Do You Have Heartburn?

Most of the time, life unfolds without any surprises.  There is a routine to the days and to the events that surround us.  And yet, in the past two weeks, we have seen events of international significance take place at such a pace that it has been almost impossible for the news media to provide sufficient coverage in the brief 30 minutes that they have each evening.  The death of Pope John Paul II is certainly one of those events and the one that has received the most coverage.  News coverage of the wedding of the future king and queen of England has definitely been impacted by death of this man who has been the leader of the world’s Roman Catholic population for the past twenty-six years.  Almost totally lost was the tiny report of the death of Prince Ranier of Monaco, who ruled his country for over fifty years and left a legacy much larger than his tiny kingdom, which is smaller than Central Park in New York City.  Even people who do not normally watch the news have been watching these events unfold… and wondering how long it will be before life returns to normal.

            In the church year, life generally returns to normal after Easter.  Lent provides a special time of worship and prayer that has an intensity not matched by any other time of the year. It all builds to a climax at Easter, when we put everything we have into celebrating Christ’s resurrection.  And then, choir, choir director, Sunday School teachers, pastor, and others who have been putting in extra time on church activities all breathe a collective sigh of relief as their lives return to “normal.”  I spent some time this week wondering what “normal” means… for the Church… for you and me and millions of other Christians around the world… and whether the momentous events of Lent and Easter have a lasting impact.  What was that first Easter like for the disciples and how soon did their lives return to normal… or did they?

Normal, for me, means “predictable” … finding my way back to patterns and routines that have a comfortable sameness.  One of those routines is my daily walk with Kathy Smith around Jaycee Park.  We try to walk every day.  Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, we walk at six o’clock in the morning.  Yes, it is still dark when we begin.  You are welcome to join us if you are up at that hour.  Our goal is to walk six laps in less than 90 minutes… and, on a good day, we can finish our six laps in about 75 minutes.  We usually walk three laps in one direction and then three laps in the opposite direction… just so the scenery will change a little.  There is a sameness to that, too.  There are some very interesting people on that path around the park… some we know… most we don’t.  If we change directions, we meet different people on the path.  Now, there is a little bush directly across from the church parking lot that we touch before changing directions… and when we end our laps.  That’s just to keep us from cutting corners and shortening our walk.  Most days, we clip along at a pretty good pace, but sometimes … like yesterday… when the wind blows so strongly that it slows us down.  And there are days when that walk seems as long as the walk to Emmaus must have seemed to the two disciples on that Easter afternoon.

Cleopus and his companion set out for home that afternoon walking.  They must have made that journey many times before, but on this Easter afternoon, the journey must have seemed very long, even though it was only seven miles.  There was no real purpose to their journey to Emmaus, but there was also no reason for them to stay in Jerusalem any longer.  Passover was over.  Jesus was no longer there.  The man who had given a sense of purpose to their lives for three years was dead.  Even his body had disappeared… and, even though some said that he had risen, these two disciples had not seen him.  The city of Jerusalem must have been an expensive place to stay… especially during Passover when every available bed was filled… and now it was a dangerous place for Jesus’ followers… so it was better for them to go home.  Maybe… someday… their lives would return to normal.

Now, if Kathy and I can walk four and a half miles in 90 minutes, these disciples could have easily walked to Emmaus in two hours.  They were used to walking everywhere that they went.   And, on this day, they had lots to talk about…and lots of questions, too, though there weren’t any answers that were readily available.  There was so much that they did not understand about the events of the past week and their significance… just as we do not fully understand the significance of all that has transpired in recent days.  So, they were deep in conversation when a stranger caught up with them.  He asked what they were talking about and they were astonished that he was coming from Jerusalem and didn’t know about the events that had totally absorbed their lives during these last few days.  So, they told him the story… and then they listened as, amazingly, he opened up the Hebrew Scriptures to them and showed them how everything that they had witnessed in the past week had been foretold by the prophets long ago, beginning with Moses. 

            Time and the miles flew by and, in no time, they were at outskirts of the village of Emmaus.  The journey that had seemed so long when they started out was over too quickly.  But they did not want the conversation to end, so they invited the man to dinner, even though they did not know who he was.  When they gathered to eat, still absorbed by all that this stranger had shared with them, he took the bread, blessed it, broke it and shared it with them in such a way that they suddenly knew who he was.  It was Jesus.  The One who was dead… was alive!  And, as they sat there in stunned awareness of his identity, he vanished from their sight, leaving them with a loaf of broken bread.

