Normal
That same day two of them were walking to the village of Emmaus, about
seven miles out of Jerusalem. They were deep in conversation, going over all
these things that had happened. In the middle of their talk and questions,
Jesus came up and walked along with them. But they were not able to recognize
who he was. He asked, “What’s this you’re discussing so intently as you walk
along?” They just stood there, long-faced, like they had lost their best
friend. Then one of them, his name was Cleopas, said, “Are you the only one in
Jerusalem who hasn’t heard what’s happened during the last few days?” He said,
“What has happened?”
They said, “The things that happened to Jesus the Nazarene. He was a
man of God, a prophet, dynamic in work and word, blessed by both God and all
the people. Then our high priests and leaders betrayed him, got him sentenced
to death, and crucified him. And we had our hopes up that he was the One, the
One about to deliver Israel. And it is now the third day since it happened. But
now some of our women have completely confused us. Early this morning they were
at the tomb and couldn’t find his body. They came back with the story that they
had seen a vision of angels who said he was alive. Some of our friends went off
to the tomb to check and found it empty just as the women said, but they didn’t
see Jesus.”
Then he said to them, “So thick-headed! So slow-hearted! Why can’t you
simply believe all that the prophets said? Don’t you see that these things had
to happen, that the Messiah had to suffer and only then enter into his glory?”
Then he started at the beginning, with the Books of Moses, and went on through
all the Prophets, pointing out everything in the Scriptures that referred to
him.
They came to the edge of the village where they were headed. He acted
as if he were going on but they pressed him: “Stay and have supper with us.
It’s nearly evening; the day is done.” So he went in with them. And here is
what happened: He sat down at the table with them. Taking the bread, he blessed
and broke and gave it to them. At that moment, open-eyed, wide-eyed, they
recognized him. And then he disappeared. Back and forth they talked. “Didn’t we
feel on fire as he conversed with us on the road, as he opened up the
Scriptures for us?” They didn’t waste a minute. They were up and on their way
back to Jerusalem. (Luke 24:13-33)
Normal. When are
things going to get back to normal? Will we ever return to normal, or is there
going to be a new normal? Good questions. In Lord of the Rings, J. R. R. Tolkien takes the reader into the
shire, where the hobbits live. The shire is peaceful and its habitants are
content. It’s normal. And the shire is completely safe and secure until a key
figure steps in to inform the hobbits that the shire is not as secure as they
think. And from that point on, the hobbits’ world, their way of life, their
peace, even their very lives are now made insecure. Having been forewarned, Frodo and Sam, the two main characters in the book, leave home. It’s a
massive, 1,178 page novel, and for most of the book Frodo and Sam are not
home; they’re walking. Walking through a world that is not their home.
The Emmaus story
begins with Cleopas and his companion, maybe his wife, going home – a seven
mile, three-hour walk from Jerusalem. It had been three days since Jesus’
crucifixion and they were grieving and confused. They had hoped that Jesus was
their savior and redeemer, but that was then. Now it’s in ruins. Of course,
they’re travelling in the wrong direction since they’re walking away from
Jerusalem – the symbol of God’s presence. But for them Jerusalem is their place
of pain, a place of failure, and they want to leave. So, they simply walk away,
tired of not being home. They want to get back-to-work-normal; back-to-friends-normal;
back-to-life-without-masks-normal.
But the security
of normalcy is just an illusion. For Cleopas and his companion, their normal
was insecure because the certainty of “normal” was a mirage. And for us, it’s
equally vapid – it’s “I’ll be happy when this pandemic is over; when I can go
back to work; when I don’t have to wear this stupid mask like a bank robber;
when I don’t have to hear the phrase ‘social distancing’ anymore. I’ll be happy
when things get back to normal.” In other words, I’ll be happy when I achieve a
certain outcome. But that means we can only be happy if…. And when “if” is
postponed, our joy, our happiness, and our peace remain insecure until the outcome
is achieved. But what if “if” never happens? What happens then? Faith becomes
fragile, and hope becomes destructible if “if” never happens when.
Normal for the Christian
is not being home. In 1 Peter 1:17, the apostle wrote: “And
remember that the heavenly Father to whom you pray has no favorites. He will
judge or reward you according to what you do. So you must live in reverent fear
of him during your time here as temporary residents.” The Greek word for
“temporary residents” is paroikia
which means a “sojourner,” or a person traveling in a strange land; an exile.
