Sunday, April 21, 2013

jesus stays with us: bach cantata #6

the following is a manuscript from the homily i preached at the bach cantata vespers service tonight.  the cantata was cantata #6

a reading from luke.

13Now on that same day two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem, 14and talking with each other about all these things that had happened. 15While they were talking and discussing, Jesus himself came near and went with them, 16but their eyes were kept from recognizing him. 17And he said to them, “What are you discussing with each other while you walk along?”

They stood still, looking sad. 18Then one of them, whose name was Cleopas, answered him, “Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have taken place there in these days?”

19He asked them, “What things?”

They replied, “The things about Jesus of Nazareth, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, 20and how our chief priests and leaders handed him over to be condemned to death and crucified him. 21But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel. Yes, and besides all this, it is now the third day since these things took place. 22Moreover, some women of our group astounded us. They were at the tomb early this morning, 23and when they did not find his body there, they came back and told us that they had indeed seen a vision of angels who said that he was alive. 24Some of those who were with us went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said; but they did not see him.”

25Then he said to them, “Oh, how foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have declared! 26Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into his glory?” 27Then beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them the things about himself in all the scriptures.  

28As they came near the village to which they were going, he walked ahead as if he were going on. 29But they urged him strongly, saying, “Stay with us, because it is almost evening and the day is now nearly over.” So he went in to stay with them.

30When he was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. 31Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him; and he vanished from their sight. 32They said to each other, “Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?”

33That same hour they got up and returned to Jerusalem; and they found the eleven and their companions gathered together. 34They were saying, “The Lord has risen indeed, and he has appeared to Simon!” 35Then they told what had happened on the road, and how he had been made known to them in the breaking of the bread.

the word of the lord.  thanks be to god.

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even as we are an easter people and are in the season of easter, good friday, the death of the lord and our friend, remains with us.  we live in a good friday world with the two disciples walking the road to emmaus. 

this week has been especially clear on the death and dark of night that surrounds us.  starting the week with the explosions at the boston marathon, another explosion at a fertilizer factory in west, texas, and these are in addition to the daily violence and death that riddles our city, and even some of our families.  not to mention situations of hunger and homelessness. 

we’re struggling with budget crises as individuals and as a country.  80-90% agreement on common sense gun legislation: and yet universal background checks still don’t pass in congress.  we work hard and stressful jobs, we work with crabby people, or we can’t find work.

all around us we resonate with disciples who are wrestling with good friday and the quickly falling evening.  we can feel evening falling in the setting sun and even in the descending notes of the cantata, but we’re not quite ready for the day to be over.  we’re not quite ready to be left alone.

something within us yearns for more and we hear ourselves beg with the disciples, “stay with us, because it is almost evening and the day is now nearly over.”  it is with a pleading tone that we hear this request at the start of the cantata to match the same tone with which the disciples ask jesus to stay.

as yet, they don’t know it’s jesus, and while their hearts may be burning, they still think it’s heartburn from lunch.  but there is something about this stranger walking with them, that pulls them in.  something about him that keeps them from letting him just walk away.

there is a mystery in this transitional, liminal time between day and night that pulls us in.  for the past 25 years we’ve been pulled in here to this place by the mystery of bach’s cantatas—his ability to bring these words to new life—to infuse each note so that we feel with the disciples the plea and mounting urgency for jesus to stay with us.

the story goes that christ is risen, yet there is still doubt and worry; grief and tragedy.  perhaps the mystery is actually that in the midst of the grief we face, we keep coming back.  something keeps pulling us in.  so we, as the disciples, urge him to stay—a gesture of middle eastern hospitality; and a plea from our hearts. 

there’s a reference in the book of hebrews about providing hospitality that you may actually be “entertaining angels unaware.”  it refers to sarah and abraham’s hospitality to the three angels of the lord in genesis, a well-known story to jews even back then.  i don’t think the first hearers of this story in luke could have heard it without remembering sarah and abraham and the angels and the gift they received—a beloved child—through the hospitality they provided.

and hospitality is holy.  providing for others, inviting them in, is sacred work, as is gathering in this place.  the notes of the cantata blend together to infuse us with the scene.  even martin luther, our namesake as lutherans, knew the value and power of music—keeping it intricately woven in worship.  and so we return for each cantata to the holy place that music holds in our lives and hearts.

and the disciples return to their home in emmaus and invite jesus to stay after the long journey.  in this moment of holy hospitality and fellowship at the Table, jesus breaks bread and in the breaking of bread, the disciples realize that they are with jesus—and he disappears.  they gather together as strangers, sharing in the journey and sharing in hospitality.

it is precisely there—in the hospitality and in the breaking of bread—that god in jesus is revealed to the disciples.  so it is today that in the gifts we share with others god is revealed.  in our hospitality, music, comfort, and food.  jesus is among us, unseen, yet felt and heard.  and perhaps it is precisely when we recognize jesus in the others around us that jesus disappears, leaving us able to see the other for who they are: a beloved child of god, the light of christ shining within.

all of this requires risk and vulnerability.  for all the disciples knew, jesus could have come into their home and robbed them of all they had.  yet they took the risk and said, “stay with us.”  they needed the gift of this stranger’s presence and so they pleaded, “stay with us.”  they provided nourishment and jesus broke the bread, revealing what had always been there: christ’s presence among them, just as christ is present among us, revealing the truth of god’s love for each one of us, stranger and friend—angels among us unaware.

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