Now, my guess is that they were suddenly not hungry at all!  If they had been conversing calmly and listening intently before, they were now jabbering away with their voices raised in excitement… not listening to a word that anyone else was saying.  Each of them was so engrossed in his own personal experience of this post-resurrection contact with Christ that they did not even hear what anyone else said.  In fact, I would guess that they were so excited that they could not keep this incredible news to themselves and they had to share it with someone… with the rest of the disciples… not tomorrow… but now.  So, they picked up the luggage that they had not yet unpacked and hit the road… walking back to Jerusalem at twice the speed that they had left it…talking all the way back about their walk to Emmaus with the stranger.   Why hadn’t they recognized him?  Why didn’t they know … just from the way that he taught them… just from the insights that he shared… that it was Jesus?  Why couldn’t they tell from the way they felt when he spoke that it was Jesus?  Their hearts were on fire with his words… yes, it had felt like their hearts were burning in their chests.  Heartburn!  A different kind of heartburn, perhaps, but still heartburn.  Jesus was alive!  When would they see him again?  Had anyone else seen him?  Walk faster… walk faster!

A personal encounter with our risen Lord!  A face-to-face encounter with God.  Wouldn’t your heart be on fire if that happened to you?  Wouldn’t you have heartburn? Jesus’ followers saw him alive… heard him speak and teach them… saw him break bread with them.  It brought them back to life again.  Their hope was restored in an instant.  Their understanding was increased.  And their commitment was renewed.  Yes, their hearts burned within them… and they could not contain the news… they had to share it with others!  And, as soon as they got back to Jerusalem, they did exactly that… they told what had happened.

Now, some of you come from a Methodist background and you know that this ‘heartwarming’ story is not unique to Cleopas and his companion.   The same thing happened to John Wesley in a Bible study on Aldersgate Street on a Wednesday evening in 1738.  He had a personal encounter with God through his faith in the risen Christ… and he received the assurance that Christ had taken away his sins and saved him from the law of sin and death.  Not only was his heart ‘strangely warmed,’ but he, too, had to tell others what had happened… not the next day, but that very night!  And so he testified to all who were present that evening.

What is this mysterious change that transforms us when we encounter our risen Lord?  What is it that compels us to share the story with others… a compulsion so strong that it cannot be denied?  And this compulsion is not unique to the New Testament… or to events of earlier centuries… the Prophet Jeremiah spoke of this as well.  In chapter 20, where Jeremiah tells the story of how he was arrested by the High Priest, beaten and put in stocks for prophesying in God’s name, and warned not to continue, Jeremiah says, “O Lord, you have enticed me, and I was enticed; you have overpowered me, and you have prevailed… For whenever I speak, I must cry out, I must shout… If I say, "I will not mention him, or speak any more in his name," then within me there is something like a burning fire shut up in my bones; I am weary with holding it in, and I cannot.”  If I say, "I will not mention him, or speak any more in his name," then within me there is something like a burning fire shut up in my bones; I am weary with holding it in, and I cannot.”

Not heartburn… bone burn.  Something that burns at the very core of us… and cannot be contained.  Something that cries for release… that compels us to share the story of our encounter with the divine… of God’s work in our lives.  This heartburn… this bone burn… this compulsion to share the story with others… it is the mark of God’s possession of us… of God coming to us… of God claiming us!  Are you possessed?  Do you have heartburn?  Is there the story of an encounter with God that longs to escape from your lips?  Do you feel compelled to share that story?  It is one of the marks of a new believer… this urge to tell others.  And it was the mark of these two disciples after they encountered Christ.  Suddenly they knew that their lives would never be ‘normal’ again.  They had work to do… a story to tell… and they were surrounded by people who did not know.  They had to begin today.

So, it is with the Church of Jesus Christ in this world.  We have work to do.  We have a story to tell.  And we, too, are surrounded by people who do not know that story.  We must begin today.  Do you understand?  Our lives can never be ‘normal’ again.  That’s what Easter is all about… not an ending, but a beginning.  Not a return to ‘normal,’ but a complete change in our lives… a new future.  For, you see, we have been claimed by the One who died for us.  He has work for us to do… and we must begin today.  Life will never be the same again.

So, where will we encounter our risen Lord?  And how will we know that we have encountered him?  As simple as it may sound, we will encounter our risen Lord on the road… the road of life… as we go about our ‘normal’ routine… wherever that may be… in school… at the bank… at the body shop… in physical therapy… at home.  God will meet us where we are… for, you see, Christ is risen… and he walks among us today.  And when our hearts burn within us, we will know that he still urges us to share the story with others… and still walks with us on the road each day.  Amen.

Texts:  Luke 24:13-35; Psalm 116:1-4, 12-19