Together on the Road | 8/30/26
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When have you been so overwhelmed by grief, uncertainty, or disappointment that it became difficult to notice God’s presence with you?
If you could sit with Jesus and honestly answer the question, “What has happened?” what would you want to tell him?
What expectations about God, faith, or your future have been challenged or changed by something you’ve experienced?
Where do you see small signs of hope around you right now that you might have overlooked before?
Who are the people whose hope strengthens your own, and how might you become a source of hope for someone else?
Transcript:
Friends, have you ever been to a parking lot meeting? You know those meetings, don't you? They're the meeting that takes place after the official meeting. It's the impromptu space after all the official business has been concluded — or so you think — and the conversation continues to flow out into the parking lot. Experiences continue to be shared. It's the southern goodbye of meetings that takes on a whole life of its own. And there's something magical about these auxiliary meetings where everything and nothing gets solved at all.
Well, this phenomenon did not originate when parking lots started showing up in our lives. And it didn't originate in the South either. In fact, I think it's kind of biblical. There's a story I'll share with you in just a moment — you actually know the story, most of you. It takes place after Jesus's death, after all of the disciples — both the original eleven and all of the ones who came into Jerusalem for this season — had all been gathered together in the moments after Jesus's death, in the days that followed. But then they began to disperse. This story is when two disciples found themselves on the road to Emmaus, where they held their very own impromptu conversation.
Like I said, it's very familiar to many of us, especially because I just preached on this back in May. So we're bringing it back because I think it's important. This morning, I invite us to hear it in a different way. As I share from the Message paraphrase, here are these words from the Gospel of Luke.
That same day, two of them were walking to the village Emmaus, about seven miles out of Jerusalem. They were deep in conversation, going over all the things that had happened. In the middle of their talk and their questions, Jesus came up and walked along with them, but they were not able to recognize who he was. Jesus asked, "What is this you're discussing so intensely as you walk along?" They just stood there, long-faced, like they had lost their best friend. Then one of them, his name was Cleopas, said, "Are you the only one in Jerusalem who hasn't heard what's happened during the last few days?" Jesus responded, "What has happened?" The disciples said, "The things that happened to Jesus the Nazarene. He was a man of God, a prophet, dynamic in both work and word, blessed by both God and all the people. Then our high priests and leaders betrayed him, got him sentenced to death, and crucified him. We had hoped — our hopes were up — that he was the one, the one about to deliver Israel. And it is now the third day since it happened. But now some of our women have completely confused us. Earlier this morning they were at the tomb and couldn't find his body. They came back to us with a story that they had seen a vision of angels who said he was alive. Some of our friends went off to the tomb to check and found it empty, just as the women said. But they didn't see Jesus." Then he said to them, "So thick-headed, so slow-hearted. Why can't you simply believe all that the prophets said? Don't you see that these things had to happen, that the Messiah had to suffer and only then enter into his glory?" Then he started at the beginning, with the books of Moses, and went on through all the prophets, pointing out everything in the scriptures that referred to himself. They came to the edge of the village where they were headed. Jesus acted as if he were going on, but the disciples pressed him, "Stay and have supper with us. It's nearly evening, the day is done." So Jesus went in with them. And here's what happened. Jesus sat down at the table with them. Taking the bread, he blessed it, broke it, and gave it to them. At that moment, open-eyed, wide-eyed, they recognized him — and then he disappeared.
This is the Word of God for us, the people of God. And we say together, thanks be to God. Will you pray with me?
O God, would you open our eyes like you opened the eyes of the disciples that day? Might we catch a glimpse of the risen Christ among us now, by your Holy Spirit? May we find a glimmer of hope that will stir within us, that we might share with the world. In Christ's name we pray. Amen.
