THE ROAD TO EMMAUS

Remember the story: Two men, Cleopas and his buddy, were out for a long walk. That was just what they needed at that moment in their lives. The man they believed was the Messiah had been arrested and crucified. All their hopes and dreams had been smashed to smithereens and they did not know what to do next. They had to get away to take some time to think things over, to talk about what happened, to see if they, somehow in some way, could make any sense out of it.

They knew it would do them no good to hang around Jerusalem in that upper room where everyone was still at sixes and sevens, just as distraught and upset and confused as they were. They needed to get away from all that commotion and whatever else was going on to see if they could process all of this. Then they met Jesus, and the processing began to take place.

These two men were very fortunate, blessed, even, and for two reasons. First of all, they took time to get away. Would that every time any one of us needed time to get away to do some serious thinking and reflecting, time to make sense out of what makes no sense, that that time and place would be available. Most of the time it is not. Even worse, when given that time and place, that space in our lives, we often do not take it. And then when the situation seems to go from bad to worse, we wonder what in the world has happened and what we are going to do next.

The second reason why these men were blessed is that the one who could make sense out of what had happened just happened upon the scene. Would that would happen to us every time we find ourselves in a similar situation, a situation where we need to make sense out of what has happened or is now happening. Would that someone would come into our lives to help us make order out of chaos. Sometimes that person does, but not always, as we know from experience.

Bad things, crazy things, nonsensical events happen to everyone. There is no escape. Good people get hurt. The best-laid plans go awry. The sure thing is a failure. Even if we could have prevented what happened from happening, it is now too late. Now all we can do is deal with the results. We have no choice in the matter. Well, of course we do. We can always delay and sometimes we do and when we do, we know the results: things go from bad to worse.

What we also know is that somehow in some way there will be that space, that opening, through which God’s grace can get in and help us move on. That grace comes in many ways and in many shapes and forms and often almost out of the clear blue sky, if you will. That’s the way God usually works. That is how it worked for those two men on their way to Emmaus. That’s how it works for us. What we have to do is look for that space and then grab it when it appears, like now, today.

Perhaps, just perhaps, given this pandemic, we now have been given space that we have long needed to take a serious look at our personal lives. How will we use it?

LEARNING THE HARD WAY

A couple of weeks ago we sent our kids and grandkids masks that we had made during this lock-down in case they needed to be out and about. When five-year-old Carter wanted to know what they were for, his parents explained to him I terms he could understand why he needed to wear one if and when the time came.

Carter got the message. They had to be out for two reasons: his Dad, who works from home, needed some supplies for work and Carmine, the Dog, badly needed his shots. The Vet had them do a drive-thru drop-off and pickup and Dad ran into the store to get what he needed. All three were masked. Carter, a little frightened because he understood the danger they were in, wore his mask and put his second mask on the stuffed animal he was taking with him as a security. He did not want to learn a lesson the hard way.

Good for Carter! The sad part is that learning the lesson the hard way is the only way we sometimes learn. As Arlena and I have been out on our daily walks, what we have noticed that everyone our age or around our age – namely retired – keep social distancing when we come near one another. Those younger than us, the 20-30 somethings do not. Yesterday a group of them were walking side by side. We avoided them like the plague because one of them may have given it to us. They seemed to care less.

Growing up we were all warned by our parents while supper was being made on the stove that we should not get too close to the hot pans or we might get burnt. We got too close and got burned and Mom or Dad had little or no sympathy for us. We were warned but the warning was not enough. We learned the hard, hot way. That is why it boggles my mind that so many, especially young people who should know better are not tasking this pandemic seriously, certainly not seriously enough.

Why? Of course I also ask why young people start smoking when they absolutely know smoking causes cancer; why people drink and drive when they know what the consequences can be and often are; why I eat the wrong foods or too much of them at times knowing full well that it is foolish to do so. Why do we do what we know is harmful to ourselves and often to others? I wish I knew.

When we put ourselves and/or others in harm’s way and think little or nothing about it in doing so, well, how can we not think about it? We know what we are doing, know it is wrong, yet do it anyway. That’s a sin. Sin is always deliberate. If I go out and put myself in harm’s way by not wearing a mask, if others put me in harm’s way by coming near me when they should stay a safe distance, we’re all sinning whether we think so or not.

To say that it is okay and even encourage people to put others or self in harm’s way by disregarding sound medical advice is simply unconscionable, sinful and wrong, learning the hard ward notwithstanding.

HOLY WEEK ON TELEVISION

It just wasn’t the same, but, then, how could it be? Society, by and large, was shut down, our churches included, and necessarily so. And they will continue to be shut down, no matter what the President says, as long as we do not feel safe. God understands and so do we, thank God! But we could still worship as best we could – and we did!

