Luke 24:13-35

William F. Schnell

April 6, 2008

There is a biblical or theological rationale for just about every element in our Sunday morning worship hour.  One of these days we will have a sermon series on those churchly words we find in our bulletin.  Words like Introit or Invocation or Gloria Patri or Doxology or Benediction.  Today I would simply point out that I know of no rational from the Bible or theology or church history for the pastor greeting everyone with a handshake at the end of the service. 

It is a pretty universal practice throughout modern Christendom so far as my experience is concerned for it has not only been the practice of every congregation I have served, it has been the practice of every congregation I have visited.  I do know of one exception to this rule that was pointed out in a written history on the Schnell clan that we call “The Green Book” because the cover is green.  I am not the only preacher in the family.  I was preceded by another Schnell who was also a preacher, and he immigrated to America from Germany. 

The Green Book says that this German preacher did not leave all things German behind when he came to America, for after pronouncing the benediction he proceeded to march down the aisle, out the door, across the street and into a tavern where he was served a tall tankard of ale.  That certainly would not fly today, and you can be sure that I will be at my post at service’s end, but sometimes one has to wonder about the direction progress has taken during the intervening years.

There is an excellent article in this week’s Christian Century magazine entitled, Handshake Ritual: Ministry at the Church Door.  I have already shared it with Rev, Horak because he alluded to church rituals in last week’s message, and he found it both entertaining and insightful.  I share just a portion of it with you now, which will require me to use a little poetic license to keep it brief.  It is by Martin B. Copenhaver, Senior Pastor of Wellesley Congregational Church in Massachusetts. 

Worship is over and I am standing in the doorway shaking hands. In front of me is a couple I do not recall seeing before.  I say, "Good morning! I'm Martin Copenhaver."  By my manner and my tone of voice you might think that I am greeting long-lost friends, rather than introducing myself to these people for the first time.  The woman of the couple responds, "Good to meet you.  We are Jill and Bob Townsend."  "Welcome.  So good to have you here."  I think, Focus on their names. Catch the names before they simply drop to the floor.

But while I am chatting with the new couple I see out of the corner of my eye the person next in line, whose grandfather just died.  …Or was it her grandmother?  I say, "I'm so sorry to hear about your loss."  She says, "Thanks.  I so appreciate that.  But it was a blessing."  I ask, "Was your whole family able to gather for the service?"  It's a rather lame question, but I am stalling for time, hoping that she will drop a personal pronoun.  Before she can respond, my teenage son comes up behind me and drapes his arms over my shoulders: "Dad, you know you want to give me money so I can get something at the bake sale."  Normally I would remind him that this is no way to ask me for something, but I don't have time for a lesson in manners.  "Sure, Todd, here."  I give him a ten-dollar bill.  It's all I have.  "Thanks, Dad."

A man about ten years younger than I, who has been waiting in the wings, suddenly steps forward for his moment: "You don't remember me, do you?"  He does look rather familiar, but in the way a person can remind you of someone else you know.  He bails me out: "I was in the first confirmation class you taught, 25 years ago."  I say, "Of course I remember you.  Absolutely.  But I have become very bad with names in my old age.  Help me with yours."  He replies, "I'm Scott Harrison."  Shaking my head in contrition, I say, "Of course you're Scott Harrison.  Absolutely, I remember you.  That was a great confirmation class.  How have you been?"  Then, after a few more snippets of conversation, I offer him my hand again as a way to draw this conversation to a close.

That is about all we have time to quote in this message, but I think you get the point.  People like to be recognized, which is why the handshake ritual is probably here to stay.  Preachers like to be recognized too.  They like to hear, “Nice sermon, Reverend.”  Last week Don Arbuckle told me that he really enjoyed my sermon that day.  As I said a moment ago Rev. Horak preached last Sunday, but I’ll take a complement whenever I can get one.  The author of the article mentioned one memorable “complement” he received from a parishioner who said: "You know, Martin, every sermon seems better than the next one."   

Some recognition we can do without.  Sometimes we try not to be recognized.  In February my wife and I were supposed to take a trip to New Mexico to visit the Konings who relocated from our congregation awhile back.  Unfortunately circumstances caused us to cancel our trip so, as a consolation prize, I went to spend an overnight with a pal in his cabin in a remote section of our state.  I left on a Sunday morning, at about 10:45, just as our 9:30 service was departing and the 11:00 congregation was arriving. 

I realized this as I was driving through town in my cabin-in-the-woods outfit with a trap shooting gun in the passenger seat, obviously skipping church on the Sabbath Day.  I have heard that celebrities who do not want to be recognized simply hold their noses.  So here I am sitting at the traffic light by Mario’s holding my nose and trying desperately not to be recognized.  Some times we want to be recognized and sometimes we do not.

In our text for this morning the recently risen Christ exhibits both tendencies.  As we continue though the season of the Christian year known as Eastertide, let us return to the first Easter day.  Several of Jesus’ followers have gone to visit his tomb but have found it empty.  The word has begun to spread among his other followers, but nobody knows quite what to make of it.  Now that same day two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem.  They were talking with each other about everything that had happened.  As the talked and discussed these things with each other, Jesus himself came up and walked along with the; but they were kept from recognizing him (Verses 13-16).

