St. Martin's Episcopal Church

 

Taking, Blessing, Breaking, Giving, We See Jesus

(Luke 24:13-35)

The Reverend Shirley Smith Graham

St. Martin’s Episcopal Church, Williamsburg, Virginia, April 6, 2008

 

            One of the things I love about living in Williamsburg is enjoying the walking paths.  There are paved walking paths, marked nature trails; there are plenty of ways to be out of doors and opening up to the healing power of exercise.

            The path most accessible to me is the paved one that parallels Longhill Road.  Perhaps like me, as you’ve been driving along, you’ve noticed people striding along the path, beneath the pines, dodging the migrating birds feasting on Virginia bounty.  Sometimes you see a person walking alone, having set a quick pace, set on doing aerobic exercise.  Sometimes you see a pair of folks walking at a more leisurely pace, talking as they go, careful to keep the pace slow enough to allow plenty of breath for conversation. 

            Now I ask you to use the eye of your imagination, and watch as this pair walks down the path, talking intently as they stride along, heads bent toward each other.  And now imagine another person, more intent perhaps on a heart-accelerating workout, behind the more casually-paced pair.  And this individual quick-walking along rapidly catches up to the pair.  But instead of going around the pair, this third person now comes alongside the pair and gently asks, “What are you talking about.”

            Well, so engrossed in their conversation are the two people that they accept the presence of the third, perhaps as the path of least resistance, the way to keep talking about what they’re talking about without having to politely change the topic to accommodate this newcomer.

            Did the newcomer know that the habit of this pair was to do their walking exercise and end back at New Town, specifically at Panera, to enjoy coffee and rolls?  Well, whether he did or not, there they are now.  And, after waiting in line, all three now find themselves in a cushy seated booth, under the glow of the gentle lamps.  Seated now, the three find themselves paused in their conversation, a pause that is just about to end,  now that the rolls are on the table and the coffee is doctored with blue packets, yellow packets, brown packets or whatever makes coffee taste just right to the three.  One of the walkers opens her mouth to pick up the conversation where they left off, but she is abruptly interrupted by the newcomer who lifts up his bread roll, gives thanks, breaks the bread and gives it to his newly met friends.  He doesn’t explain, but his gesture stops all words.  How could one witness that ritual act and not see Jesus?

            Our memory of who Jesus is is so intertwined with this ritual act that we cannot do the act without remembering Jesus.

            And, in fact, it is in this moment of taking, blessing, breaking and giving, it is in this moment that the disciples in Luke’s gospel story recognize their fellow walker as Jesus.  Taking, blessing, breaking, giving.  Isn’t this what he did over and over again, with bread, fish and people alike?  Taking, blessing, breaking, giving: this was his way with the world. 

Jesus, as God incarnate in flesh, would take whomever came across his path – rich young men, learned Sadducees, studying Pharisees, tax collectors, discarded women, children – he would take them into his company. 

Then Jesus would bless them – letting each one be present in the company of God-made-flesh, with no fear that their flesh might pollute or diminish his Godness. 

Then Jesus would break them – well, not literally break, but metaphorically, yes.  Jesus broke open the demon-possessed man, freeing him from Legion (8.26ff).  Jesus broke the disciples free from their fears, taking Simon Peter, who says first, “Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful man” to a new mission as Jesus says to him, “Don’t be afraid; from now on you will catch [people]” (Luke 5.8,11).  Jesus breaks his disciples open to do business in the world in a radically different way: “[L]ove your enemies, do good to them, and lend to them without expecting to get anything back” (Lk. 6.35).

Then Jesus would give those he had broken open back to the world to be blessing, to be his own healing hands, his own journeying feet, his own outreaching love.  As Jesus told the formerly demon-possessed man (now healed): “Return home and tell how much God has done for you” (Lk. 8.39a).  Everything God did on earth can be understood within the frame of taking, blessing, breaking and giving.  As a result, in the celebration of the Table, in what we call the Great Thanksgiving, or Eucharist, we see a sign of our entire lives with Jesus.  Every moment – whether we are quilting with a friend, confronting a neighbor, taking care of children, working 8 to 5 in a cubicle, or paying our taxes – every moment is made a better moment for being modeled on what we do at this Table – taking, blessing, breaking, giving.

            I am suggesting that we model every day of our lives on what we experience at the Lord’s Table.  I am suggesting that the measure of our personal accomplishments be, am I taking, blessing, breaking and giving?  How did I do today? Am I taking, blessing, breaking and giving? 

I am suggesting that the measure of our church life here at St. Martin’s be, are we taking, blessing, breaking and giving?  How are we doing?  Are we, corporately, as an assembly, taking, blessing, breaking and giving? 

I am suggesting that the very shape of our lives takes on the action of the Lord’s Table.  I am suggesting that we lead Eucharist-shaped lives.

            Our religious identity reminds us that we are made in God’s image.  Our vocation as disciples of Jesus is to spend the rest of our days letting God’s image show through us, letting Jesus appear to us, letting Jesus appear in us.  When we take, bless, break and give, Jesus is here.  Amen.


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