A Brush with Fame
April 23, 2023 + Pr. Michelle Sevig + The Third Sunday of Easter
Have you ever had a brush with fame? I’m not talking about waiting in line to have someone sign a book (Jimmy Carter, Anne Lammot) or attending a live taping of Oprah (done that too). I have a friend who often sees famous people, recognizing them at the airport, the theater or walking on the Mag Mile. The only famous person I’ve unexpectedly rubbed elbows with is Senator Al Franken at a pride parade in Minnesota. But it was pretty easy to recognize him marching with all the other Minnesota Democrats.
Recently I heard a story about an American couple that had a brush with fame, but they had no clue they were in the presence of royalty. The couple was on a hiking holiday in Scotland when they met Queen Elizabeth and her protection officer, Mr. Griffin, in a picnic area along the hiking path. During their conversation they asked her where she’s from. “I live in London,” Queen Elizabeth replied, “but I have a vacation home nearby that I’ve been visiting for about 80 years.” The couple replied, “Oh if you’ve been coming up here for that long then you must have met the queen.” And quick as can be she responded, “Well I haven’t, but Dick here meets her regularly.” The couple still did not recognize the Queen and asked her to take a photo of them with the man who has met frequently with the Queen. Thankfully he took photos of them with her too, so that once they got home and showed photos to friends and family they might realize just who they encountered on their journey in those Scottish hills. (Watch video of Mr. Griffin tell the story)
I wonder why they didn’t recognize one of the most recognizable people on the planet. Perhaps she was dressed differently than expected-muddy hiking boots, a scarf wrapped on her head instead of a crown, and maybe wasn’t carrying her signature handbag either. But more likely it was because the encounter was out of context. You wouldn’t expect to see the Queen of England hiking on the same foothills as other travelers. It’s highly unlikely that anyone would come that close to royalty without being vetted and invited to stand in her presence. No wonder they didn’t recognize her.
In the resurrection story we read this morning there are two followers of Jesus who have left Jerusalem and are heading home to Emmaus. They know Jesus pretty well, and yet “their eyes were kept from recognizing him.” One of them says, “Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know what’s happened here in the past few days?” He was a stranger. Not recognizable. It certainly never occurred to them that he might actually be Jesus–the one they were talking about as they walked along the path, the one they were grieving over because all their hopes had been lost when he died, the one they had stories about from the women about his body missing from the tomb, the one whom they said was alive. All of it was confusing, astounding, unbelievable.
They were not expecting Jesus to walk alongside them, so when he did they didn’t recognize him. Something similar happens in every resurrection account. Jesus is present, but he’s not immediately recognized. Mary thinks he’s the gardener until he speaks her name. Thomas doesn't recognize him until he touches Jesus’ wounds. And these travelers don’t recognize him until he breaks bread with them at the family meal.
Frederick Buechneer, in a sermon on this text said, “I believe that although the two disciples did not recognize Jesus on the road to Emmaus, Jesus recognized them, that he saw them as if they were the only two people in the world. And I believe…he also sees each of us like that too. I believe that, whether we recognize him or not, or believe in him or not, or even know his name, again and again he comes and walks a little way with us along whatever road we’re following.”
The Risen One meets us along the pathways of our life, shows up unexpectedly and walks right alongside us in our own grief and despair, just as he did to the Emmaus travelers. We might not recognize when the Holy One is in our midst, but still he recognizes us, calls us by name, invites us to look at his wounds and breaks bread with and for us.
We’re not just hearing/reading a story about something that happened to other people, long ago and far away. The same amazing things, the wonderful works of God, are happening here, today, in our lives, too. And if we open our eyes and see, then maybe our hearts, too, will burn within us.
Each week in our liturgy we are invited to experience the real presence of Jesus in the breaking of the bread. The travelers on the road to Emmaus didn’t experience the Risen Christ through physical evidence or biblical knowledge. But when Jesus took, blessed, broke and gave the bread their eyes and hearts were opened and Jesus was made known to them. It’s the same pattern–took, blessed, broke, gave–that was used when Jesus fed the 5,000. The same pattern–took, blessed, broke, gave–when he shared a passover meal with his disciples the night before he died. And in the liturgy we use today for our communion meal, the same pattern once again–took, blessed, broke, gave.
In many of the stories we have in the scriptures Jesus is often going to a meal, at a meal, or coming from a meal. Meals shaped the gatherings of the early Christians and meals at the Eucharistic table continue to shape Christians today. Here at this table we see Christ blessing, breaking and giving the bread–his very body–for the life of the world. As we eat and drink at this meal Christ is made known to us in the most mysterious and wondrous way.
And as we leave this table of welcome, love and grace we are emboldened to open our eyes to see the Holy One in our midst. Will we recognize Jesus in our neighbor who is sick or hungry? In the one who is grieving, anxious or angry? Will we recognize his presence when everything is going great and there is much to celebrate? Will we recognize him in unexpected people and places?
Maybe. I hope so. I pray that God will open our eyes and hearts to recognize the brush with fame we experience regularly with the Risen Christ.
