Fifteen evenings ago we gathered in the darkening sanctuary and
observed the night when Jesus shared the Passover meal with his
disciples, then moving beyond it with bread and cup instituting what we
call the Last Supper.
Sunday we will recount something that can, on first read, seem like not a big deal. Two followers of the rabbi Jesus are walking off toward a little town of Hammat— Imwas in Arabic, Emmaus in Greek— about ten kilometers outside Jerusalem. Another traveler falls in with them, and they converse about the events of the weekend. Strange events. Worrying events. Impossible to understand events. But the traveler helps them understand. Helps them not to worry. And starts to move on. The two invite him to supper, and it turns out he invites them into the mystery of resurrection and new life in a few tiny motions. “He took the bread and blessed it and broke it, and they recognized him.” It was as simple as that.
I come from a tradition (like many) which begins the Lord’s Supper with those really simple words. “When the risen Lord was at table with them, he took the bread and blessed it and broke it, and gave it to them, and they recognized him.” That first supper after resurrection connected back to the Passover shared but two weeks prior, and it connects forward to every time we take the bread in Jesus’ name and bless and break it. And recognize each other as table partners, as beloved, as those for whom Christ is still present and still nourishing. Our hearts still burn within us, all because of a few gestures made at the front of churches ever since the road to Emmaus.
I like the context of our common communion to be not so much the long, elaborate, crowded tableau of da Vinci’s “The Last Supper” and more three travelers at an inn at dusk sharing a loaf of bread and God’s love. That same simplicity and intimacy is why I like earthenware cups and baskets of bread instead of ranks of gleaming silver communionware and mini-cubes of bread. What we do seems much more like supper with family and friends, the kind of meal which sustains us in grace. Emmaus is our first supper.
Come join us Sunday as we break bread together, meeting up with the merciful traveler wherever we are on our roads to wherever.
In Christ,
David
Remember that we will, providentially enough, be having our congregational roundtable discussion about worship and preaching and music here at First Congregational following worship this Sunday. There will be a light buffet (cold cuts, etc.) available right after worship, so please make your lunch and bring it into the sanctuary so we can get started quickly. (If you don’t plan on attending the roundtable, kindly wait until those who do can serve themselves before you start working on the leftovers!)
Texts For Sunday Worship:
Sunday we will recount something that can, on first read, seem like not a big deal. Two followers of the rabbi Jesus are walking off toward a little town of Hammat— Imwas in Arabic, Emmaus in Greek— about ten kilometers outside Jerusalem. Another traveler falls in with them, and they converse about the events of the weekend. Strange events. Worrying events. Impossible to understand events. But the traveler helps them understand. Helps them not to worry. And starts to move on. The two invite him to supper, and it turns out he invites them into the mystery of resurrection and new life in a few tiny motions. “He took the bread and blessed it and broke it, and they recognized him.” It was as simple as that.
I come from a tradition (like many) which begins the Lord’s Supper with those really simple words. “When the risen Lord was at table with them, he took the bread and blessed it and broke it, and gave it to them, and they recognized him.” That first supper after resurrection connected back to the Passover shared but two weeks prior, and it connects forward to every time we take the bread in Jesus’ name and bless and break it. And recognize each other as table partners, as beloved, as those for whom Christ is still present and still nourishing. Our hearts still burn within us, all because of a few gestures made at the front of churches ever since the road to Emmaus.
I like the context of our common communion to be not so much the long, elaborate, crowded tableau of da Vinci’s “The Last Supper” and more three travelers at an inn at dusk sharing a loaf of bread and God’s love. That same simplicity and intimacy is why I like earthenware cups and baskets of bread instead of ranks of gleaming silver communionware and mini-cubes of bread. What we do seems much more like supper with family and friends, the kind of meal which sustains us in grace. Emmaus is our first supper.
Come join us Sunday as we break bread together, meeting up with the merciful traveler wherever we are on our roads to wherever.
In Christ,
David
Remember that we will, providentially enough, be having our congregational roundtable discussion about worship and preaching and music here at First Congregational following worship this Sunday. There will be a light buffet (cold cuts, etc.) available right after worship, so please make your lunch and bring it into the sanctuary so we can get started quickly. (If you don’t plan on attending the roundtable, kindly wait until those who do can serve themselves before you start working on the leftovers!)
Texts For Sunday Worship:
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