Rabbi Jesus

How Big Is Our Table?

That very day, the first day of the week, two of Jesus’ disciples were going to a village seven miles from Jerusalem called Emmaus, and they were conversing about all the things that had occurred. And it happened that while they were conversing and debating, Jesus himself drew near and walked with them, but their eyes were prevented from recognizing him.” (Luke 24.13-14)

It is often said that variety is the spice of life. We may have to believe the same thing when it comes to the resurrection appearances of the Risen Lord. If anything, there was variety, at least when presented through the eyes of the evangelists. Mark, the first evangelist, seems to leave everything up in the air after the women discover the empty tomb. In what most scholars consider his original ending, a young man clothed in a white robe and sitting inside the tomb instructs the women to tell the disciples that they should go to Galilee where they will see the Lord. 

A longer ending, as it is called, often thought to have been added to the original by a later writer because of some dissatisfaction with how Mark ended his gospel, offers several appearances, one to Mary Magdalen, another to two disciples, and then a third to the eleven when they were at table, the location left unspecified.

Matthew, as we saw a few weeks ago, has the Risen Lord appear to the women as they leave the tomb on their way to inform the disciples that they found the burial place empty. He tells the women to tell the eleven to go to Galilee, where he subsequently appears to them and commissions them to “go to the nations.”

John’s version of events, some of which we saw last week, has an appearance to Mary Magdala in the garden outside the tomb, followed by appearances later that evening to the disciples–less Thomas–and again the next week, Thomas now present. These appearances take place in Jerusalem. At some point, an epilogue was added to the original text. In it, an appearance occurs at the Sea of Galilee, where the Risen Lord awaits the fishermen on the shore, having prepared a breakfast for them.

Today, we get a part of Luke’s version of events. As he tells the story, the women are greeted at the empty tomb by two men in dazzling garments who explain to them that the one they seek has been raised from the dead. The women tell the other disciples who conclude that “their story seemed like nonsense and did not believe it.” As we just heard, later that day, the Risen Lord appears to two of his followers as they make their way to a nearby town called Emmaus. It takes a while for them to recognize him, but when they do, they return to Jerusalem to tell the eleven that they have seen the Lord.

As they’re explaining what they had seen, the Risen Lord “stood in their midst.” He instructs the eleven to look at his hands and his feet and “touch me and see.” Then he asks them for something to eat. Luke says “he took a piece of baked fish and ate it in front of them.” Having eaten, he leads them to Bethany and ascends into the high heavens.

If that were not enough variety, Luke, in his second volume that we know as Acts of the Apostles, says that the Risen Lord “appeared to the apostles during forty days,” instructing them to stay in Jerusalem, and then ascending to heaven. In other words, according to Luke, in both his gospel and in his second volume, none of the appearances occurred in Galilee, unlike Matthew and John (at least in the epilogue). And Mark, in the longer ending, suggests that the three appearances occurred in or around Jerusalem, more in line with Luke.

And, since we like variety, we should add into the mix Paul’s version of the post-resurrection appearances that he offers us in his First Letter to the Corinthians in which he says that the Risen Lord “appeared to Cephas, then to the Twelve. After that, he appeared to more than five hundred brothers at once . . After that he appeared to James, then to all the apostles. And last of all, he appeared to me.” 

There is no point in trying to reconcile the differences. They are what they are. The differences, in my opinion, are better explained by the evangelists taking some artistic license with the actual events to conform them to their intended purpose. So, for example, Luke has his gospel structured around Rabbi Jesus’ move to Jerusalem, the center of Judaism. 

For his second volume, he wants the disciples in Jerusalem for Pentecost, after which they will move outwardly proclaiming the good news, the Acts ending with Paul in Rome, the center of the world, at least in the minds of the people of those times. So, there is an inward movement towards Jerusalem in the first volume and an outward movement towards Rome in the second volume.

Regardless of how one chooses to interpret the variations in the different accounts, it is more important, in my opinion, to emphasize the similarities because, in the end, all the texts are attempting to explain the mystery of the resurrection, the belief that the one who had been crucified and died was, miraculously, resurrected and lived again. And the evangelists offer varying accounts of how that happened, providing their readers with instances of the appearance of the Risen Lord.

Nevertheless, all of the evangelists are making the same point. The Risen Lord revealed himself to his followers. The how, the when, and the where are in service of that greater truth. The One who was dead lives again. And he proves it to his followers in multiple ways, sometimes showing them his wounds, sometimes eating a meal with them, other times explaining to them why he had to suffer and to die. 

At the end of the day, they saw, they believed, and followed his instruction to share the good news with others so that his message might continue to be heard and his call to live in the world in a radically new way might be followed, at least by the few and the brave who wanted something different, something better for the world.

Today’s selection, as we see, comes from Luke’s version, specifically the appearance of the Risen Lord to two disciples on their way to Emmaus. While each of the post-resurrection appearances offers the listener something important, the story of the walk to Emmaus truly is one of the most beautiful of these appearances, at least in my mind.

Luke tells us that one of them is named Cleopas. It is the only place in the scriptures where the name is mentioned. We must assume he belongs in a wider circle of the followers of Rabbi Jesus beyond the Twelve. Some scholars argue that the second person in the story is Cleopas’s wife, that argument based on the two of them offering their traveling companion something to eat in their home at the end of their journey.

Regardless, the overall story of the walk to Emmaus tells us again that the Risen Lord reveals himself to believers in any number of ways. Luke makes clear that the pair of disciples have no clue who Jesus is when he joins them on the road. He simply says, “It happened, while they talked and questioned together, that Jesus himself came near, and went with them. But their eyes were kept from recognizing him.”  

