WEEK TWO INTRODUCTION
KNOWING CHRIST
March 10 - March 16
The Apostle Paul writes in Philippians Chapter 3, “That I may know him and the power of his resurrection.” This certainly is the heart’s cry of every sincere believer. We join the early followers of Christ on the road to Emmaus as their hearts and ours “burn within us,” burn to know of Christ in intimate and personal ways. None of the disciples really understood who Christ was until after his resurrection from the dead. It was not until he “opened the scriptures” and “broke the bread” in his post-resurrection appearances that their eyes were opened. John Behr suggests that, “We are still on the road to Emmaus.” Through the church, the Scriptures are continually being opened to us in a variety of ways and bread continues to be broken in “remembrance of him,” in our Eucharistic gatherings. As we journey together this Lent our starting place is with Christ himself, the first true human being. It is through him and his example that we discover what it is to be fully human, to be fully alive.

Sunday, March 10
Understanding Who Christ Is
Scripture: Luke 24:25-31
And he said to them, “O foolish ones, and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken! Was it not necessary that the Christ should suffer these things and enter into his glory?” And beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, he interpreted to them in all the Scriptures the things concerning himself. So they drew near to the village to which they were going. He acted as if he were going farther, but they urged him strongly, saying, “Stay with us, for it is toward evening and the day is now far spent.” So he went in to stay with them. When he was at table with them, he took the bread and blessed and broke it and gave it to them. And their eyes were opened, and they recognized him. And he vanished from their sight. They said to each other, “Did not our hearts burn within us while he talked to us on the road, while he opened to us the Scriptures?”

Poetry:
Radiance
by Margaret Hasse

The Roman candle of a yard light
caramelizes the old snow.
The glow trespasses the dark hold
of December, dimming the view

of the night sky with its winter
triangle a boy strains to see
through the haze, as he lets his jacket
hang open, unzipped to the cold.

He knows to return through
the black cleft between buildings,
below electric wires that seem
to carry a little train of snow

on their slim rails, where he throws
the switch that shuts off the bulb
on its pole, that opens the dome
to a blast of stars in outer space,

to the pinpoint of Jupiter,
to the constellation of Orion hunting
the Great Bear that the boy follows
to find a smudge of gray–he can gaze

through that peep hole to another
galaxy also spangled with radiance
from stars that traveled two
and a half million light years

before appearing as a signal
in the rod cells of his eyes
that pass impulses through
neurons and nerves

to his brain that creates images.
He draws in a sharp breath,
the high voltage power box
of his chest hot and humming.

SEEING BUT NOT TRULY SEEING

Today’s scriptural vignette resonates with me. I have served the Body of Christ my whole life. I am committed to creating followers of Christ. One thing has become clear to me over the long years of service, that Bible study, as a regular discipline, does not necessarily produce disciples. We can studiously give great effort to gain knowledge and miss the One whom we study. So how do we become so dull of seeing? We have before us a clear example of this phenomenon.

On the trail, from Jerusalem to Emmaus, Cleopas, and an unnamed disciple friend, pondered what they had experienced that weekend. This familiar passage highlights two Jews taught from birth to look for the Messiah. The major events of crucifixion and resurrection they witnessed were foretold by the first testament and lived before them for three years by the one of whom the prophets spoke. Disappointed and confused by the testimony of the women of their company of the missing body from the tomb, these two deliberated what all this meant. Consternation reigned prominently in their minds.

Suddenly, a stranger joined them on the road and inquired of the substance of their conversation. As their eyes were kept from recognizing him they reflexively asked the question, “Are you the only one in Jerusalem who doesn’t know what happened?” They were incredulous.

In the intimate setting of their home beginning with Moses and the prophets, Jesus instructed them about himself. He broke the bread and blessed it. Stunned - these two inveterate disciples had their eyes opened. It was the great aha moment!  As good Jews they had been trained by the scriptures to look and wait for the coming of the Messiah. Perhaps they were with the band of seventy disciples who had followed Jesus during his earthly ministry. How could it be this question was being pondered as they walked the seven mile journey to Emmaus? Why had they never understood the first testament or what he had taught them during his earthly ministry?

In things of great familiarity and routine we can develop myopic vision so that in seeing we do not see - - what is real, true, and of value. Our two inveterate friends demonstrate this oddity. Having been lifelong practitioners of the routines of Judaism, they were now divinely awakened to the truth that was always before them. In the demonstration of breaking the bread, a signal of the relationship they were to have with Christ the King, their eyes were opened.

I’m aware how easily I can practice the Christian disciplines and miss the truth. Today’s poem catches the sense of this tendency in saying, “…where he throws the switch that shuts off the bulb, that opens the dome to a blast of stars in outer space.” As the poet recognizes the myopic focus that can mesmerize us, it sometimes takes a shocking event to awaken us from our stupor. In the routine of Bible study I can mimic the actions of the Jews who confronted Jesus when he had healed the lame man at the pool of Bethesda. His detractors denied his deity and authority over them, to which Jesus responded in Jn 5:39, “You search the Scriptures because you think that in them you have eternal life; and it is they that bear witness about me.”

The singer of today’s music expresses the right action, “so open wide your heart, feel yourself be blown apart, open wide, open wide.” Drink in the response of the two disciples depicted in the art piece. Stunned and overwhelmed to be recipients of the visitation of the Sovereign God-man who opened their eyes, they reach to touch and possess this one so recently resurrected.

It is a good thing to assess our response to the resurrected one who calls us and meets us on our own Emmaus road. Certainly this is true every time we partake of Communion. But more than that, we have the never-ending possibility of meeting and communing with the risen Lord. What joy it is when we experience this awakening.

Prayer:
Oh ABBA Father, call me to attention to your presence in my life. Holy Spirit, awaken me to Christ whom I claim to worship but sometimes find myself dull of seeing. Routines and habits clamor for my attention driving me to mindlessly pursue practices that can be unfulfilling. I want to “open wide my heart” and enjoy the freedom from my self-proclaimed goodness; to enjoy the sweet presence of Jesus my Lord. My desire is for him to break bread with me every day, to live Coram Deo, before the face of God.
Amen

Dr. Glenn T. Collard
Director of Coram Deo International
Charlotte, North Carolina

For more information about the artwork, music, and poetry selected for this day, we have provided resources under the “About” tab located next to the “Devotional” tab.