We can’t help but focus on what we know. Reports tell us the worst is real possibility, and rational thought takes it from there. Positive explanations are floated, yet they just don’t fit with how the world is understood. How do you make choices when your steps slush through murky mud?
Regardless of one’s measure of belief, it’s inevitably going to happen. When God is needed the most, God seems farthest away. When there’s nothing left to grasp, the heavens seem dark. All rations of faith are shredded, and at best, any hope possible is dim. What happened to God in all of this?
The two were leaving Jerusalem, a place where the town roared like a roller coaster powered by death and dashed dreams for three days. Jesus, the one many called Messiah, was dead, crucified-dead. Still, some women claimed angels no less had told them he was alive, and others discovered his body was gone. It was the kind of news that made your throat choke with sobs over what had happened and fear that if you even considered some good news, it would be splintered again. How much could a person take? Every breath seemed dangerous.
Incredibly, a stranger meets them on the road who seemed to know nothing of the news. But more of a wonder was how he entered into the conversation. “Wasn’t it clearly predicted by the prophets that the Messiah would have to suffer all these things before entering his time of glory?” With that, he reminded them of the familiar passages within the Hebrew scriptures that supported the events of the Jesus’ life.
The record still gives its witness. “Many were amazed when they saw him—beaten and bloodied, so disfigured one would scarcely know he was a person…He was whipped…led as a lamb to the slaughter… he did not open his mouth. From prison and trial they led him away to his death.” (Isaiah 52:14; 53:5,7-8)
Yet, his life did not end. “…You will find rest, and then at the end of the days, you will rise again to receive the inheritance set aside for you.” (Daniel 12:13) Furthermore, “…I saw someone who looked like a man coming with the clouds of heaven. He approached the Ancient One and was led into his presence. He was given authority, honor, and royal power over all the nations of the world, so that people of every race and nation and language would obey him. His rule is eternal—it will never end.” (Daniel 7:13-14)
With that to settle into their souls, it was time to rest. The two travelers invited the stranger to stay the night with them. As they sat down to a simple meal, he led them through an all-so-familiar ritual: he took some bread, blessed it, broke it, and gave it to them.
They knew. There was the time Jesus had fed 5000 persons with just five loaves of bread and two fish. Same actions—taking, blessing, breaking and giving. Then again, the last time the disciples had seen him alive, he celebrated the Passover meal but told them the bread and the cup were his body and blood. They remembered how like now he took the bread, blessed it, broke it and gave it to them in remembrance of his life and sacrifice. It had been in the simple acts of eating and sharing a meal that Jesus taught them who he was and what his life meant. No big scenes or miracle drama, just in the everyday, commonplace ways of living and sharing life.
Just as suddenly, he wasn’t there. Jesus wasn’t there, but then, he always was there. They now recognized Jesus was with them in a strange, very different way. Somehow, the eternal had entered their present, and they could see God in the ordinary that had become extraordinary. “Their eyes were opened.”
When in the depths of feeling that God has deserted us, absolutely abandoned us, and that there is no god, we carry a nothingness that leaves us empty. It’s a human tendency to get the facts straight while getting the inferences wrong.
Instead, God shows up like an unknown stranger that listens first to the bewildering pain and then reveals hope as promised from the ages and shown in the familiar points of living. By that encounter, the divine pours out and empties into strangely warmed hearts traveling pedestrian roads, meeting God on the journey of life.
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