Tom Wright, in his little commentary on Luke (Luke for Everyone), suggests that Luke frames Jesus' ministry with stories of two couples who are befuddled by Jesus' actions. In the beginning we meet Mary and Joseph as loving parents baffled by the strange behavior of their child who has hidden himself away at the temple while they and the rest of the family begin the journey home. When, after three days they had found him, they asked him what on earth he was thinking. Jesus replied simply: "Did you not know that I had to be in my father's house?" And at the end of Luke we meet another couple, separated from Jesus, befuddled by what had become of him on the cross. His reply to Cleopas and Mary on the road to Emmaus is similar to his strange reply to Mary and Joseph. To Cleopas and Mary he says: "was it not necessary that Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into his glory"? In effect, Jesus, who says, I am doing my father's work when he is the temple is now saying to Cleopas and Mary the same thing: the suffering on the cross is God's work even though Cleopas and Mary have not understood it to be up to this point.
Wright speaks of Cleopas and Mary in this way:
"Their slowness of heart and lack of belief in the prophets had not.... been a purely spiritual blindness. It had been, a matter of telling, and living, the wrong story—or, at least the right story in the wrong way. But now, suddenly, with the right story in their head and Hearts, a new possibility—huge, astonishing, and breathtaking—started to emerge before them. Suppose the reason the key would not fit the lock was that they were trying the wrong door? Suppose Jesus’ execution was not the clear disproof of his messianic vocation but its confirmation and climax? Suppose the cross was not one more example of the triumph of paganism over God’s people but was actually God’s means of defeating evil once and for all? Suppose this was, after all, how the exile was designed to end, how sins were to be forgiven and how the kingdom was to come? Suppose this was what God’s light and truth looked like, coming unexpectedly to lead his people back into his presence? As this strange realization began to creep over them, they arrived at their house and invited the stranger to stay with them. He quietly assumed the role of host, taking, blessing, and breaking the bread. They recognized him, and he vanished. And with that recognition the story of the last hour itself suddenly made sense. “Were not our hearts burning within us when he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us” (24:32). And their testimony to each other turns into eager testimony to the others as they hurry back to Jerusalem, where their own news is met with answering news from the eleven: The Lord has indeed risen—he has appeared to Simon (24:34)! Then they told what had taken place on the road, and how he was known to them in the breaking of the bread (24:35)."
And so we find ourselves with Cleopas and Mary, hoping for God to work in our lives and this world. Cleopas and Mary were, like many of their contemporary Jewish brothers and sisters, likely hoping for God to make himself known by overthrowing the Roman Empire and giving Israel imperial status. But for us: we must ask ourselves, what are our misplaced hopes? How have we read in the wrong way the story of God at work in the world through Jesus? Have we woven our own hopes into God's story in such a way that we have placed the weight of our deepest hopes and longings in the wrong things? Have we placed our deepest hopes and longings in career aspirations, in our children bringing us nothing but happiness, in finding the perfect spouse, etc.? Or, more darkly, but no less really, have we been disappointed enough with unmet hopes that we have covered up our longings for God by turning our hearts over to various addictive life-styles (e.g. escaping into work, obsession over material possessions, sexual obsession, or co-dependant behaviors where other people leave little room for God's freeing grace to be at work in our lives)?
Jesus comes to us just as he did to Cleopas and Mary and speaks words of grace, reminding us, as he did them, that the cross is at the center of what God is doing to redeem the world. Jesus is, in so many words, saying to us: "it is for the hope of the world that I died on the cross; you have been listening to the wrong story; let me take the story of your life into my story of the redemption of the world; let me teach you that the hope that does not disappoint is grounded in my love for you. Your satisfaction and peace in this life will come from knowing that you are given the most treasured place of dignity, for to you is given the the mission of giving the love that God has given to this world through me, to you, to others. You are called and graced by God to give forgiveness to friends and foes, to serve and give out of your resources to others; and all those enemies of human dignity that you have used to deaden your hope.... well, as you get to know my stubborn love you can begin to see your identity not as a victim, not as one who has hoped in the wrong things, not as an addict of this or that.... but your understanding of yourself will grow and continue to change as you begin to know yourself as my adopted younger sisters and brothers, loved by God forever.
Jesus story has become our story as our lives find meaning, hope and direction in his life in this world; didn't you know?
Questions for discussion:
1. Wright suggests that Cleopas and Mary were reading the right story in the wrong way (see above). Give an example or two of how we tend to the same sort of thing when we think of the story of God's promises to bring redemption? Think of examples of the contemporary Western church in general and perhaps offer examples of how you and your friends tend to read the right story the wrong way in your personal lives (these might bleed over into the next question).
2. It is suggested in the homily that we sometimes hope in the wrong things. Some examples were offered. Can you offer some other examples?
3. It is suggested in the homily that there is often a correlation between disappointed hopes and the embrace of certain ways of thinking, being and loving that are pretty much designed to numb the pain of hopes dashed by offering escapes, fantasy vacations, etc. How does the gospel speak healing to this dynamic?
4. Give examples of unhelpful responses (responses not saturated by the gospel) to any or all three of the following mistakes Christians often make:
(a) when we realize that we have either read the right story the wrong way; (b) when we realize we have put the hope we should have placed in God and his love in the wrong things; (c) when we realize that we have embraced sinful and self-destructive patterns of dealing with the pain of hopes dashed. Sometimes it is helpful to see what an unhelpful response is in order to be more grateful for a gospel-based response.
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