitality involves an active desire to invite, welcome, receive, and care for those who are strangers. The story of the Good Samaritan is a good story which teaches us five lessons about Hospitality:

Hospitality is based on need – not on worth
The man who is attacked in our lesson from Luke is unknown – unnamed – a nobody – his true identity is unknown. But, he does have one identity: he is someone in need. The ones who walk past don’t necessarily feel that they are above helping him, they just believe that it is beneath them to help in this situation – too risky based on their religious circumstances – it just isn’t worth it. They don’t want to get involved. Hospitality my brothers and sisters is based on need – period – it is not necessarily about whether it is convenient for us at the time. We need to be ready to welcome strangers into our lives, and into our churches. And it affects how you live because it demands that you take risks in many different situations – that you step out of your comfort zone and are willing to “Welcome anyone into your midst”.

Hospitality involves Compassion
The Greek word for compassion is splagnizomai – and it is an ancient word that literally means the inner parts of a sacrificial animal. It means the guts. Compassion is the inner anxious desire to help someone that comes from deep within us – from our gut – that gut wrenching feeling that keeps us up at night worrying about our kids, our parents, and those who are in need. This is the compassion that the Samaritan felt – it is what the people who lived near Kitty Genovese apparently lacked. No one felt compelled to get up, go outside their apartment, and to “invite” this woman, this woman who was desperately “in need” into their home. Compassion is what caused the Good Samaritan to stop – compelled him not just to walk by, but to do something. When did our society become so jaded that we have lost the ability to feel compassion for one another deep within our very being?

Hospitality does something
The gut wrenching feeling turns into action – and in particular Radical Hospitality moves in two directions simultaneously. First we hear the word of Christ to love God, and to love our neighbor – Christ’s word, dwelling inside us, creates genuine, gut wrenching compassion – a compassion that, secondly, compels and directs and moves us outwardly to do something. Inward the word increases our knowledge of the need to help, and outward, we act – you see a need and you do something to “care” for someone, even if it is risky to your reputation, to your time, or to your finances. It means that you get your hands dirty – it means that there is a cost involved. When did we ever get the idea that ministry is always clean, orderly, and convenient? Which leads me to number four…

Hospitality will cost something
The Samaritan doesn’t just stop – he gives of his own resources (wine oil and bandages), his time (he was on his way to somewhere), and his money (and it is a generous amount). Again, compassion means we “stop”, “drop what we are doing”, and “do”.

Hospitality demonstrates our relationship to God
The lawyer’s question of “Who is my neighbor?” has been turned around by Jesus to “You decide who acted like a neighbor?” Jesus turns the question from “Jesus tell me who I must love?” to Jesus asking “Who do you think showed Radical Hospitality to his fellow brother or sister in need?” If we base our faith on serving and loving only the lovable (and as such the ones we determine to be worthy on our own standards) – then our faith is empty and our relationship with God is empty and compassionless. Our relationship with G*d should not always be “Us” “taking” something: “I took communion” — “I took the bulletin home” — “the sermon gave me nothing to “take” into the week coming up”. Instead, we are people who “receive” Grace when we do not deserve it – and we need to turn that into “receiving” people into our midst who have nothing to give us in return.

Pastor Dave