“When he was at table with them, he took bread, blessed it, and broke it, and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him…in the breaking of the bread”
In one of the most powerful episodes of the hit television series M*A*S*H, the stuffy Major Winchester is going through a dark night of the soul. The horror of the war – the death, the carnage, the maiming – has finally gotten to him, and he cracks. He plummets into a deep depression in which he struggles to find answers to life’s most perplexing questions. Questions about God. Questions about life. Questions about death.
In desperation, Major Winchester flees the base hospital and goes up to the battalion aid station where the wounded are first taken from the battlefield. There a medical corpsman calls him over to help with a wounded soldier.
The soldier gasps, “I can’t see anything. Hold my hand!” Winchester says, “Yes, I’ve got you, son.”
The soldier says, “I’m dying.”
And there, at the crossroads of Major Winchester’s questions and a young soldier’s moment of dying, the Major tries to peek over the horizon into eternity.
“Son, can you see anything? Can you hear anything? Can you feel anything? Tell me! Tell me! I HAVE to know what’s there!”
But the dying man doesn’t answer. Instead, as he slips away, the boy lifts up his eyes and simply whispers, “I… smell…bread…”
“When he was at table with them, he took bread, blessed it, and broke it, and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him…in the breaking of the bread”
This morning, I want to begin with a question. “As you walk along the particular road upon which you are journeying these days – with all the challenges, opportunities and difficulties along the way – can you smell the bread?”
And a second question, “As you think about the people you love – and consider the difficulties they may be facing as they walk along life’s road – do you know how to break bread…for them?”
Today’s Scripture lesson from Luke 24 is a gold mine of Christian truth. Why, here we have two ordinary people going home after life has disappointed them and broken their hearts. And we understand what’s going on with them spiritually and emotionally because we’ve been down that road – this Emmaus Road – ourselves. Some of us may even be walking this road this morning.
And here we have Jesus, in his resurrection body – no longer limited by time and space – suddenly showing up to walk this tear-filled road with these two brokenhearted disciples, touching their lives in a powerfully healing and life-changing way. And then, later, simply vanishing from view.
And here we have an ordinary every-day-event – a simple meal. And in that wonderful way that God seems to enjoy – so much so that you can almost hear him giggling over it – something quite plain is transformed into an extraordinary encounter with the Divine!
Oh, yes, this is a story full of extraordinary things found in ordinary moments! But don’t lose sight of the fact that, silently wafting through every part of the story, is the unmistakable aroma of baking bread.
Can you smell it?
Can you smell the aroma of bread baking?
Do you know how to break bread for others?
Now there seem to be three main components to this story about how to discover the bread of life for yourself, and how to break the bread for others.
First, I want you to notice that Jesus joins these disciples along the road, and listens to them.
I think I’ve told you before that, when I was growing up, all the kids in our neighborhood used to gather once a week under the maple tree on our front lawn to help the Catholic kids make up sins to bring to confession! And we came up some real doozies. In fact, some of those kids were never seen again! They’re probably still out there doing penance! Only kidding!
Well, that all made sense to us when we were young, but honestly, now that I’m a little older, I find myself asking, why do we human beings have this need to “make up our lives” before God? Why do we pretend to be what we’re not? And why do we run and hide from God what we are?
I have a theory that, if these disciples going down to Emmaus that day had known from the start that it was Jesus walking with them, the whole conversation would have been different!
“Why, Harry, look it! It’s the Lord! Why we were just talkin’ about you, Jesus! We were just sayin’ that you’re probably gonna show up any minute now! Weren’t we, Harry! Weren’t we sayin’ that! Not a doubt in our mind! What? The tears? What tears? Oh, these tears! Well, they’re just…ah…TEARS O’ JOY…yeah, that’s what they are…TEARS O’ JOY… ’cause we knew you’d come through. After all, the women told us about what happened this morning! What? You heard us say the women were “nuts”? Oh, no Lord, we didn’t say “nuts”- we was sayin’ those ol’ girls…ah…had..a..lot…of GUTS – yeah, that’s it! They had lots of guts! I mean, tellin’ those other disciples about what they saw – and you know how Peter and those guys are – it took a lot of guts to say what they said. What? Why are we runnin’ away? You mean to Emmaus? Oh Lord, we’re not runnin’ away…we’re goin’…we’re goin’ to start a church! Yeah, that’s it! We’re goin’ to start a church!”
Why do we have this need to “make up” our lives before God?
After all, Jesus knows us better than we know ourselves. And so when he joins these two on the road to Emmaus, he comes as a stranger. And he prompts them to pour out their hearts to him – how hurt they are, how crushed with disappointment, how abandoned they feel.
Dear friends, you can never really get to the bread of life until you’re willing to pour out your heart to Jesus. Until you spill your guts. Until you break open the vessel of your true secret self and let it flow out into the hands of God.
In my own life, the most powerful prayer I ever prayed was one that came not so much in the form of a prayer as in the form of a desperate cry. “God, I’m not even sure you’re there! But, if you are, I need to know!!!”
All of our lives are filled to overflowing with hurts, and doubts, and disappointments. Like Major Winchester, there is so much we don’t understand about God, about life, and about death, and that makes us feel lost in the swirl of life. A friend of mine says that, when her husband died, she found herself saying “It was the will of God.” But deep inside what she was really feeling was, “God how could you do this to me? Do you have any idea how badly I HURT? How am I going to SURVIVE?”
So you and I have to make a choice as we walk along the road to Emmaus. We can walk along trying to con God into thinking we’re a lot stronger, a lot more faithful, a lot more in control than we really are. We can make up our lives before God.