It’s the Greek word for “not home.” In other words, as Christians, we are “not
home.” This same word, paroikia, is used
only one other time in Acts 13:17 when Paul says, “The God of this
people of Israel chose our fathers, and exalted the people when they dwelt as
strangers in the land of Egypt, and with mighty power brought he them out of
it.” Strangers; exiles. Normal for Christians is living “not
at home,” living “not normal,” but living as strangers in a strange land on our
way home.
It’s interesting that Mr. and Mrs. Cleopas, at least at one time,
had hope. “We had hoped he was the Messiah who had come to rescue Israel.”
Past-tense hope. But they could have chosen differently. They could have hoped,
and even explained to Jesus how that hope could have been validated. “Then some
women from our group of his followers were at his tomb early this morning, and
they came back with this amazing report.” (Luke 24:22) “They said his body was
missing and they had seen angels who told them Jesus is alive!” (vs. 23) “Some
of our men ran out to see, and sure enough, his body was gone, just as the
women said.” (vs. 24) An amazing report; a missing body; angels confirming that
Jesus was alive. That should have been enough to rekindle their hope. But it
wasn’t. They wanted to go home; they wanted to get back to normal, not back to
the future.
So, Jesus joined
them on the road. He met them where they were, not where he thought they should
be, or even where they ought to be since they were all walking away from
Jerusalem. Grief-stricken, the pair are in so much turmoil that they don’t even
recognize Jesus. But Jesus doesn’t judge them. Instead, he asks them to tell
him their story. And it was in the normal of their lives that Jesus met them
there. But we’re left thinking, “Hey, Cleo, how about a little optimism here?” But Christian’s aren’t optimists, as optimism is defined, because
optimism is not hope – and optimism can kill you.
Commander James
Stockdale was a naval aviator during the Vietnam War, and was shot down and
held as a POW for almost eight (8) years at the infamous “Hanoi Hilton.”
Stockdale was the most senior naval officer held captive, and was one of
several thousand American servicemen who were captured and taken as prisoners
of war. They were all held in tiny cells where they were tortured, beaten and
starved. Some were kept in solitary confinement, including Stockdale, who spent
more than half of his imprisonment in isolation. Stockdale was one of only 591 service
members who came home.
In James C.
Collins’ book, Good to Great, Collins
writes about a conversation he had with Stockdale regarding his coping strategy
during his imprisonment. When Collins asked who were the ones who didn't make
it out of the “Hilton,” Stockdale replied: “Oh, that's easy, the optimists. They
were the ones who said, 'We're going to be out by Christmas.' And Christmas
would come, and Christmas would go. Then they'd say, 'We're going to be out by
Easter.' And Easter would come, and Easter would go. And then Thanksgiving, and
then it would be Christmas again. They died of a broken heart.”
Optimism is not
hope because hope is not based on an outcome. Hope is based on the resurrected
Christ. David said in Psalm 16:8: “I keep my eyes always on the Lord. With him
at my right hand, I will not be shaken.” Hope is a present trust in Jesus
extended into the future. Remember where he was – murdered on a cross – and
remember where he is now – at the right hand of the Father. Alive. And because
he’s risen, you never walk alone. You may not be home, but you’re never alone
because hope is not lost; it’s found in Jesus who’s at your right hand.
In a scene from the
Hobbit, Frodo is tired – tired of not
being home – and says to Sam, “I can't do this, Sam.” Sam, having been with Frodo every step of the way, says to his
friend, “I know. It's all wrong. By rights we shouldn't even be here. But we
are. It's like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo…. And sometimes you didn't want
to know the end, because how could the end be happy? How could the world go
back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it's only
a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And
when the sun shines, it'll shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that
stayed with you…. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back
only they didn't. They kept going. Because they were holding on to something.”
“What are we holding on to, Sam?” Frodo asks.
“That there's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo...and it's worth fighting
for.”
J. R. R. Tolkien
was a Christian, and he knew there was good in this world – Jesus. And because
of Jesus, you never walk alone. He’s here now, and he will be in the end.
Because there will come a time when hope is no longer an option; when hope will
no longer be necessary. There will come a time when we don’t have hope, because
we’ll have Jesus. And Jesus will have us. Then we can rest; then we can be
secure; then we can be home. So when will we return to normal? As exiles,
nothing is ever really normal. Normal is as normal does – it ties hope to an
outcome. And when your outcome is anything other than knowing Jesus and him
crucified, you’ll never truly be home. So maybe the question isn’t so much, “When
will life return to normal?” but “When will our hope be revealed?” Come
quickly, Lord Jesus.
Grace,
Randy
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