13 Now on that same day two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem, 14 and talking with each other about all these things that had happened. 15 While they were talking and discussing, Jesus himself came near and went with them, 16 but their eyes were kept from recognizing him. 17 And he said to them, "What are you discussing with each other while you walk along?" They stood still, looking sad. 18 Then one of them, whose name was Cleopas, answered him, "Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have taken place there in these days?" 19 He asked them, "What things?" They replied, "The things about Jesus of Nazareth, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, 20 and how our chief priests and leaders handed him over to be condemned to death and crucified him. 21 But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel. Yes, and besides all this, it is now the third day since these things took place. 22 Moreover, some women of our group astounded us. They were at the tomb early this morning, 23 and when they did not find his body there, they came back and told us that they had indeed seen a vision of angels who said that he was alive. 24 Some of those who were with us went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said; but they did not see him." 25 Then he said to them, "Oh, how foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have declared! 26 Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into his glory?" 27 Then beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them the things about himself in all the scriptures. 28 As they came near the village to which they were going, he walked ahead as if he were going on. 29 But they urged him strongly, saying, "Stay with us, because it is almost evening and the day is now nearly over." So he went in to stay with them. 30 When he was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. 31 Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him; and he vanished from their sight. 32 They said to each other, "Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?" 33 That same hour they got up and returned to Jerusalem; and they found the eleven and their companions gathered together. 34 They were saying, "The Lord has risen indeed, and he has appeared to Simon!" 35 Then they told what had happened on the road, and how he had been made known to them in the breaking of the bread.

So, what about you?  Would you have recognized Jesus if you had met him on the road to Emmaus?   Would you have been bamboozled?  How could his followers, who had spent so much time with Jesus, have been fooled?  I used to think that the reason that they didn’t recognize Jesus was that Jesus used some sort of magic on them, or some sort of Jedi mind-trick, that kept them from recognizing him.  I’m not so sure of that anymore.  I now believe that they didn’t recognize Jesus because they weren’t expecting to see Jesus.  To them he was dead.  And even though they had heard the women say that Jesus was alive, they didn’t actually believe or expect to be talking with Jesus.  And the fact is, if you don’t expect to see Jesus, it’s hard to recognize him.  That was true then.  It’s true now.   

How often do you think Jesus talks with us and we don’t recognize him?  Part of Christian belief is not just that Jesus lived 2000 years ago, but that he also is alive today.  He is the incarnation of God then and now.  But we don’t necessarily experience it.  Let me show you what I mean.   A long time ago there was an ancient village on the edge of a plain.  It was a bustling town because of its location.  It was right along the way of a major trade route, and so people from all over the world made their way to this town.  It was also renowned the world over for its hospitality and willingness to give sanctuary to any and all fugitives. 

One day, a scraggly traveler showed up at the village gates.  He said that he was a fugitive unjustly condemned, and that he needed sanctuary.  Immediately the people took him in, fed him, cleaned him, and gave him new clothes.  That evening, a small army showed up at the gates, demanding that the traveler be handed over to them.  If they didn’t, the army would kill all in the town. 

The townspeople were in a panic.  What should they do?  If they turned the man over, they would be betraying their ages old tradition of giving sanctuary to fugitives, and this fugitive would certainly be killed.  If they didn’t turn him over, they might be killed.  They went to the priests and the ministers for guidance, who spent the night searching for answers in sacred scripture.  Eventually they found a passage that seemed to answer their questions.  It suggested that the fate of the many was much more important than the fate of the one.  So the next morning, following the wisdom of that scripture, they turned the man over to the army.  The man was taken a little ways outside of the city, beaten, and then killed. 

That evening, as the government officials, priests, and ministers were quietly celebrating their wisdom which allowed their town to be spared, an angel appeared in their midst and said, “What have you done?  You turned the messiah over to the evil One.  He came to you for protection, and you abandoned him!”  Everyone was dismayed.  They responded, “But how were we to know?  We consulted Holy Scripture.  We did the best we could.”  The angel said to them, “If only you would have spent time with him, looked into his eyes, and listened to his words, you would have known.  But you didn’t.  You looked for a way out instead of the Messiah’s guidance.”

The people of that town didn’t recognize Christ because their minds were filled with fear rather than faith.  This is such a common problem.  When are we the least likely to hear God’s voice?  It’s when we are in crisis and give in to fear and anxiety, while also trying to control the outcome.  We call on God, but we don’t listen because we’ve already decided what God’s answer should be.  And if we don’t get what we want, we complain that God doesn’t listen to us.  So we pray, we implore God, but we don’t really listen.  We try so hard to use our heads in figuring out what God must want that we completely shut off our hearts, and when we shut off our heart we can’t find God.  But if we are willing to live out of the heart, it’s amazing how much of God we can find everywhere. 

