Preaching Paths 23.04.23

Sally A. Brown, Professor Emerita, Princeton Theological Seminary

NT accounts of encounters with the risen Lord have in common a peculiar feature: in none of them is Jesus readily recognizable.

Early Easter morning, Mary assumes she has met up with the gardener until she hears Jesus speak her name (John 20:15).  In John 21, the disciples nearing shore after a fruitless night of fishing see a “stranger” on the beach. John (“the beloved disciple”) declares to Peter that “it is the Lord!” – but only after they’ve followed the stranger’s suggestion to cast the net on the other side of the boat, resulting in a net-straining catch.  Even then, when all have gathered for breakfast on the beach, John inserts this odd note: “None of the disciples dared to ask him, ‘Who are you?’ because they knew it was the Lord” (John 21:12b).

In today’s gospel text, Cleopas and “another disciple” (some suggest this may have been a woman) walk despondently away from Jerusalem, home to Emmaus. They are joined by someone they do not recognize. They surmise that he is “a stranger” in Jerusalem, since he seems unaware of the trial and execution of Jesus of Nazareth. After hearing their tragic story, the “stranger” proceeds to amaze them, threading together these events and texts in the Hebrew scriptures that describe the mission and fate of the anticipated Anointed One of God. But even this is not enough to render the Risen Lord recognizable! (Perhaps a caution to preachers overly confident in the power of the preached Word.)

Only at table, as Christ undertakes the actions now so familiar to us in the Eucharist—taking, blessing, and breaking the bread—do they recognize their Lord. In that instant, he is gone, the broken bread silently testifying.

In every case, it is what the “stranger” says and does, and to what effect, that causes his followers to see in him their Teacher and Lord.

Living, as we do, in a time when face recognition software can certify our identities, we may be frustrated that the Risen Christ can be present and yet not be recognizable. Why not “clinch” the case for resurrection with a detailed description of unmistakable physical features??

Maybe these stories offer the only clues we need. In our wrenching sorrow, in our locked-behind-closed-doors fear, in our heartbroken trudging away from the site of our dashed hopes, in the mystery of ordinary bread taken/blest/broken: there—perhaps especially there—the deeds and words of a perfect stranger may reveal the life-saving presence of our Lord.