Being kept from recognizing Jesus is a common theme in the resurrection appearances.  In last Sunday’s message the risen Christ appears to his disciples while they are fishing, but the disciples did not realize that it was Jesus (John 21:4).  Likewise, when the risen Christ appears to Mary Magdalene she thinks he is the gardener.  In each case these followers of Jesus are only temporarily kept from recognizing who he is, but we have to ask “Why?”

Divine revelation is always an unfolding process that only grows as we grow.  As Pastor John Robinson said to the Pilgrims before they set sail for America, “God hath yet more light and truth to break forth from his Word.”  In other words, don’t put a period where God has put a comma.  It is religious egotism (read: Pharisees and Sadducees) that presumes with killing certainty to know God completely and to speak for him authoritatively.  That is why God continually confounds our understanding by keeping us from recognizing him.

When he was born into our world he did not come as we expected.  John writes in his Gospel, He was in the world, and though the world was made through him, the world did not recognize him (John 1:10).  And so it happened that when he went out of our world the world did not recognize him either.  There is a lesson in this for us lest we arrogantly presume to know more of God and his will and ways than we do.  And it should be an encouragement to continually and humbly seek him out, especially where we would otherwise least expect to find him.  For if we seek, then we will find.

This was certainly the experience of the two on the road to Emmaus that first Easter day.  As they approached the village to which they were going, Jesus acted as if he were going farther.  But they urged him strongly, “Stay with us, for it is nearly evening; the day is almost over.”  So he went in to stay with them.  When he was at the table with them, he took bread, gave thanks, broke it and began to give it to them.  Then their eyes were opened and they recognized him, and he disappeared from their sight (Verses 28-31). 

Jesus acted as if he was parting company with them to see their reaction.  In this case the two urged him strongly to stay with them, and so he did.  And so we find this spiritual irony: those who arrogantly claim to know God best are the ones who fail to recognize him when he comes, indeed, who reject him when he comes.  But those who recognize their need and plead for an ever nearer and dearer company with God receive it and, ultimately, recognize him for who he is.

You will notice that the two travelers recognize Jesus in the breaking of bread.  Indeed, that is exactly how it is put when the two witness to the resurrection with the disciples.  As our text concludes: Then the two told what had happened on the way, and how Jesus was recognized by them when he broke the bread (Verse35).  You will further notice that the description of the Emmaus scene is almost identical with Paul’s depiction of the Last Supper, which we always recount in our communion liturgy, where Jesus takes bread, gives thanks, breaks it and gives it to his disciples. 

In Paul’s depiction of the Last Supper he also makes a connection between properly partaking of the Lord’s Supper and recognizing Jesus.  We have printed at the top of our bulletins a quote from the text in question.  Paul writes: A man ought to examine himself before he eats of the bread and drinks of the cup.  For anyone who eats and drinks without recognizing the body of the Lord eats and drinks judgment upon himself (I Corinthians 11:28-29). 

Recognizing the body of the Lord means recognizing the Body of Christ, which is another name for the Church and its members.  When we fail to recognize Christ in that church person from another denomination or theological persuasion, or fail to recognize Christ in that church person of a different race or class, or fail to recognize Christ in that church person with who is new to the church or not a member of our clique; then we are failing to recognize the body of Christ, we are failing to recognize Christ in our midst and we are eating and drinking judgment upon ourselves.

Apparently these kinds of things were happening in Paul’s day for he writes: In the following directives I have no praise for you, for your meetings do more harm than good.  In the first place, I hear that when you come together as a church, there are divisions among you….  When you come together, it is not the Lord’s Supper you eat, for as you eat, each of you goes ahead without waiting for anybody else (I Corinthians 11:17-18 & 20-21). 

It is hard to sit at a table with someone and break bread when you are not getting along.  That is a big reason why Jesus began a new ritual around a common table—to encourage us to find fellowship with one another and, in the process to find fellowship with him.  And not only at the sacramental table set in the sanctuary, but at the tables set in Fellowship Hall (which is why it is called “Fellowship Hall”).  Our fellowship with one another is how we recognize the Lord’s body—how we recognize the body of Christ.

Let’s face it; we may not always recognize Christ in every message preached from the pulpit.   We may not always recognize Christ in the other elements of Sunday morning worship.  Those may not be the places we have our “aha” moments of spiritual awakening.  But sometimes we may recognize Christ in the place we least expected to find him: in the person we meet and greet at Coffee Hour after worship—in the person who, like us, is a part of the body of Christ.  Maybe that is where the “aha” moment comes, in our Christian Fellowship.

Last Sunday Rev. Horak reported in our Words of Welcome that no one was signed up to provide refreshments for Coffee Hour.  This is not a small issue, so I have asked members of our Fellowship Committee to display a sign-up sheet and be available to answer questions about how each of us can support this essential component of our worship life together.  It is easy and it is fun and it is fellowship at its best.  So I want everybody to attend Coffee Hour after church this morning, including me, and I want everyone to sign up for one Sunday in the coming year.  Just pick a Sunday and if a conflict in your schedule arises we will help you switch to a more convenient date.

For now, however, let us prepare to come to this table that has been set for us in keeping with the Lord’s command.  Let us examine ourselves so that we may eat and drink in a worthy manner, and so as not to bring judgment upon ourselves.  Let us recognize the Lord’s body of which each of us is equally a part.