Mother Teresa was able to find God everywhere because she lived out of her heart.  She used to say that she recognized Jesus in the faces of the poor all around her.  I’m pretty sure that most people think that she was simply offering some sort of spiritual platitude when she said that, but I don’t.  I think that she was being serious.  She had a highly attuned sense of the Spirit, even if she struggled at times in her faith. 

We have a hard time seeing Jesus in the faces of each other, let alone the poor, the mentally ill, the hurting, or anyone in the margins.  Why?  Because our culture teaches us not to.  To see Christ in the poor, we have to develop a deep sense of compassion and love for all people, especially those who make us uncomfortable.  That’s hard for us to do. To see Christ in the poor also means serving the poor.  It means looking beyond their condition and seeing them with love. 

We have trouble seeing Jesus in the poor because we have a hard time seeing Jesus in each other.  Yet if we are to discover Christ today, we have to start with where he is, and scripture tells us that he is in the church, in each other, and in us.  Let me give you an example.  Years ago there was a small monastery in the mountains of France.  It once had been the center of inspiration for pilgrims and seekers yearning for God.  People came from all over Europe to discover God in the monastery.  But then it changed.  It became proud.  The brothers took themselves too seriously.  Instead of being truly humble, they became proud of their humility.  So began their decline.  Fewer and fewer pilgrims sought their wisdom, and few monks joined their ranks.  They became old.  They became rigid.  They worshiped their past.  They were spiritually dead and physically dying.  In another generation their members would be dead and they would be no more. 

One day a scraggly stranger came to their door.  He smiled a toothless smile as he asked for a place to rest for the night.  He was invited in.  The monks thoroughly enjoyed his presence at dinner and sensed a spiritual depth about him, even if he was rough and smelly on the outside.
The next morning, as he was leaving, he profusely thanked the abbot.  Taking the abbot’s hand, he leaned forward, and said in a soft whisper,  “I need to tell you a secret, one that God has given me permission to tell you.  Christ is here in your midst.  The messiah is masquerading as one of your brothers.”  The abbot was shocked:  “The messiah?  Here?  In this place?  No, it isn’t possible!” 

He told the other brothers what the stranger had said.  They also couldn’t believe it.  Then they began to think about it.  Could it be brother Joseph?  No, he’s too selfish.  Could it be brother John?  No, he’s much too strange.  Is it brother Bernard?  No, he’s too clumsy.  No matter whom they thought of, they couldn’t imagine that brother being the messiah.  Still, what if the stranger was right?  A thought occurred to them. What if brother Joseph is really Christ, and just pretending to be selfish?  What if Christ is brother John, and he is just pretending to be strange?  What if Christ is brother Bernard, and just pretending to be clumsy?  So they started to treat each other as though each one was possibly Christ, lest Christ really be one of them.  As they did, the monastery changed.  They began to focus more deeply on God during worship, lest Jesus catch them slumbering.  They read scripture with a renewed fervor, lest Christ catch them daydreaming.  As they did, they grew spiritually.  Their prayers took on a new life.  So did their teaching and service.  And people noticed.  Soon pilgrims and seekers came to their doors to learn from their wisdom.  New monks joined their ranks to learn the spiritual secrets.  They became alive once again, and once again they became a center of spiritual life for all of Europe.  They became alive to Christ. 

Often we don’t see Christ in the world because he is embodied in faces that are far too familiar.  We don’t always hear how Christ may be speaking to us through children, our friends, our parents, our spouses, music, television, books, and even pastors (the truth is that you can get too used to our voices so that over time it’s easy to tune out those times that Christ is speaking through us J)

C. S.  Lewis talked about the inability to see Christ in each other in his book, The Screwtape Letters.  He said that even though we, as a church, are called to see Christ in each other, we don’t.  We sit in the pews, look at our neighbors, and we see each others’ faults.  We find it so much easier to see what is wrong in each other, not what’s right.  As a result we have a hard time seeing Christ in each other.  And to see Christ we have to be able to see each other’s gifts.  We have to approach life with a sense of “holy anticipation.”  This means that we begin to anticipate Christ’s presence everywhere.  It’s the difference between having what I call a crossed-arm attitude verses an open-armed anticipation.  Many of us have a cross-armed attitude in which we dare people to prove that Christ can be found today.  We almost dare people to try and get past our armor of doubt, skepticism, and cynicism.  But when we have an open-armed attitude, we embrace the possibility of God in Christ being everywhere, for this is what true Christian belief is.  True Christian belief is that God is incarnated in everything, for Christ is the incarnation of God, and all we have to do is to be willing to let Christ become awakened and present in our midst to find God. 

Here’s my point.  The incarnation of Christ is all around us.  We can only hear Christ if our love is stronger than our egos.We can only discover Christ if we want to serve more than be served.  We can only see Christ before us if our hope outweighs our doubt.  We can only touch Christ if our gratitude for life is deeper than our skepticism about life and people.  We can only discover Christ if our hearts are as strong as our minds.