After Jesus joins the pair, he asks them what they are talking about and why they are sad. Cleopas answers, telling him that they were talking about “the things which have happened here in these days.” Jesus inquires, “What things?” Cleopas, amazed that Jesus doesn’t know all the stir that has taken place in Jerusalem, explains that a mighty prophet named Jesus was delivered up to the chief priests and rulers and was condemned to death, and crucified.

Cleopas is happy to share more of the story, telling the stranger that earlier in the day some women informed them that angels had told them that Jesus had arisen from the grave, but they didn’t see him with their own eyes. So, they don’t know what to believe and what to think. Jesus, still unknown to them, calls them foolish men and slow of heart. He then goes to great length to explain to them that prophets almost always end up dead. He proceeds to offer examples from the Hebrew scriptures that explain the whys and wherefores of this reality.

So, here is the first effort on his part to reveal himself to them, by way of the old scriptures. They move ahead with their travels and evening draws near, whereupon the pair extends an invitation to their traveling companion to join them for a meal and for lodging. Many scholars like to see this invitation as similar to Abraham’s offering food to the angels who visited him, although he is unaware of who they really are.

Jesus accepts the invitation and joins them at the table for a meal. It is there that their eyes are opened. As Luke tells us, “It happened that when he had sat down at table with them, Jesus took the bread and gave thanks. Breaking it, he gave it to them. Their eyes were opened and they recognized him.” Interestingly, these words–sat, took, gave thanks, broke and gave bread–are the same words used at the Last Supper. Who knows? Maybe they were at the Last Supper and, hearing the same words, suddenly realized who it was with them.

Luke’s point is clear enough. The Risen Lord revealed himself in the breaking of the bread, which, as we know, becomes the bedrock of the Christian belief in the continued presence of the Risen Lord, that he is found whenever the same occurs, when people sit at table, take bread, give thanks, break it, and share it. Known subsequently as the celebration of the Eucharist, it is found here as surely as it was found at the Last Supper.

So, Luke, in this beautiful story, has given us any number of ways that the Risen Lord revealed himself: in the scriptures, in a circumstance of hospitality, in sitting together at a table, and finally in sharing bread that has been broken and passed from one to the other. Interestingly, after he suddenly disappears and the two hurriedly return to Jerusalem to tell the others of his appearance to them, he  shows himself to all in the room while “they were still speaking.” 

The reaction, of course, is not unexpected. They thought they were seeing a ghost. So, he tells them to “look at my hands and my feet, touch me and see, because a ghost does not have flesh and bones.” Then he asks them for something to eat, furthering the case that he isn’t some ghost out to haunt them. He is the one whom they called Rabbi, the one whom they followed to Jerusalem, and the one who was crucified. Now, he lives and he stands among them again.

For my part, the thing that always stands out in the story of the Emmaus disciples is the table fellowship. It is only when they sit down at a table with their traveling companion and share a meal with him that they suddenly see who they have with them. That simple, everyday occurrence allows them to have their eyes opened. 

Of course, it carries the overtones of the many meals that Rabbi Jesus shared with people during his public ministry, particularly those meals with people that were shunned and labeled sinners. Each of the synoptic gospels has the Pharisees say of Rabbi Jesus, “Look, he eats with sinners!” That is proof enough for them that he is not a holy man himself, not someone sent by God.

The irony, of course, is that the same means that sinners come to see that he is sent by God–his openness and his embrace of them at table–is the same means by which the Pharisees come to see he is not a prophet or handpicked by the Most High God. Apparently, those whose eyes are opened by the generosity and outpouring of love see someone divine in their midst, while those whose eyes are closed to the open embrace of one and all by Jesus cannot find anything divine about him.

I see no coincidence here in Luke’s account of the Emmaus disciples. He has continually shown us the same throughout the gospel, that Rabbi Jesus sat down and ate with outcasts and sinners, and in this openness to the least, to the last, and to the lost, revealed to them the face of the living God, a God of mercy, of compassion, and of immense love.

So, what does the Emmaus story say to us? That, of course, is the question that we want to answer because if we are to find the Risen Lord in our midst, then we have to figure out where he wants to reveal himself to us. And the Emmaus story, for one, seems to insist that the best place to find the continued presence of the Lord is in a community where all are seen as brothers and sisters, none greater than another.

Or, as Luke describes that community in Acts of the Apostles, “The community of believers was of one heart and mind, and no one claimed that any of his possessions was his own, but they had everything in common.” It is very close to the same thing that Rabbi Jesus says in the gospel of Matthew when he speaks these words, “Where two or three are gathered in my name, there I am in their midst.” So, the texts seem to agree–the Lord is revealed to us when we’re able to sit down at table with each other, all rancor and discord set aside, and we share a meal, everybody getting something to eat, nobody hoarding the food, nobody passing judgment on others.

The opposite is just as true. We’re never going to find the presence of the Lord when we refuse to associate with others whom we consider different or lesser than ourselves, when we ostracize and criticize people we don’t like, when we hold ourselves as superior to those we consider our inferiors. We can be certain that the divine presence isn’t going to darken the door in such circumstances of inhospitality and inhumanity. 

Fool ourselves as much as we want, tell ourselves whatever lie we want to believe, but if we can’t sit down at table, share what we have with others, especially those less fortunate and those most rejected, and find common ground with the person across the table from us, then we’re never going to find Jesus within a mile of us. The gospel texts are clear. He ate with sinners. He did it before he died. He did it after he arose from the grave. And, if we want any chance to find him in our midst, then, in all likelihood, we’re going to have to get a much bigger table than the one we’re currently using.

–Jeremy Myers