I heard a story about a soldier in airborne training: that’s where a soldier becomes convinced that it’s okay to jump out of a perfectly good airplane with a parachute.
Prior to loading up the airplane for the jump, his sergeant barked out orders:
-follow standard jump procedures and jump master’s instructions. Jump when you are told to jump
-after exiting the airplane count: one thousand one, one thousand two, one thousand three and check your canopy.
-if your primary doesn’t open, pull your reserve ripcord
-when you land, a truck will take you back to the post
When the plane got over the drop zone, he did everything the sergeant told him: he jumped when it was his turn. He counted, and checked his canopy, and there was no parachute above him
He pulled his reserve ripcord. And again, nothing happened.
“Oh, great,” he lamented, with the way things are going, I’ll bet the truck won’t be waiting for us, either.” Airborne, all the way!
In 1786, the Scot poet Robert Burns famously summarized this peculiarity of life in a poem entitled: To a Mouse. Reflecting on his experience of upturning a mouse nest while plowing a field, he apologizes to the mouse writing:
And I translate:
But, mousie, thou art not alone
in proving foresight may be vain:
the best laid schemes of mice and men
often go awry
and leave us nought but grief and pain,
for promised joy.
Today in the gospel reading we meet two fellows on their way to the little village of Emmaeus on the afternoon of the third day after Jesus’ death.
Walking along, they were discussing the events of the past three days, events which have shaken them to their core and turned their lives upside down. Things did not turn out at all how they expected. They are upset, sad, confused.
Kicking their thoughts back and forth between them, they are trying to get a grasp on what happened, trying to understand the truth of the situation.
Suddenly, a stranger joins them on their journey, and he asks them about their conversation.
The scripture says they stood still, looking sad, incredulous, that this stranger did not know of the events surrounding Jesus, their former teacher.
We can almost hear their broken-hearted confusion as they describe this Jesus whom they had followed; a prophet of God, mighty in deed and word, we were sure! He was the one, the Messiah, the one who would redeem Israel.
But the chief priests and rulers condemned him and crucified him, and now he is dead and buried.
And there was this report earlier that day from women, fellow disciples who had gone to the tomb and his body was gone. And they further said they encountered angels telling them that Jesus was alive.
But he was dead, wasn’t he?
Yet even others had gone and validated the women’s witness. His body was gone. What to make of this? What are we to do?
They were disciples of Jesus, committed students of Jesus, friends of Jesus. They had an understanding how all of this was supposed to work out. It started out so well on the day he was welcomed into Jerusalem with the shouting of hosannas and the waving of the palms.
It was true, they were convinced, Jesus was the Messiah and he really was going to inaugurate a new kingdom like King David’s, and all would be made right: their nation restored, Rome kicked out.
Jesus would use his power to punish and eradicate all evil, and heal all sicknesses, and he would make it so that poverty and hunger would be no more.
It’s not hard to imagine. Just consider what Jesus had done in their presence: restored hearing, sight, multiplied food for the hungry, healed illnesses – why he even raised the dead to life. Jesus was going to make life great, heaven on earth.
But then it had gone so wrong, so terribly wrong. As Jesus was arrested, beaten up, crucified and killed, so were their hopes and dreams.
This was not supposed to happen. This was not in the plan. All they held to be true and right was brought into question; their future was murky and unsure. They were hurt, disappointed, confused and overwhelmed by circumstances.
Have you been there, where these two are? We make our plans for our lives expecting certain results, seeking, even expecting God’s blessing on these plans, and then the unimagined happens: the unplanned birth, the unexpected sickness or death or accident, the unforeseen loss of a job, the stock market crashes, or the unexpected move.
In a flash our plans are dashed by circumstances beyond our control and we are left alone, with our world and lives turned upside down, dealing with grief, hopelessness, doubt, and fear. Life becomes rather dark and threatening.
But this passage might give us some hints on how to deal with these situations.
First note, these two guys were in the same psychological and emotional situation. They were dealing with the same stuff; they were dealing with it together.
It helps to have a co-pilot when flying in dangerous situations. It helps to have a fellow traveler when navigating unfamiliar paths.
That really should be a rule of life for the Christian—don’t go it alone. Have someone with you that you know, who knows you, who knows Jesus as you do. Someone you trust.
Jesus was seldom alone in his ministry; he usually had twelve guys with him or derivatives thereof. The only time he was alone was in prayer. When he sent out the disciples to minister he sent them two by two. We are not designed to go it alone.
So maybe we should consider building a relationship with a brother or sister in Christ—someone who is walking the same journey of life as we are, someone on their way to the same destination with the same questions and same hopes. This kind of friendship and fellowship should be a part of what it means to be church.
As they say, misery loves company but it’s always better than facing it alone.
Second, remember Easter’s proclamation, the Lord has risen indeed.
If Jesus is risen, then all is changed. Consider how he dealt with our friends. He meets them on the road, joins them in their journey. He listens to them—he wants to know their hurts and struggles—he is not indifferent to their situation.
After listening he guides them like a loving father with his children to a true understanding of their situation.
Taking them through the Scriptures he reshapes their perspective with the truth, counteracting emotion, correcting their false assumptions and expectations so that they might understand and view their situation from God’s perspective. The risen Lord wants them to know the truth, he really is in charge!
And as their perspective is changed their sight is restored so that at the moment of the breaking of the bread they see Jesus and they see hope because if Jesus is alive then everything is indeed changed. He wants the same for us.
We all live life on the road to Emmaeus. We have our plans for life. We think we have it all in hand—but invariably we will be disappointed. We will have those days, we will make our plans. When we do everything right, but when we look up—there is no parachute–and our lives seem to crash in on us.
It’s then we will realize the blessing of having a trusted fellow traveler to confide in, to find fellowship with, with whom to share our troubles. We realize what the church is.
And more significantly, its then, if we know that Jesus is risen, we can know that all is changed, that he is with us on our road too, and he will surely take us to where we need to go.
Alleluia, Christ is risen, the Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia.
Sermon preached by the Rev. Richard C. Marsden
Church of the Redeemer
Sarasota Florida
3rd Sunday after Easter
30 April 2017