This is one of my all-time favorite Bible stories. Cleopas and his companion are walking from Jerusalem to Emmaus. It’s about seven miles, which is about a two-hour walk, maybe a little more.
And wow, did they have a lot to talk about... You know how it is, when you’re sitting at home, and you feel the earth shake a little, and the next day everyone is talking about it? “Did you feel the earthquake?” “Yes, I was sitting in my chair, watching TV, and I thought it was the dog shaking behind me, but the dog wasn’t even in the room! Did you feel it?” “I sure did. I knew right away what it was, and I started to duck & cover, but then it was over…”
The day after an earthquake, it’s all anyone can talk about.
That’s how it was after Jesus’s crucifixion. I’ve said before that the Roman government crucified people all the time. But Jesus’s crucifixion was different. For some reason, it had huge crowds of people all riled up.
Some of them believed Jesus was the messiah, the one anointed by God to be king of the Jews. That would certainly make this crucifixion stand out…
Others said he was a heretic, a blasphemer, and a traitor to Rome.
Crowds poured in to watch his trial. It was a circus.
So naturally, when Cleopas and his companion left Jerusalem – the city where all this had happened – it was all they could talk about; even more so, because they were among the group of Jesus’s closest followers. They had believed that Jesus was the messiah… but now, they weren’t so sure.
How could God’s messiah be dead?
As they were walking, a man came near and joined them. He seemed a decent enough fellow, and so Cleopas and his companion welcomed him, and the three of them continued on their way.
The newcomer asked them, “What were you talking about just now?”
They didn’t answer at first. For them, the events of the past few days, and the death of Jesus, were horrible and tragic. They couldn’t believe this person hadn’t heard the news, since everyone was talking about it, and they weren’t sure they could explain it to him without having an emotional breakdown.
But then Cleopas did explain it to him, and the stranger then tried to offer some words of comfort and consolation in return, although in my experience, telling someone that they lack wisdom – that they are, in fact, foolish – isn’t really the best way to comfort someone.
And then they came to the town of Emmaus. That’s where Cleopas and his companion were staying, but apparently the stranger had a much longer journey, because he started to walk on ahead. It was late in the day, so Cleopas urged the stranger to stay with them for the night.
In ancient cultures – and in many cultures today – hospitality is important. Cleopas and his companion had established a relationship with this traveler. Now it was almost night, and yet their new friend’s journey was not over.
It was not safe to travel by oneself, especially at night, so they invited him in, to eat, and to spend the night, so that he could continue his journey in the morning when it was safer to do so.
And they did everything they could to make him feel welcome. After all, he was now their guest. And the host’s duty is to make the guest feel welcome and safe. If you read the story of Sodom and Gomorrah, you’ll discover that the sin of those cities is precisely that they failed to provide a safe refuge to a stranger in their midst.
Cleopas and his companion welcomed the stranger to their dinner table. They even extended to him the opportunity to bless the meal.
And when they gathered at their family dinner table, welcoming this stranger as if he himself were a part of their family… and as he blessed the meal on their behalf… their eyes were opened, and they suddenly recognized him as none other than Jesus himself.
I have read this story many times, and I’ve preached on it quite a few times as well. It is, as I said, one of my favorites. And what always blows me away is that a) they didn’t recognize Jesus, and b) that they finally did recognize him, only after they welcomed this stranger as if he were a friend or a brother. They didn’t recognize him until after they showed him hospitality and compassion.
The dining table is the ultimate symbol of hospitality. Normally, you don’t invite just anyone to eat at your dining table. Even if you are at a public restaurant, you’re not likely to invite a passerby to join you at your table. If you do, well, good for you and your efforts to build community! But you still probably wouldn’t invite a passerby into your home, to sit at your table and dine with you there.
Only someone who you recognize as a good friend or a family member – a brother or sister – would receive such an invitation from you.
So when Cleopas invites this stranger home with him, to dine with him at his table – it was a big deal. It was a recognition that this person, though a stranger, was actually a friend to him, that he had in fact become a brother to him.
This, of course, is exactly what Jesus did many times. He dined in the homes of all sorts of people. He was invited to sit at the tables of the rich and the poor, the powerful and the weak.
And those who invited him did not always do so with the best motives. Sometimes someone who was rich or powerful would invite Jesus in order to test him by asking him questions, or even to make fun of him. Jesus is like that one kid who gets invited to the party not because he’s liked, but so that everyone else would have someone to laugh at.