Arlena and I “attended” Palm Sunday, Good Friday and Easter services on television but truly not as spectators but as worshippers. There were three superb sermons, devout liturgies and wonderful music even with no real congregation present in the churches. They made due and we made due. It was the best we all could do given the circumstances which were totally out of our control.

What was in our control was staying safe, doing what we could do to keep well and keep in contact with the ones we love: family and friends. We made masks for our loved ones and got them out into the mail garbed in one of the masks we made. We ordered food from Aldi and Kroger (via our daughter) for Arlena’s Mom and for ourselves. We watched a lot of old movies, worked puzzles (me), did needlework (Arlena) and took long walks. The one Easter morning was eerie. We walk parallel to the Pennsylvania Turnpike. There were times, sometimes for almost a minute, when we say no one on the road: a sign of these times.

Back to last week’s worshipping experience. Apart from the truth that I hope we never have to do this again, I feel uplifted. I was reminded in one sermon that so much that I – all of us, if I may speak for all of us – take for granted, should not be taken for granted in the future: a conversation over coffee, fun at the ball park, children running free. On Good Friday I was reminded that, as I have always believed that there is always resurrection, that resurrection does not come in three days or sometimes and often in three months. But it comes.

And, finally, the Presiding Bishop on Easter, reminded us that it is Easter, the tomb was and is empty. As the women back then who went to the tomb were surprised by what they found, namely an empty tomb, so, too, we will be surprised by what we will find this Easter and the days to come all because that tomb was empty. Our God was there back then and our God is here right now. And our God will see us through.

This past Holy Week, probably more than ever before, at least for me, celebrating alone with my wife while sitting in comfortable seats, doing what we could do to help the helpers and, of course, ourselves, was probably the best Holy Week of my life. Yes, I missed what everyone else missed: being with family and friends, sharing worship together, renewing our Baptismal Promises: all that. But more than that, the message of Holy Week and Easter remains: there is resurrection. There will always be resurrection. That is the Easter promise. That is what we believe. That is what we know.

THERE ARE NO EXCEPTIONS. THERE IS ONLY THE RULE

Remember that old song, or is it an old saw: nobody knows the trouble I've seen; nobody knows my sorrow? The song is wrong. The truth is: everybody knows the trouble I've seen; everybody knows my sorrow. There are no exceptions. There is only the rule. And the rule is: nobody, but nobody, gets through this life without his or her share of troubles and sorrows. Nobody. That's the rule. No exceptions.

I was reminded about this truth recently while talking with several people about the troubles each was having, mostly with children. One of those conversations was overheard by others, who promptly chimed in about their troubles with their children. I don't know if it helped the person I was trying to console, but it sure felt good to me. We all have troubles with our children. (I know we did! And we have lived to tell about it!) A friend said to me once, "If someone tells you his kids are perfect, he's lying."

The same is true about other facets of our life: health, finances, job, and so forth. We all have troubles in these areas. That's the rule. No exceptions. Sometimes, of course, while in the midst of a problem, we realize we are not the exception. We are the rule. Yet we often wonder if we are getting not just our share, but also more than our fair share. Often we are convinced it is the latter. And if the truth were told, I do believe some people, maybe many people, seem to get more than their fair share.

Why this is true, I do not know. What I do know is God is always there in the midst of our suffering, whatever that suffering, and that God, especially now, will help us get through it somehow in some way. God always does. The problem is the getting through, even with God's help. Sometimes we think God has abandoned us as we suffer. Jesus certainly had those thoughts. He even expressed them as he suffered on that cross.

Jesus suffered intensely and unjustly. He was a victim of the rule. He was not nor could he be an exception, not if he was going to be truly human. He could have asked, as I am sure he was tempted to do, as we tempted to do, as we often do, "Why me?" The answer he would have received is the one we receive, "Why not you? There are no exceptions."

He had to get through it. He did. We have to get through it. We will get through it, as painful as it is sometimes. In fact, as we reflect back on our lives, we have. We have had our share of crosses that seemed unbearable, but with God’s grace and strength and the love and support of others, we bore them. In the end, as this special week in the year reminds us, there was for us then and there always be new life; there was and will be resurrection.

Does that mean God is uncaring, that God inflicts everyone just to inflict everyone? No; I do not believe that. I do not believe God wants anyone to suffer, even if it is the rule. Free will, foolishness and the luck of the draw are the reasons why we all suffer. What God promises is to be there with all the grace and strength we need to endure so that we can find new life, resurrection, when the pain and suffering cease. It always does. That, too, is the rule. That is what Holy Week is all about. Happy Easter.