Cliff Loesch April 6, 2008 Luke 24:13-35 Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us?        What did Santa Claus say when he was walking through the garden?  "Hoe, hoe, hoe."  On a slightly more serious note, there is a story that says that St. Francis was out hoeing his garden one day when someone came up to him and asked, "If you knew you were going to die tonight, what would you do?"  And St. Francis replied, "I would finish hoeing my garden."  His answer surprises us.  We can think of any number of things that we would urgently feel needed to be finished if we knew today was our final day-such as things that must be said to those we love.  Or we could think of many things we'd simply rather do than hoe the garden.  But St. Francis' calm answer-that he would finish hoeing his garden-implies, for one thing, that perhaps he has already been saying those important things to others, and doing the important things all along, so that he doesn't feel an urgency to go out and do what is yet not done.  He's been doing those important things during the normal course of life.  All the urgent things are done-except what he is currently doing.  And this he will finish if possible.  This story may show other things as well: We might see in St. Francis' response the importance of focusing on the task at hand, or the importance of completing a task.  We may see the value of manual labor, or we may rethink what activities truly bring us joy, or we may see the importance of the ordinary things in life.  And indeed, the way God often reveals himself in the ordinary is part of what I want to say today.        In the passage that Paul read this morning from Luke 24, we see two men walking on the road to Emmaus sometime after Jesus' death.  And they seem somewhat dejected.  They are joined on the trip by someone they do not recognize and recount all the events of the past few days.  I see this journey to Emmaus as a journey from despair to hope.  In verse 21 they said, "But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel."  They give the impression that things were definitely not turning out the way they hoped.  Perhaps despair is too strong a word-but they definitely begin with a sense of disappointment.  Yet the strange things they have been hearing have captured their attention.  They tell about the reports of some of the women from their group-how they had visited the tomb and saw a vision of angels who said that Jesus was alive.  Indeed these men on the road reported that others had gone to the tomb and looked after hearing what the women said, and in fact the body was not there.  So they started their journey in disappointment, but now there is a spark of hope.  Then the unknown man traveling with them begins to talk.  And he gives them a new and fresh perspective on the whole thing and they find what he has to say a little inspiring-so through his words comes yet another little spark of hope.  When it is time to part ways, they are not ready to end this hope-filled encounter and they invite the man to stay there with them.  And it was that evening as they were breaking bread together that they were hit with yet another ray of hope.  They realized that it was Christ who was there with them.         As I've already mentioned, I see this journey to Emmaus in stages-beginning with disappointment or even despair.  Then the men recall some rumors they've heard that give them a glimmer of hope.  Then the man who just showed up talks to them and inspires them with yet even more hope.  Then in the village of Emmaus through the ordinary act of breaking bread together, they are filled with hope as they recognize Christ among them.  Afterward they looked back on all these events and 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?"  And I would say that this "burning within" is a way of describing their movement from despair to hope.  They started their journey in the darkness of disappointment or despair.  As they began to recall and then to hear words of hope, their hearts began to resonate with the desire for hope, the desire to hear good news in the midst of all the bad.  The burning within that they recognized was their strong desire for hope.  And all the while, hope was growing within them even though they didn't realize it until later.        Yet the part I want to highlight most from this story is the way Christ revealed himself through the ordinary act of sharing a meal together.  It's interesting to me than on this journey they walked along that seven-mile journey with Jesus for a couple of hours or more-but it wasn't until later, toward the end of their time together, that they recognized that Christ had actually been with them the whole time.  And this is another point that I want to highlight-that in our lives it often happens the same way.  We go along our life's journey (our own journey from despair to hope) yet so often it is later that we look back over all that has happened and then finally see that, yes, Christ was with us; Christ has been with us this whole time.  And Christ reveals himself to us in many ways-but don't forget that it may be through the ordinary that Christ makes himself known: through the breaking of bread, through hoeing your garden, through any number of the ordinary activities of life.        I realize I'm juggling two metaphors this morning: the journey and the garden.  But going back and thinking about St. Francis hoeing his garden makes me ask more questions-like when is the right time for planting seeds?  Well, it's April.  The time is now.  But this isn't the only time for planting.  I'm also glad that LaVonna planted some bulbs last fall.  We have tulips blooming right now.  So when is the right time to plant some seeds of hope?  Right now.  And anytime.        But shifting back to the journey, I think I could go on and on about this walk to Emmaus, and the way that, for me, it seems like a journey toward hope.  I see in this short account (for one thing) the power of storytelling.  As they recounted all the things that had happened and all they had heard-that is, as they told their story-they began to have hope.  I also see the power of education represented in this passage.  As Jesus explained the scriptures to them in ways they had never imagined before, they began to be filled with hope.  And of course, I see the power of friendship.  I suspect that as they simply sought to spend more time together their despair began to diminish and their hope grew.  And as I have already mentioned, this passage reminds us how Christ often shows up through the ordinary.        As I look at the passage, I also realize that all of us are on our own journey of hope.  It's why we sometimes decide to make a fresh start; it's why we decide to take control of our lives; it's why we get an education; it's why we look for new opportunities; it's why we try to help make the world a better place; it's why we work for peace; it's why we nurture relationships with others; it's why we get up in the morning.  The ordinary can be consuming.  It can be drudgery.  Some might say we don't get out of bed in the morning because of hope.  We get up because we have to.  Yet at some level, it's all about hope-that journey of hope where we try to move forward out of disappointment or despair; that journey where we try to see things in a new light-and friends, this is a journey toward the recognition of the presence of Christ.  Christ involved all along the way.  Christ seen.  Christ unseen.  Christ calling.  Christ embracing.  I pray that you will soon be able to see the many ways that Christ is with you.