Jesus knew why he got those invitations. But he went anyway. Because even though his hosts may not have recognized him as their friend and brother, that is always how Jesus saw them. Even those who would mock him were his friends and brothers.
And one of the things they mocked Jesus for was the times he chose to dine with lowest of the low, the outcasts, the losers. In dining with them, in welcoming them to his table, Jesus recognized these “losers” as his friends, his brothers and sisters. He made them his equals.
That was a real problem for those who were high and mighty. Didn’t Jesus know what kind of people these low-lifes were? How could he sit at the same table as them?
The high and mighty invited Jesus to take a place at their table, but they didn’t really welcome him. They didn’t invite him to honor him. They invited him so they could mock him.
But Jesus knew the symbolism of the table. He knew it was supposed to be a place of welcome. And with Jesus, everyone was always welcome.
The table remains an important symbol for Christians, and especially for those in the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ). While many Protestant churches have communion monthly or quarterly, we in the Disciples of Christ have communion every Sunday – and sometimes more often than that. Anytime we gather for worship is an appropriate time to gather at the table.
In fact, as today’s Principle of Identity states:
We gather for the Lord’s Supper, as often as possible, experiencing at this table the gracious, forgiving presence of Jesus Christ.
The hospitality that is shown at the table is so important to us, that it’s a part of our very identity. We are Disciples of Christ, a movement for wholeness in a fragmented world. As part of the one body of Christ, we welcome all to the Lord’s Table, as God has welcomed us.
The symbol of our church is the chalice – a red chalice with St. Andrew’s Cross – because the chalice symbolizes how important the Lord’s Supper is to us.
The Lord’s Supper is all about staying connected. It is at the table that we connect with Jesus. It is at the table that Jesus welcomes each one of us as a brother or a sister.
Each and every one of us.
And, it is at the table that we connect with each other. Time spent around the table is time spent in fellowship. It’s time spent getting to know one another, sharing stories, and growing in love.
Some of us in this church are raising families. It’s important to gather around a table with our families. Studies show that families that eat together are stronger and healthier. Families that turn off the TV and put their electronic devices away and enjoy a nice dinner conversation are stronger and healthier.
It’s hard for many families to do that every night. And probably, you don’t need to do that every night. But if a couple days or a week go by, and you haven’t sat down for a family meal and enjoyed real conversation with one another, then you’re not engaging in one of the most important practices for a strong and healthy family.
In the church, we gather around the table at least once a week. The Lord’s Table in worship reminds us of the significance, and it is there that our connection with Jesus is most apparent. But we also have the opportunity to gather around the table, together, on Sundays after worship, and also on Wednesday evenings. These are important, too, for they allow us to connect with each other.
And when the church gathers around the table, all are invited. All are welcome. This is the radical nature of Christ’s table.
Historically, some churches have not understood this. One of the early leaders of our movement was a Scottish immigrant named Alexander Campbell. There are a number of stories told about Alexander Campbell, and some of them may contain a touch of hyperbole, but one that demonstrates our consistent commitment to welcoming everyone at the Lord’s Table goes like this.
200 years ago, it was normal for Protestant churches to only celebrate communion just a few times each year. And in the days leading up to a Communion Sunday, you would be required to meet with the minister, and the minister would determine if you were worthy enough to receive communion.
In other words, the minister decided whether or not you should be invited to the table.
If the minister decided you were worthy of an invitation, he would give you a token.
Individuals and families cherished these tokens. There are stories of people asking to be buried with their tokens when they died. Their token meant that they were “in,” that they were one of the cool kids who got invited.
Alexander Campbell met with his minister, and the minister gave him a token.
Sunday morning at worship, people went forward for communion in groups of twelve to receive communion. They approached the altar, presented their token, and received the bread and the wine.
Alexander Campbell sat in his pew, thinking about all this. And the more he thought about it, the more he thought how wrong it was. How dare anyone decide who gets to come to the table, and who does not? Wouldn’t Jesus welcome everyone?
Groups kept going forward, but Alexander Campbell stayed in his pew. This went on and on – church lasted much longer than one hour in those days – but finally, the last group was called forward. Alexander Campbell got up, walked forward, threw his token down so that it made a loud, echoing sound, turned around and stormed out of the church.
We are Disciples of Christ, and we welcome all to the Lord’s Table, as God has welcomed us.
It is the table that connects us to God.
And, it is the table that connects us to one another.