How do you even begin to make a journey like that, after experiencing a whole lifetime of grief and sorrow and trauma over the course of just a few short days? We don't know how these disciples found their way to Jerusalem or how they first came to encounter Jesus. But we know that they were not part of the original group of disciples that Jesus journeyed with through the course of his ministry on earth. So maybe they first encountered Jesus in their hometowns after hearing a word of hope, and they hungered for more, so they journeyed to Jerusalem for the season of Passover, knowing that they would see the teacher again there. Or maybe they got caught up in the loud shouts of hosannas on that Sunday, and by the grace of God and connections with others, did not join the chant of death wishes on Friday, but instead mourned in fear with all the other disciples.
We don't know the story of these two disciples, but we know that in just three days' time, their lives changed entirely in a way that they were not expecting. So as their feet met the dust and the dirt of the road out of Jerusalem, they began to process together — what on earth just took place? Together, they hashed out the disbelief, the shock, the grief. They tried to make sense of what they expected the Messiah to be, as they faced a now very unknown future.
It's no surprise that they didn't recognize Jesus. They were blinded by all that grief and sorrow and confusion. I'm sure there have been moments in your lives that you have been so present to the present experience of grief or pain that the rest of the world seemed to just blur away. We know how this feels — to be facing down a future that once seemed so very certain, to make the journey from what once was to what will be in the future. And that space in the middle can feel daunting and endless, the journey a thousand miles long with no end in sight.
When we read this story together, we often think that we know where to find the good news in this story. Of course, it's going to lie at the very end — the writing was on the wall for all of us when we knew some information as the readers that the disciples did not. The good news is that big reveal at the end, when Jesus breaks the bread and the disciples' eyes were opened.
But I don't believe that's the only good news in this story. I think the good news also is when Jesus shows up at the very beginning of the story. He breaks into this conversation with his unassuming question, "What has happened?" And in doing so, he gives these disciples a space to make meaning of the experiences that just happened, to name the shattered expectations, the raw emotions, and the overwhelming grief. But then he doesn't leave them. He doesn't turn away and go his own way. He stays present. He walks with them. And in doing so, he reinterprets their old patterns of thinking to help them step into what will be in the future for them.
The good news is that Jesus — the resurrected Christ — shows up, even when those disciples did not recognize him. Friends, we believe in a God who chooses to show up in our story. We believe that Christ is present always, by the gift of the Holy Spirit. But when we are caught up in the chaos of our own lives, when we are caught up in our journey from what once was to some unknown thing in the future that will be, sometimes we miss it. Sometimes we cannot and do not perceive the presence of Christ that is already on the journey with us.
So this morning I'm wondering — what does it look like? What does Christ's presence with us look like right here and now? How do we identify his presence with us through whatever it is that we are presently experiencing?
When I think of long journeys towards something new, I often think about the civil rights movement of the 1960s — the long, slow, arduous work of transformation and change. I think of the courage and the strength it took for communities and persons of color to rise up in the face of hatred and bigotry and injustice. It was a journey of struggle. It is a journey of struggle. Two of the many leaders of that movement were Rosemarie and Vincent Harding. They relocated to the Atlanta area from Chicago in 1961 so that they could be directly involved in the freedom struggle at the time. Together, they founded the Mennonite House in Atlanta that provided hospitality and a place for leaders to organize. Then, in the late 1970s and early 1980s, they moved to Pennsylvania and worked at the Pendle Hill Quaker Study Center, and there they taught courses on the intersection between faith and social justice work — literally answering the question, "Where does the divine show up in the midst of struggle?"
So in speaking about how she experienced the power of the Holy Spirit in their journey toward equality for all people, Rosemarie said this: "There was an energy moving in those times, something other than just sit-ins and voter registration and freedom schools, something represented by these single efforts, but broader. As I traveled around the country in the sixties, it seemed to me that the nation, from the largest community to the smallest, was permeated with hope — the idea that people can bring about transformation, that what we do matters, even in the struggle."
Rosemarie picked up a thread of hope that connected people and communities to the work of equality. For Rosemarie, hope was the very tangible presence of the risen Christ on that journey. Hope was how Christ chose to show up for them.