Or we can lay out the facts.
Those who are involved in counseling will tell you that, becoming painfully honest with yourself – taking up your truest feelings about an experience or about life itself (whether they are “good” feelings or not) – is the beginning of the process of healing.
And, of course, that’s how you can help others begin to smell the bread, too. When you listen to them talk about themselves and about God. When you create a setting in your relationships in which people feel safe to spill their guts. When you shut up for awhile and just listen without interruption.
Isn’t it amazing what Jesus did as he walked along the road? He listened to them. And they tore off their masks. And stopped pretending. Why, it turns out the tears they are shedding are not tears of joy. The women who reported empty tombs and angels do seem to be nuts! They are not going to Emmaus to start a mission church! They’re running away as fast as they can! And suddenly, they are exposed – not only to Jesus, but more importantly, to themselves.
And they begin to smell something baking!
Now the second component of this bread baking and bread breaking operation is that, once he had listened to the men, Jesus opened the Scriptures to them. Ever so gently, he helped them to see the relationship between their personal turmoil and the God who loved them and was active in history trying to save the world!
One of the reasons I believe its so important for Christian people to develop a close relationship with the Bible is that it lifts our little lives into a much larger context. God did not create us to live as isolated individuals, but in relationship with each other. God did not create us to gather under national flags of division, but bonded together as common members of His family. God did not create us as to live just sixty or eighty or a hundred years, and then its all over. Oh no, our lives have far-reaching consequences that extend way beyond our own physical lifetime. And how we live in this moment today ripples all the way out into eternity!
And not only are we key players in a kind of life that requires much more than a good retirement plan to achieve security and success, but the God who is at the center of it all cares about you as a person, and responds to even the smallest tear you shed!
And not only that, but you have gifts you don’t even know about. They were planted within your soul before you were even born so that, one day, when you smelled the aroma of baking bread, these gifts will begin to become known to you. And with these gifts, you will touch others’ lives with the healing power of God.
Learning to see yourself as God sees you is the most powerful, self-actualizing experience there can be for a human being. And the Bible is the mirror in which we see both God – and ourselves – for who and what we really are. Yes, its hard to read and understand in some places. Yes, it takes some effort to begin to appreciate it. But, you know, as you engage the Scripture every day, something begins to seep into your bones. Something begins to etch into your consciousness. Something begins to stir in your heart. And you begin to smell baking bread!
Now there’s one more component to this wonderful story along the road to Emmaus.
At table that night, the stranger takes bread, blesses it, and breaks it. He gives it to them.
And their eyes are opened! Jesus becomes known to them in the breaking of the bread!
There is something about small acts of personal giving and sacrifice that open peoples’ eyes to Christ. So often, in the hour a friend gives to you when he could have used it for himself; or in the note that arrives in the mail at just the right moment; or in the forgiveness someone offers when we’ve gone and hurt them real good; or when a church takes up an offering to help someone who’s injured, Christ is revealed.
My wife and I saw this so powerfully in the sacrificial love so many of you gave to help us in the building of our new home in Tellico Village. And once we were living there, not a day went by when we were not reminded of how someone painted here, or hammered nails there, or sawed wood, or lugged furniture on moving day, or gave a housewarming gift, or sent along a card that said, “Welcome to the neighborhood!”
These are simple things – but simple acts of generous love have the aroma of baking bread.
And in them Christ is made known.
One day, a little boy set out to find God. He figured it would be a long trip, so he packed up some Twinkies and a couple of cans of Root Beer, and set out on the journey. Soon, he came to a park, and there, on one of the benches, sat a very old woman with all her possessions in two big green trash bags. She was looking at the pigeons. The little boy sat down next to her and began to watch the pigeons too.
After a while, the little boy was hungry. He pulled out the pack of Twinkies and was getting ready to eat one when something inside told him to offer a Twinkie to the old lady. So he did. She accepted it with a beautiful smile. He thought it was the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen.
When he finished his Twinkie, the little boy reached into his backpack and felt for the two cans of Root Beer. He took one for himself, but again acting intuitively, he held the other out to the woman. Accepting it, she again smiled that beautiful smile.
For a long time, the two sat on that park bench, eating Twinkies and drinking Root Beer, smiling at each other, and watching the pigeons. Neither said a word. Finally, the boy realized it was getting late. Starting to leave, he took a few steps, but then suddenly turned back to the woman and ran and gave her a big hug. Then he spun around and ran all the way home. Her smile was even brighter than before.
When he arrived home, his mother asked the little boy about his day.
“I found God,” he said.
“You did?” asked his mother. “What did God look like?”
“Mom,” he said, “she has the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen!”
Meanwhile, the old bag lady left the park and went to check in at the homeless shelter. “Sadie,” said the attendant, “what did you do today?”
Sadie smiled her beautiful smile. “Why, I ate Twinkies and drank Root Beer with God in the park!”
“Oh?” quizzed the shelter worker. “And what did God look like?”
“You know,” answered Sadie, “he’s a lot younger than I ever imagined!”
He was made known to them in the breaking of the bread.
And it still happens today – when we spill out our guts to God, and when we listen to others – when we seek to see ourselves in the context of the Scriptures, and when we help others get a larger view – when we see the love people give us as sacramental acts, and when we find simple ways to break bread for others – Jesus becomes known.
“He was made known to them in the breaking of the bread.”
As this new week after Easter begins, can you smell the wonderful aroma of baking bread?
And will you go this week and break the bread for people who need to know the Lord is risen indeed?
Leave A Comment