And when we break bread with one another and recognize each person as a brother or sister, we recognize the presence of Christ that dwells among us.
And wow, did they have a lot to talk about... You know how it is, when you’re sitting at home, and you feel the earth shake a little, and the next day everyone is talking about it? “Did you feel the earthquake?” “Yes, I was sitting in my chair, watching TV, and I thought it was the dog shaking behind me, but the dog wasn’t even in the room! Did you feel it?” “I sure did. I knew right away what it was, and I started to duck & cover, but then it was over…”
The day after an earthquake, it’s all anyone can talk about.
That’s how it was after Jesus’s crucifixion. I’ve said before that the Roman government crucified people all the time. But Jesus’s crucifixion was different. For some reason, it had huge crowds of people all riled up.
Some of them believed Jesus was the messiah, the one anointed by God to be king of the Jews. That would certainly make this crucifixion stand out…
Others said he was a heretic, a blasphemer, and a traitor to Rome.
Crowds poured in to watch his trial. It was a circus.
So naturally, when Cleopas and his companion left Jerusalem – the city where all this had happened – it was all they could talk about; even more so, because they were among the group of Jesus’s closest followers. They had believed that Jesus was the messiah… but now, they weren’t so sure.
How could God’s messiah be dead?
As they were walking, a man came near and joined them. He seemed a decent enough fellow, and so Cleopas and his companion welcomed him, and the three of them continued on their way.
The newcomer asked them, “What were you talking about just now?”
They didn’t answer at first. For them, the events of the past few days, and the death of Jesus, were horrible and tragic. They couldn’t believe this person hadn’t heard the news, since everyone was talking about it, and they weren’t sure they could explain it to him without having an emotional breakdown.
But then Cleopas did explain it to him, and the stranger then tried to offer some words of comfort and consolation in return, although in my experience, telling someone that they lack wisdom – that they are, in fact, foolish – isn’t really the best way to comfort someone.
And then they came to the town of Emmaus. That’s where Cleopas and his companion were staying, but apparently the stranger had a much longer journey, because he started to walk on ahead. It was late in the day, so Cleopas urged the stranger to stay with them for the night.
In ancient cultures – and in many cultures today – hospitality is important. Cleopas and his companion had established a relationship with this traveler. Now it was almost night, and yet their new friend’s journey was not over.
It was not safe to travel by oneself, especially at night, so they invited him in, to eat, and to spend the night, so that he could continue his journey in the morning when it was safer to do so.
And they did everything they could to make him feel welcome. After all, he was now their guest. And the host’s duty is to make the guest feel welcome and safe. If you read the story of Sodom and Gomorrah, you’ll discover that the sin of those cities is precisely that they failed to provide a safe refuge to a stranger in their midst.
Cleopas and his companion welcomed the stranger to their dinner table. They even extended to him the opportunity to bless the meal.
And when they gathered at their family dinner table, welcoming this stranger as if he himself were a part of their family… and as he blessed the meal on their behalf… their eyes were opened, and they suddenly recognized him as none other than Jesus himself.
I have read this story many times, and I’ve preached on it quite a few times as well. It is, as I said, one of my favorites. And what always blows me away is that a) they didn’t recognize Jesus, and b) that they finally did recognize him, only after they welcomed this stranger as if he were a friend or a brother. They didn’t recognize him until after they showed him hospitality and compassion.
The dining table is the ultimate symbol of hospitality. Normally, you don’t invite just anyone to eat at your dining table. Even if you are at a public restaurant, you’re not likely to invite a passerby to join you at your table. If you do, well, good for you and your efforts to build community! But you still probably wouldn’t invite a passerby into your home, to sit at your table and dine with you there.
Only someone who you recognize as a good friend or a family member – a brother or sister – would receive such an invitation from you.
So when Cleopas invites this stranger home with him, to dine with him at his table – it was a big deal. It was a recognition that this person, though a stranger, was actually a friend to him, that he had in fact become a brother to him.
This, of course, is exactly what Jesus did many times. He dined in the homes of all sorts of people. He was invited to sit at the tables of the rich and the poor, the powerful and the weak.
And those who invited him did not always do so with the best motives. Sometimes someone who was rich or powerful would invite Jesus in order to test him by asking him questions, or even to make fun of him. Jesus is like that one kid who gets invited to the party not because he’s liked, but so that everyone else would have someone to laugh at.
