We often talk about growing.
Growing up into Christ.
Like a tree in the sunshine.
A little here.
A little there.
A bud, a leaf, a branch.
A branch reaching out … to catch ever more sunlight.
To grow a little bit more.
This year.
Next year.
Because if a tree isn’t growing, then what?
If a tree isn’t growing, it’s dying.
If a tree isn’t growing, maybe it’s dead already.
It is the nature of life to keep on growing.
Trees keep on growing.
And for us, as a species, we grow, too.
Wiser, we hope.
Older, for sure.
Maybe a little larger than what we want.
In some of the wrong places.
Ears keep growing …
Maybe that’s an important lesson.
Listening becomes important as time moves on.
We all grow, in some way or another.
Until we take our last breath.
And, then, here, at least, we grow no more.
Dust to dust.
Earth to earth.
Ashes to ashes.
But until that moment, we grow!
Maybe we grow in the wrong direction.
Like an ingrown toenail.
Or an ingrown hair.
Maybe we grow more stubborn.
Bitter.
Angry.
Lonely.
Frustrated.
I guess we can grow in all the wrong ways.
But we can grow in the best ways, too.
We can grow in our capacities to love and forgive.
To put up with life as it comes our way.
To make the best of it.
To keep on loving.
To hold on to large ideas and generous thoughts.
Psalm 37 says it well:
The righteous are generous and giving.
Plants grow when they’re well-tended.
Good soil … adequate water … some weed-pulling.
It takes time to grow.
Weeds grow up quickly.
Beautiful trees take their time.
So does a tomato plant.
Or a child on her way to adulthood.
It takes time to become a Christian.
We are Christians, for sure, in the love of God.
But we’re always working it out, aren’t we?
Paul the Apostle tells us to work out our salvation, with fear and trembling …
Salvation is ours, because of Christ.
What he gives to us, he truly gives.
Yet we have to work some things out.
Lots of things actually.
It’s never a done deal for us.
There’s always another step to be taken.
A new thought to be pondered.
A new demand … a new moment … a new day.
What we knew yesterday doesn’t quite fit the bill today.
We may have forgiven yesterday, but we have to forgive again today.
What we trusted to be true last year may no longer hold up.
Life is always a challenge.
Life is always a gift.
Life requires that we keep on keepin’ on.
Like a tree in the sunshine.
Like that tomato plant in the backyard.
Like the disciples on the road to Emmaus.
They were disciples!
But now it seemed to them as if the road ahead came to an end the day Jesus died.
Rumors of his empty tomb, that’s one thing.
But who knows?
The road came to an end the day Jesus died.
So they take the road home.
And on the way, they’re met by a stranger who strolls along with them, listening to their conversation, and then asks them, What’s going on?
They’re surprised he doesn’t know.
So they tell him.
And what they tell him tells him they don’t have a clue.
They need to grow a little bit more.
Some weeds need to be pulled.
Some hard soil needs to be broken up.
Jesus says, You’re foolish … and you shouldn’t be … you should be smarter than this.
I guess that’s a compliment.
We can be smarter than this.
But who doesn’t need a good teacher?
To explains a few things, now and then.
Jesus does for them what he always does.
Jesus turns to Scripture.
The disciples know it well.
Jesus knows it well.
But knowing the words is one thing.
Knowing what they could mean is another.
Jesus reminds them that suffering is a part of God’s program.
God chooses the hard road, not the easy one.
God gives, and doesn’t take.
And through the hard road, and all the giving, there is glory.
That’s what catches their attention.
It’s not about power and conquest.
It’s not about sword and bow.
It’s not about might and dominance.
It’s not about self-defense or getting the best of others.
It’s a different way of looking at things.
Jesus reminds them: if you look carefully at Moses and go through all the Prophets, you’ll see it … not what you expected … but you will see it.
But enough of words.
Enough teaching.
Night is falling … they reach Emmaus.
Jesus moves away from them, to be on his way.
But they ask him to stay the night.
A little piece of Middle Eastern social behavior.
One never intrudes … or imposes … or expects hospitality.
And one never allows a stranger to go on at night alone.
Jesus does his part.
The disciples do theirs.
And then at the table, something odd.
Jesus becomes the host.
He takes the bread, blesses it, and gives it to them.
And suddenly, they can see.
Their eyes are opened.
They know him.
And then he’s gone.
That’s all they needed.
Just a little nudge.
Some teaching.
Some bread.
They look at one another.
Weren’t our hearts on fire when he talked with us along the road? … were not our hearts burning when he explained the scriptures for us?
They got up quickly.
They hit the road, again.
This time, back to Jerusalem.
Because the story didn’t end the day Jesus died.
The road ahead goes on.
For those disciples.
And for you and me, too.
To God be the glory.
Amen and Amen!
