cleopas, emmaus, and the finer aspects of intuition
So, generally speaking, if one wants to commit to re-starting regular blog posts it might be best to do so during a week that doesn't wind up involving a sick kid and a sick husband followed by a sick self, with three days off for conferences. Mental note.
However, as I reemerge from yesterday's snuffly haze I am once again capable of connecting one thought to another (maybe? you be the judge). I've been reading through the Psalms, but some days I find myself wanting a dose of Jesus, and on those days I have a habit of flipping to the Gospels and seeing where I land. Today, I found myself on the road to Emmaus (Luke 24:13-53).
A couple observations: first, how cool is it that when Jesus walks with "two of them" on the road to this village seven miles from Jerusalem, at least one of the "two" isn't someone we've heard of before? Jesus isn't appearing to a big kahuna like John or Peter... Jesus is "interpret[ing] to them all the things about himself in all the scriptures" to some guy called Cleopas. I don't know about you, but I feel much more like a Cleopas than a Peter. And this random follower of Jesus -- not one of the "celebrity" disciples -- is the one with whom Jesus spends this precious time. A useful reminder that we are all important to God.
Second: after Jesus breaks bread, makes himself known, and proceeds to vanish from their sight, Cleopas and the other disciple (we don't even know his or her name -- or gender! note that in the NRSV, at least, there are no identifying pronouns) reflect: "Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?"
Jesus was speaking, and they didn't know it was him -- but as they reflected upon their intuition they recognized that something within them really had been aware that the words they were hearing were from God.
How often are we like those disciples? Their story is a familiar one to me. I find it very easy to dismiss my sense of intuition, to disavow that inner kernel of understanding that the words of another, the passage I am reading, or the "burning" feeling in my heart really is telling me something important. The story of the road to Emmaus reminds us that we need to listen and heed our intuition. Cleopas and his unnamed companion were blessed to experience the real presence of Jesus -- but so are we. The bursts of insight we receive "open the scriptures to us," too.
However, as I reemerge from yesterday's snuffly haze I am once again capable of connecting one thought to another (maybe? you be the judge). I've been reading through the Psalms, but some days I find myself wanting a dose of Jesus, and on those days I have a habit of flipping to the Gospels and seeing where I land. Today, I found myself on the road to Emmaus (Luke 24:13-53).
A couple observations: first, how cool is it that when Jesus walks with "two of them" on the road to this village seven miles from Jerusalem, at least one of the "two" isn't someone we've heard of before? Jesus isn't appearing to a big kahuna like John or Peter... Jesus is "interpret[ing] to them all the things about himself in all the scriptures" to some guy called Cleopas. I don't know about you, but I feel much more like a Cleopas than a Peter. And this random follower of Jesus -- not one of the "celebrity" disciples -- is the one with whom Jesus spends this precious time. A useful reminder that we are all important to God.
Second: after Jesus breaks bread, makes himself known, and proceeds to vanish from their sight, Cleopas and the other disciple (we don't even know his or her name -- or gender! note that in the NRSV, at least, there are no identifying pronouns) reflect: "Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?"
Jesus was speaking, and they didn't know it was him -- but as they reflected upon their intuition they recognized that something within them really had been aware that the words they were hearing were from God.
How often are we like those disciples? Their story is a familiar one to me. I find it very easy to dismiss my sense of intuition, to disavow that inner kernel of understanding that the words of another, the passage I am reading, or the "burning" feeling in my heart really is telling me something important. The story of the road to Emmaus reminds us that we need to listen and heed our intuition. Cleopas and his unnamed companion were blessed to experience the real presence of Jesus -- but so are we. The bursts of insight we receive "open the scriptures to us," too.
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