Jesus knew why he got those invitations. But he went anyway. Because even though his hosts may not have recognized him as their friend and brother, that is always how Jesus saw them. Even those who would mock him were his friends and brothers.
And one of the things they mocked Jesus for was the times he chose to dine with lowest of the low, the outcasts, the losers. In dining with them, in welcoming them to his table, Jesus recognized these “losers” as his friends, his brothers and sisters. He made them his equals.
That was a real problem for those who were high and mighty. Didn’t Jesus know what kind of people these low-lifes were? How could he sit at the same table as them?
The high and mighty invited Jesus to take a place at their table, but they didn’t really welcome him. They didn’t invite him to honor him. They invited him so they could mock him.
But Jesus knew the symbolism of the table. He knew it was supposed to be a place of welcome. And with Jesus, everyone was always welcome.
The table remains an important symbol for Christians, and especially for those in the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ). While many Protestant churches have communion monthly or quarterly, we in the Disciples of Christ have communion every Sunday – and sometimes more often than that. Anytime we gather for worship is an appropriate time to gather at the table.
In fact, as today’s Principle of Identity states:
We gather for the Lord’s Supper, as often as possible, experiencing at this table the gracious, forgiving presence of Jesus Christ.
The hospitality that is shown at the table is so important to us, that it’s a part of our very identity. We are Disciples of Christ, a movement for wholeness in a fragmented world. As part of the one body of Christ, we welcome all to the Lord’s Table, as God has welcomed us.
The symbol of our church is the chalice – a red chalice with St. Andrew’s Cross – because the chalice symbolizes how important the Lord’s Supper is to us.
The Lord’s Supper is all about staying connected. It is at the table that we connect with Jesus. It is at the table that Jesus welcomes each one of us as a brother or a sister.
Each and every one of us.
And, it is at the table that we connect with each other. Time spent around the table is time spent in fellowship. It’s time spent getting to know one another, sharing stories, and growing in love.
Some of us in this church are raising families. It’s important to gather around a table with our families. Studies show that families that eat together are stronger and healthier. Families that turn off the TV and put their electronic devices away and enjoy a nice dinner conversation are stronger and healthier.
It’s hard for many families to do that every night. And probably, you don’t need to do that every night. But if a couple days or a week go by, and you haven’t sat down for a family meal and enjoyed real conversation with one another, then you’re not engaging in one of the most important practices for a strong and healthy family.
In the church, we gather around the table at least once a week. The Lord’s Table in worship reminds us of the significance, and it is there that our connection with Jesus is most apparent. But we also have the opportunity to gather around the table, together, on Sundays after worship, and also on Wednesday evenings. These are important, too, for they allow us to connect with each other.
And when the church gathers around the table, all are invited. All are welcome. This is the radical nature of Christ’s table.
Historically, some churches have not understood this. One of the early leaders of our movement was a Scottish immigrant named Alexander Campbell. There are a number of stories told about Alexander Campbell, and some of them may contain a touch of hyperbole, but one that demonstrates our consistent commitment to welcoming everyone at the Lord’s Table goes like this.
200 years ago, it was normal for Protestant churches to only celebrate communion just a few times each year. And in the days leading up to a Communion Sunday, you would be required to meet with the minister, and the minister would determine if you were worthy enough to receive communion.
In other words, the minister decided whether or not you should be invited to the table.
If the minister decided you were worthy of an invitation, he would give you a token.
Individuals and families cherished these tokens. There are stories of people asking to be buried with their tokens when they died. Their token meant that they were “in,” that they were one of the cool kids who got invited.
Alexander Campbell met with his minister, and the minister gave him a token.
Sunday morning at worship, people went forward for communion in groups of twelve to receive communion. They approached the altar, presented their token, and received the bread and the wine.
Alexander Campbell sat in his pew, thinking about all this. And the more he thought about it, the more he thought how wrong it was. How dare anyone decide who gets to come to the table, and who does not? Wouldn’t Jesus welcome everyone?
Groups kept going forward, but Alexander Campbell stayed in his pew. This went on and on – church lasted much longer than one hour in those days – but finally, the last group was called forward. Alexander Campbell got up, walked forward, threw his token down so that it made a loud, echoing sound, turned around and stormed out of the church.
We are Disciples of Christ, and we welcome all to the Lord’s Table, as God has welcomed us.
It is the table that connects us to God.
And, it is the table that connects us to one another.
And when we break bread with one another and recognize each person as a brother or sister, we recognize the presence of Christ that dwells among us.
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