You know, hope seems to be something so small and so insignificant in today's world. It almost feels like a buzzword that people read and toss out. But when your small act of hope is bound together with someone else's small ounce of hope, and another's and another's and another's and another's — when they're all connected — the power of hope is unstoppable.
I think we as a staff team, in the recent weeks, have experienced what that ounce of hope can feel like connected to others. And I think you might have felt it too. You figured out that Charlie's a pretty cool dude, right? Yes, he is. And in one of those onboarding sessions that we had with our staff team, Charlie was asked if there was any hope — which might seem like an odd question at first. But we as a church and a staff team have weathered through lots of difficult seasons over the last several years. Disaffiliation, polarizing politics both nationally and globally, the COVID-19 pandemic, the constant barrage of soul-sucking news cycles that hit over and over again — it feels hopeless at times for all of us. And on the other side, the staff, just like all of us, wonder where hope is. And so we asked, as a staff team together, "Is there any hope?"
Charlie's response will be one that I will carry with me for the rest of my career. He said, "Of course there's hope. Friends, we believe in Jesus Christ, the resurrected Lord, and where Christ is, there is always, always hope. Where there is Christ, there is always hope."
So I wonder if those two disciples that were walking on the road to Emmaus were feeling that sense of hope as Jesus was reinterpreting the scriptures for them. As Jesus deconstructed their old patterns of thinking and understanding about the promise of the Messiah, and found the words of the prophets to speak about his own life, Jesus retold his own story with this new foundational understanding of Christ with them. I wonder if hope grew for those two disciples as they walked step by step with Jesus.
Hope can grow for us too. And you know, friends, if you took a moment to pause and to take a look at what is happening in and through the life of this church — your church, our church together — I do believe hope will spring up in you too. Here are some examples.
Hope shows up when a bunch of young adults and their children gather at ever-expanding tables at One Love Karaoke Night on a Tuesday night. Hope shows up when we hear a child shout, "I'm here!" as they are making their way to the CHEERS after-school program on Wednesdays, and then the staff person that hears them first responding with, "We are so glad that you are here." You cannot help but feel hope arise when you see forty teenagers on a wild goose chase on our campus — which is our scavenger hunt to help them learn their church home. And this is a picture of a really fun game of "the floor is lava" in the youth office during this time. That looks like hope to me. Hope is when 170 of us gather in one place to eat some really good spaghetti and play some intense rounds of bingo. Hope is cultivated when we are able to offer financial resources to someone like Chef Carl, who in his own words longs to bring hope back to East Gainesville through nutritional education and awareness programs. Hope looks like an opportunity to learn about how poverty intersects with racism through the racial wealth gap event that we are hosting at our Faith Mission campus — if you're interested in learning more, please sign up, sign-ups are happening right now. Hope also looks like a team of preachers who have heard a call to preach and to teach, and are navigating what it looks like to discern a call to ministry at our Wednesday night 6:35 worship service. Every Wednesday, we have the opportunity to help someone discern a call to ministry. Chase is back there raising his hand. That feeling — that feeling of life and new possibilities — that is hope springing up. That is Christ showing up on our journey together here.
Because the truth has been and always will be that we are not walking this journey of life and of faith alone. Where there is hope, there is Jesus, and where there is Jesus, there is always, always hope. Christ was present at the very beginning, Christ is present right now, and Christ will be with us as we journey toward the future together. But sometimes we have to pause and to tune our hearts to where hope is, to recognize the very real presence of Christ among us every step of the way, even when we feel like we are too overwhelmed to take that pause and to notice.
I invite you to take a moment to close your eyes with me this morning. Where are you experiencing hope today? Picture that source of hope. Where has the seed of hope grown within your heart, from the very beginning that brought you to this very moment?
Friends, that is where Christ is. And where there is Christ, there is always hope. And where Christ is present, we can face the future together in the abundance of Christ's hope.
Amen.