journey with thy servants as they
now set upon their way, and defend them from all evil.
–Orthodox prayer,
said before beginning a journey
Recently I began reading the book The Orthodox Way by Bishop
Kallistos Ware. It is an introduction to the way of life of Orthodox
Christians. I’ve only read the first chapter of the book but it has intersected
well with thoughts I’ve been thinking about Easter, the resurrection and the
involvement of Jesus in our daily lives.
Ware says that “to be a Christian is to be a traveler” and I
resonate with that sentiment. We are always on the move, always being moved by
God along some new and unknown path. And while the resurrection assures that
God is alive and with us, in what sense is that true? How does Jesus help us on
the journey? How is he our companion? How does he speak to us and us to Him?
I admit that part of my reason for wanting to write about
this topic selfishly involves the opportunity to vent a little bit,
particularly regarding the decision making of Christians, especially the college
decision making process (is there actually a process?) of 18 year old females
who also happen to be great volleyball players. Having observed this population
for several years, I feel I am qualified to draw some conclusions from them.
And I think what I’ve learned applies to the wider Christian evangelical
population as well.
I often joke with my assistant coaches that God hates our
volleyball program, because he keeps telling the most talented players not to
come to Gordon College. Whenever I hear a recruit say that “God told me to go
to fill-in-the-blank Christian University” (sidenote: Wheaton and Grove City
seem to be popular with God these days), I cringe inside. Part of the cringing
undoubtedly comes from frustration and disappointment at the recruit’s
decision, but another part comes from my feeling that they are giving a
dishonest account of what has happened.
I think most of us who have been following God for any
length of time could count on one hand the number of occasions where we’ve been
convinced that God mandated a particular decision to us. Because this seems to
happen so infrequently, whenever I hear someone offering that explanation
without any more detail, I immediately become skeptical. It seems to me that
the answer, “God told me to” is the easiest way to silence opposition (who am I
to question God?), take no responsibility for the decision, and shut down all
conversation surrounding it. Thus, it is a very attractive option, most notably
for college and dating decisions. I am also skeptical because my experience
tells me that God is not bound by a human timetable for decisions. And yet,
according to the high school seniors that I’ve encountered, it appears that one
deadline God adheres to is the May 1st college deposit cutoff. In
fact, I would venture to say that April is God’s most vocal month of the year,
in relation to college-bound teenagers. (This concludes the sarcastic portion
of our show. Or, as we say in geekspeak, </rant>).
So if God does not adhere to our timetables and constraints
for decision making, and He rarely makes his will known in such a way that
removes all doubt, then how is He present with us? How does He walk with us?
And conversely, how do we walk with Him?
The story of Jesus on the road to Emmaus with Luke and
Cleopas illuminates some answers that most closely resemble what I’ve
experienced of God. For those who don’t know the story, I’ll summarize it. On
the same day that Jesus rose from the dead, two men, Luke and Cleopas, were
walking the seven mile road from Jerusalem to Emmaus. Jesus joined them on the
journey but they did not recognize Him. He asked them what they were discussing
as they walked along and they proceeded to recount the story of Jesus’ life,
death, their hopes that He had been the Messiah, and the strange story of His
supposed resurrection. Jesus then explained the Scriptures and the words of the
prophets to them to show them that He was indeed the Messiah. When they arrived
at Emmaus, Jesus was going to go on but the two men asked him to stay the night
with them. They sat down to eat and as Jesus broke bread and gave it to the two
men, they recognized who he was. Then, Jesus disappeared.
I think this is a beautiful example of an experience of the
risen Jesus. I know I can draw several parallels between this story and my own
experience.
He is always with me,
even when I don’t recognize Him.
The men on the road to Emmaus were deeply saddened and
perplexed. They had such high hopes that this man Jesus was indeed the Messiah.
But his death had left them disappointed and confused. In addition, they had
just heard rumors of his resurrection that very morning but had no proof and
were unsure what to believe.
There have been several times in my life where the road I
followed didn’t lead to where I thought it would and should go. I have
experienced disappointment, confusion, and sadness in those times. And I’ve
also had glimmers of hope that I wanted to believe were true…and hesitated to
believe them for fear of being disappointed again.
Just like He was with the men on the road to Emmaus, Jesus
was with me during those times, even though I didn’t recognize Him.
He wants to hear my
thoughts, not just tell me what to think.
Jesus, who knows all thoughts, asked Luke and Cleopas, “What
are you discussing together as you walk along?” He invited them into a
conversation with Him. Even when the men alluded to the events of the past
three days, which had all happened TO Jesus and which everyone in Jerusalem
knew about, He asked them, “What events?” He wanted to hear the story from
their own mouths and hearts. After listening, he explained the Scriptures to
them.
In the same way, I think Jesus wants to have a conversation
with me. He wants to ask me questions that dig into the depths of my heart and
He wants to hear my answers. He wants to hear my sorrow and my joy, my hopes
and my expectations (and black holes and revelations, to quote Muse). Only then
can I arrive at a place where He can show me who He truly is.
He is a mystery,
showing Himself when He chooses, not when I choose.
The end of this story is the most beautiful part, even if it
is the most perplexing and potentially frustrating. I suppose it is the most
beautiful to me because it lines up with my experience of the risen Lord. In
this story, I recognize the same person that I have a relationship with.
Jesus, having walked the whole seven miles from Emmaus to
Jerusalem with these men, agrees to stay with them for the night. He has kept
himself hidden from them for the entire journey, even while he was revealing to
them that He himself was the Messiah! As Jesus breaks bread for the meal and
gives it to them, they suddenly recognize him. Immediately, he disappears.
He is such a mystery, only willing to reveal himself when He
chooses. As I said before, there have been stretches of my life where I did not
recognize Jesus walking with me. But there have also been flashes where He
shows himself. It is sometimes through a book, or through another person, or
through a circumstance, but usually it is something very simple and mundane,
like the breaking of bread. But all of a sudden, He is clearly recognizable.
And then, just as suddenly as He came, He goes again.
Frederick Buechner, one of my favorite authors, describes this
phenomenon well. “Religion
as a word points essentially, I think, to that area of human experience where
in one way or another man happens upon mystery as a summons to pilgrimage, a
come-all-ye; where he is led to suspect the reality of splendors that he cannot
name; where he senses meanings no less overwhelming because they can only be
hinted at in myths and rituals, in foolish, left-handed games and cloudy
novels; where in great laughter perhaps and certain silences he glimpses a
destination that he can never know fully until he reaches it.”
Similarly,
Bishop Ware writes that the pilgrimage which mystery summons us to is not an
outward journey, but “a journey through the inward space of the heart.” On this
pilgrimage, Jesus is both “the host who welcomes us at the conclusion of the
journey, yet He is also the companion who walks by our side every step upon the
Way.” Or, in the words of Saint Nicolas Cabasilas, “He is both the inn at which
we rest for a night and the final end of our journey.” Often, the nature of our
questions to God limits the kind of answers we are willing to receive. If all
we are asking is where we should go to college, we may never allow ourselves to
hear the answer that Jesus, not Wheaton or Grove City or even Gordon, is the
destination.
As
some other wise person, whose name I cannot find or remember, once said, “We
live life forwards but understand it backwards.” In trying or claiming to understand
our life forwards, we miss out on the mystery of Christ that propels us on our pilgrimage.
Instead, we should walk humbly along our journey with Him and toward Him,
trusting that He is by our side every step of the way, sharing our deepest
thoughts, hopes and fears with Him, and keeping a watchful eye for Him to
reveal himself to us.
- Ruth
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