Heartburn: The Day After Easter

The chairs are folded, the pastries and coffee put away, and everyone who has volunteered in their various roles in churches across the world are taking a rest today. Whew! Putting on an Easter service is hard work, requiring all hands on deck! The reflections on what went well, and what could be done better next year, begin to ruminate in the minds of many church leaders. Then deeper questions may begin to arise, “How many in the crowd will come back?” “Who will really understand the significance of Jesus’ death and resurrection?” “Will the celebration and energy last?” “Where do we go from here?” “What is the next sermon series?” If you are in church leadership, those thoughts may be the topic of your next staff meeting.

The last Easter sunrise service I was personally involved in took place before the pandemic. The scriptural focus came from Luke 24. The story focuses on two men who were on their way home from Jerusalem to a village called Emmaus, about a seven-mile journey. The scripture doesn’t say much about them except one was named Cleopas. Apparently, they were discussing the events that had just taken place; something about “Jesus of Nazareth, a prophet, powerful in word and deed before God and all the people. We had hoped that he was the one who was going to redeem Israel. The chief priests and our rulers handed him over to be sentenced to death, and he was crucified.”

Our rulers…..redeem Israel. These seem like keywords to me. I’m assuming these men were merely observers of the events. It doesn’t seem likely that they had first-hand experiences with Jesus, not like what Nicodemus, Zacchaeus, Mary, or the disciples had. They may have been fulfilling their religious obligation in observing the Jewish Passover in Jerusalem, and now they were returning home as so many others had. Today, these people would have the codename “Chreasters”, those who come to church on Christmas and Easter.;) As Richard Rohr wrote in his Lenten book, Wondrous Encounters, “We have an amazing capacity to miss the point” when it comes to religion. From the reading in Luke 24, it seems like the two men had missed the point of what just happened in Jerusalem.

But their encounter along the pathway home is the true crux of the story. “Jesus himself came up and walked along with them; but they were kept from recognizing him.” Being the ultimate communicator, Jesus started asking what they were talking about.”What happened? What things?” “They stood still, their faces downcast.” Now, I would assume there were many people on this dusty trail, trying to return to the normalcy and routine of their lives at home. Come on! Monday’s coming! Keep moving! Imagine how awkward stopping and standing still would have been. Did the people behind bump into them? Did they have to stop and go around them as they stood still? We don’t know how long they stood there, dumbfounded. Cleopas asked Jesus, “How could anyone who had been in or around Jerusalem in the last few days not know what had just happened?” The curiosity of Jesus strikes me as both funny and endearing. Here is the central character of the story, acting like a clueless tourist.

This leads me to a little side story about the power of questions. My husband Mark is an executive coach by trade. I marvel at his ability to draw people out. He does this by asking a lot of questions. He may already be able to surmise or predict the answer from the coachee, but he invites the person to share his or her account of the situation first. One of the main pearls of wisdom in coaching is the truth that “the client’s self-discovery is more important than the coach’s expertise”. This is called “appreciative inquiry” in the coaching world.

Jesus practiced appreciative inquiry like no other. In Luke 24. He wanted to hear the men’s perspectives on what had happened in Jerusalem. What was their take? This kind of gracious and respectful information gathering would invite the two men to continue telling their stories. He understood the source of true wholeness and resolution before any words were even uttered, but he practiced asking questions that would unearth the deeper work in the individual in order to reveal Light. We would do well to learn the importance of appreciative inquiry in our politically divided world. Jesus lets their story unfold; and, ironically, Jesus is the centerpiece of their conversation.

The next turn in the conversation is not one that coaches would likely practice today. Jesus called the men foolish and slow to believe! He reminded them of what had been taught in the synagogue. He crushed the seductive belief of the power-hungry: that God would send an earthly hero who would rule in earthly terms, terms that would procure a powerful empire over the existing Roman rule. Jesus showed a different way, the way of love, not political power; he came the way he was predicted to come, as “a man of suffering, familiar with pain; one despised and held in low esteem; oppressed and afflicted, led like a lamb to the slaughter.” (Isaiah 53)

Somehow the men were drawn into the conversation, which resulted in them inviting Jesus to their home. “Stay with us.” So He did. The moment they sat down at a table of food, probably hungry from the seven-mile journey, Jesus offered a prayer of thanks and broke the bread before them. As he offered it to them, the scripture says “Their eyes were opened and they recognized him.” At once Jesus disappeared into thin air.

Ever have an encounter with Jesus that begins a breakthrough in your own heart and life? A “heartburn” in a good way? A time when you realized that Christ came for the brokenhearted and imperfect (in other words, me?) For the men from Emmaus, the encounter with Jesus caused them to get up and return to Jerusalem at once. Seven more miles, now probably walking in darkness. The flame within was what lighted the way for them, back to Jerusalem, where they found the eleven disciples and told them how they recognized Jesus at the moment he broke the bread. They realized the foolishness of their limited thinking about what true power looked like. The something that burned within them was a disruption that broke open their hardened hearts.

And so the same kind of encounter can happen for us with Jesus today if our hearts are hungry for its healing. The teaching pastor at my daughter’s church said a simple truth based on Isaiah 55 that reverberates in my memory regularly: “Our worship should lead to holy disruption.” This truth is not lost on those who know transformation and growth come through suffering. The joy set before Jesus could only come through his broken body, his endurance of the cross. Jesus came to heal what’s broken…..and the acknowledgment of our brokenness is the holy disruption that leads to freedom.

I guess the true question during Lent and at Easter is this: Did it cause a holy disruption in your soul? Did you walk away from yesterday’s service with a little “heartburn”? Did it cause you to want to come back for more than just the good coffee, lively worship band, friendly faces, and comfortable chairs? Easter is about the wondrous encounter, yes, even the amazing disruption, of a Savior who delights in you, calls you beloved and freely forgives. God knows our story, but He wants us to tell Him anyway so that we can find ourselves in His Story. It’s what He died for, and it is His loving presence that will bring you back for more. He longs to hear you say, “Stay with me.”

Painting entitled The Supper at Emmaus by Michelangelo Merisi de Caravaggio (1601) via nationalgallery.org.uk