Meeting the Brokenhearted

 This past week was yet-another sad and sorrowful time of shootings and state legislative attacks on the LGBTQ+ community of Florida. Now, apparently, going to the wrong house, getting into the wrong car, pulling into the wrong driveway are all reasons to shoot a person. 

And attempting to live your life as a queer or trans person in Florida is also verboten. 

Between this and the every day stuff of living and listening to the individual pains of people, I admit that I was having a really hard time putting this sermon together. Because my heart was hurting. And maybe that was the perfect space to be in as I considered those two disciples encountering Jesus on the road to Emmaus.

Text: Luke 24: 13-25; Ps. 116: 1-4; 10-17

+++

Our Gospel lesson for this morning is a story of the heart.

Not just because of that line about the disciples’ hearts burning within them when Jesus was speaking.

We call this story “The Road to Emmaus” but really I think we might call it “Heartbreak Road.”

Because this seven-mile long journey away from Jerusalem… is a road of sadness, disillusionment, and crushed hopes and dreams.

It’s the road traveled by those whose hearts are broken.

So if we can… let’s step into the sandals of Cleopas and whoever the other disciple is…another ol’ what’s-their-name.

Let’s imagine how confused and terrified they must have been.

It was bad enough that Jesus had been so brutally killed by the state.

Horrible that it was one of their own who betrayed their teacher and leader.

Now there are these stories from the women and a small band of the men that Jesus’ tomb is empty… and they have no idea what’s happened to the body.

And all they want to do now is get away.

Leave Jerusalem.

Get out of that place where they had hoped Jesus would sock it to the Roman Empire…and just go home.

Their hearts are heavy with grief.

And grief drops them into an almost other-worldly state of being…blurry with tears and minds shrouded from the sun.

Grief is liminal space.

When we’re in the throes of grief… time seems suspended…and we find ourselves moving at a pace that isn’t the same as other people.

And… just as with the appearance in the locked upper room…this is the moment when Jesus shows up.

He’s this stranger who comes along side these two as they are walking and talking.

And as they are ambling along, he asks, “Whatcha talkin’ about?”

This interruption and intrusion on their conversation by some random guy puts a full stop to their walk along Heartbreak Road.

“What are we talking about? You haven’t heard? Have you been living under a rock or something, mister?!’

Cleopas begins sharing the pain… the anguish… the dashed hopes…this deep lament at losses far too many to name.

This seems like a typical human reaction.

It’s at those times when our hearts are hurting the most that we feel comfortable opening up to total strangers.

Sort of like when a person sits down at the bar… and bends the ear of a bartender about how the world is weighing them down.

The barkeep may sigh and nod… maybe offers some words of encouragement… but mostly they’re just a disinterested third party… there to pour drinks and let people just be.

And while Jesus isn’t serving up a drink to these apostles… he is listening.

He has come into their space…entered into their worries…and he can sense how much hurt there is in their hearts.

Our psalm from this morning begins:

“I love the Lord, because he has heard my voice and my supplication. Because he inclined his ear to me, therefore I will call on him as I long as I live.”

Jesus hears the words… and knows that underneath all their expressions is evidence of a broken and contrite heart.

And “a troubled spirit” (Ps.51:18) is the opening for God to pour in the balm of Love.

This is the chance for God to reach past that gatekeeper of the brain and the rationale of the ego and to speak to the heart.

And it’s always easier for God to reach us when our hearts aren’t hardened and sealed shut… but broken open… to receive the gift of love Jesus is offering.

And there is a lot of breaking in this Gospel.

Once Jesus encounters these brokenhearted disciples wandering along their road of heartbreak to Emmaus… he breaks open the Scriptures for them.

He traces all the history… going back to Moses… and all the prophets of Israel… to help them understand that the pain and the disquiet they’re feeling in their hearts is all part of a larger plan of salvation that has been in the works from the beginning.

And just when Jesus is ready to keep moving along… Cleopas and his buddy disciple break down and insist that Jesus come to dinner with them.

Then at the table… Jesus breaks bread.

Suddenly… through that fog and despair of grief… the light breaks through to them and their clouded vision clears, and they realize they have been in the presence of God.

Now… their eyes are opened.

Now… they understand.

Now… with the recognition of the burning fire in their broken hearts… they are renewed… restored… and ready to go back to Jerusalem… giving praise to the Lord.

Not through words… but through experience.

Religious experiences are much more heart-felt than something we comprehend with our intellect.

As the American theologian Jonathan Edwards said, it’s the difference between having an abstract knowledge that honey is sweet and the inward comprehension of the sweetness of honey on the tongue.

The mind always wants logic.

Our brains want to put our mental furniture in place with the right feng shui…neat and tidy.

Our egos want to assert control and authority over things that seem irrational.

But the true experience of Jesus is not comprehensible in that way because He meets us in the heart.

Having had their hearts now fired up inside them… the disciples have a better comprehension of God…and the meaning of the resurrection… than what they would have achieved through their minds alone.

Now their hearts and minds are aligned and ready for action.

These encounters with Jesus in locked rooms and dusty roads… whether it’s in the First Century Palestine… or the Twenty-First Century Valdosta… are the ways we connect to the Divine and prepare us for the coming of the Holy Spirit.

It’s through the working of that Spirit that we can find our voice… and our passion… to address the wounds we see inflicted in a world that sometimes seems too cruel and petty.

It is through our own broken hearts that we meet others with the love and compassion they need…and help them discover the sweetness of a Love that is with us always.

In the name of God… F/S/HS.