When our hearts burn
April 6, 2008
David Brubacher
Text:
Luke 24:13-35
Psalm 116
Introduction: I sensed a burning in my heart. The young girl waiting on me in the local pharmacy looked familiar. The burning suggested I should know her. In the grocery store next door I remembered that I had done the finish carpentry in her family’s dream home. I was always intrigued by the way this girl and her younger siblings helped with odd jobs such as priming some of the trim. My heart continued to burn until I went back to the pharmacy to confirm that she was Stephanie. She felt she should know me as well.
For me that brief encounter was an intersecting of journey and narrative. I enjoyed my journey with that family. Stephanie’s father is one of the fussiest people I have ever worked for. I loved it. People like that appreciate the quality of work in which I take delight. This family is also on a delicate balance of relating to a faith community. I was once their pastor. My journey with them as a family has been a good experience on all levels. As our journeys have intersected God has been at work shaping and reshaping a narrative of mutual blessing.
Lately I have thought a lot about the intersection of journey and narrative. Perhaps another way of saying it is the intersecting of journeys and the shaping of life narratives accordingly. I have reflected on the journey of TUMC and the many people whose lives have intersected with TUMC. Over Easter I pondered the story of God’s presence among us in the resurrected Jesus. People tell stories of experiencing Jesus and having their lives shaped by the life giving love of God here at TUMC. The visual behind me continues to be a powerful representation of the presence of God in Jesus weaving its way in and out of our life stories.
In that weaving, our individual and collective stories, our narratives, are changed as we orientate ourselves towards the values of God’s Kingdom among us. These are not bed-time stories meant to put people to sleep generating sweet dreams. These are real stories about the power of God in Jesus getting into every pore and fiber of our being, sometimes to comfort us, often to stir us in new directions, but always to change us.
I was delighted to come to the intersection of today’s gospel text, the story of two disciple’s journey to Emmaus, and the dedication of young children and their parents. I had never thought of this text speaking so profoundly to a community of faith in its ministry of nurture for young children and their families. We desire that our children hear, experience, and come to be shaped by God’s life giving presence in Jesus. Indeed, it happens today as it did on that walk to Emmaus.
The walk to Emmaus is a powerful narrative. It celebrates everything there is to celebrate in Easter. It begs our participation. In encountering the risen Jesus, mysteriously appearing and disappearing, the disciples were changed.
They had left Jerusalem for Emmaus dejected. Their hopes had been dashed. Surely Jesus was the one who would restore the throne of King David. But he was crucified. Some women said angels told them Jesus was alive. The disciples went to the tomb and it was empty as the women had said. Jesus was not there.
Now they had met a stranger on the road who reviewed the scriptures to explain the Messiah would die and be raised to life again. A burning in their hearts said there was something familiar about this stranger. Later when the stranger broke bread and gave it to them they recognized him. It was Jesus. He was alive indeed. With hearts a flame they hurried back the way they had come to tell all they saw that Jesus was alive.
Today we are invited to enter the story and consider how do we engage our children in the story?
We come to know the life-giving presence of God in Jesus gradually. None of us has the capacity to comprehend all there is to know of God in one instance. Every time God’s story intersects with ours we encounter God who is journeys with us.
We are like the disciples on the way to Emmaus. God comes to us in many ways. Sometimes we do not recognize God. Maybe it is because we were expecting God to come in a different way. Maybe something is blocking us from seeing God. Even so seeds of faith have been planted. In surprising ways seeds of memory can blossom into new life filled with hope. With renewed passion our hearts burn within us. Eagerly we tell others.
In Luke’s gospel God and Jesus come to be known in revelation. For the travelers to Emmaus an extension of hospitality to a stranger ended in profound revelation. They invited the stranger to join them for a common meal. The stranger became host, took bread, blessed it, broke it and gave it to them. As the strangers hands broke bread they remembered the times Jesus broke bread with them. Could it be? Yes, it was. But he was gone. In the simple act of breaking bread a memory triggered a revelation of Jesus. Their hearts burned as they traveled from Emmaus to Jerusalem.
I am intrigued by the role memory plays in the formation of faith. We should not expect that our young children will be fully formed as people of faith. Faith formation is a life long journey. Along the way we may step off the path of faith for various reasons. Seeds of faith are planted in early and formative years will be recalled to memory at crucial intersections of life experience. At these intersections of life we encounter Jesus who reveals new dimensions of life. And our hearts burn as memory connects to present day reality.
Seeds of faith blossoming to new life in Jesus are planted in various ways. Most basic is the telling of God’s life giving love in Jesus, in Sunday School, at church, or at home. When this story is reflected in life modeled by parents and other significant adults, images, memories are etched into young minds for a life time.
My father is a man of very few words. I do not recall many things he taught me verbally. But I have an image burned into my memory that continues to shape me. At the time my father did not own a wheelbarrow. But our neighbour had two. They were the old wooden type with steel wheels. My father always insisted on borrowing the older one. It needed a lot of repairs. Every time my father used it he made repairs and returned it with a basket of garden produce that was in season. I was about eight a
t the time. That image continues to encourage me to leave the world in a little better shape and to give generously of what I have.
Conclusion: Today we have dedicated Kaesha and David, and their parents to God. As their supporting community of faith, let us not tire in telling and being the story of Jesus for them to hear and to see. I know as parents you aren’t thinking of it yet, but some day we will send them beyond this community of faith. It is then that we pray they will call to memory the stories and examples of Jesus. Then may their hearts will burn with passion as they live out that memory in the present of that day. Amen.