Faith in the Fire | Giving Up to Begin Again & Find Home Again

 

The Road to Emmaus by Gracie Morbitzer-Collins, 2023 A.D. 

Jesus let them feel.

They were honest.

"We 'had' hope," they say.

He gives them a reason

to resurrect that hope.

+ Danté Stewart

I like to collect pieces of artwork based on the Emmaus story from which we get the name of our parish in Worcester, Massachusetts. Some of my favorite pieces are included on the Visio Divina page on Emmaus City's website. 

Along with Ukrainian Ivanka Demchuk's iconic "Road to Emmaus," another one of my most recent favorite pieces of art is "The Road to Emmaus" by Artist Gracie Morbitzer-Collins featured in her book, The Modern Saints (seen at the top of this post). 

The artistry and vitality of Gracie's style matches perfectly with Danté Stewart's incendiary writing in his memoir in the chapter entitled, "Back Roads," where he brings the Emmaus story to life in vivd detail. 

Discovering both these verbal and visual works of art within days of each other inspired this post, along with the prayerful to desire to have my eyes "turned toward heaven." This colorful scene and story depicting the journey to Emmaus with Jesus ignited fresh faith in me again, and I hope they do the same for you today.

The Fire

When I open up this old Bible ...

I am suddenly surrounded by

preachers and mothers and friends

and saints and sinners who

tried to love and live well —

while failing, learning, and

trying again. ...

These words carried both

weight and worth and worship

and worry and whatever "w" words

you can describe — words that

put back together again when you,

your body, and your country

are shattered.

Faith Is Sometimes Giving Up

To Begin Again

I think a lot about the disciples 

on the road to Emmaus, 

those two who had lost faith 

in a moment of great struggle. 

I have often heard this story 

as a story of the triumph 

of the meeting, then rushing back 

to Jerusalem to tell the good word. 

It has been told as a story 

that moves quickly beyond pain,

rushing to have some sort of

crescendo of joy.

So much of what we hear of

Christian stories wanted to move

beyond the darkness of Friday night

and rush to Sunday,

the good news of resurrection

on the other side of death,

power on the other side of pain.

That is indeed part of the story,

but there is more.

We must look again.

They had been with Jesus;

they had seen Him.

His rugged dark carpenter's hands,

making both wood and bodies come alive,

dance, shout for joy, 

become beautiful again.

They had also seen 

those same hands nailed

and held to the bloody platform

as his dark flesh was broken.

They had witnessed poor

little children running up to him, 

nestling in his arms,

sharing laughter,

probably showing off their little toys,

knowing Jesus would have time.

They had also witnessed him

like a wounded child, 

helpless, in danger, hurt.

Ultimately killed. No, lynched.

That's what they witnessed,

a lynching.

Now they are on the road.

Lonely. Terrified.

Maybe one of them threw up

from the sickness of witnessing

a public execution of a body like theirs.

Sort of like we witness them

on our cellphones.

That churning of the stomach

as you see someone pass

from life to death.

But somehow, 

by some miraculous force,

they keep walking.

It may not mean much to us,

but witnessing such complex trauma

does something to the heart,

the psyche.

To walk is profoundly courageous.

We know how hard it is to

hold out hope when

the innocent and nonviolent are met

by the empire's sword,

its brutal logic of terror and violence

unleashed upon those who simply

want to live, be free, and

build a life for themselves

and their children.

As I think about them and us,

for we are all the same,

it's clear we need to re-imagine

the language of faith.

On the road to Emmaus, 

Jesus appeared.

Showing up in a shadow

of a memory.

He let them feel.

They were honest.

"We 'had' hope," they say.

He gives them a reason

to resurrect that hope.

It is then that they finally see

that they've been speaking to God.

It is then that their weary hearts

burn with joy.

And then Jesus leaves.

After all of that, he leaves.

And they go back, 

at once to Jerusalem,

never the same.

They now understood

that they need to lose hope

in order to gain it. 

The hope was not in a theory

or in a specific kind of event,

but in a person,

in the living, 

in the struggle.

We have known that,

and have given up faith in the belief

that things will eventually get better,

a sort of triumphal note

that takes one's mind away from

such inhumane violence.

Martin Luther King, Jr., lost faith.

Fannie Lou Hamer lost faith.

John Coltrane lost faith. ... 

But their faith was not a destination;

it was a discipline. ...

I have moved beyond the often

triumphal idea of faith as

future-only, as progression

that doesn't upend power and 

optimism that does not honestly

read history and our present moment,

and when I did, 

faith became life giving and

miraculously normal.

Faith is as normal and as powerful

as choosing to keep on living in

the face of white supremacist brutality,

economic instability,

political polarization,

religious nationalism, and

the ongoing struggle

of the distance between 

faith, Jesus, and 

our lives in the present.

It is as normal as

being honest with the world

as it is.

It is as normal as

imagining the world

as it can become.

It is as normal as the disciples

on the road, losing so much,

but having the courage

to begin again,

having the courage to return

to the places of terror and violence,

with the good news that the world

as it is is not the way that

it always will be ... 

We are holding on to Jesus

while also living with our

fear, trauma, doubts, and hope.

Our story and the story of Jesus

are bound together in

faith, hope, love, and community.

As a preacher and writer,

my role is to chronicle the struggle,

to give voice to liberation and faith,

to make pain and anger known,

to keep hope alive, and

to join our people in 

our long walk to freedom —

to our vision of a better world.

Faith 

— honest, deep, vulnerable faith, 

as Baldwin writes —

is about growing up, 

becoming more loving, 

more honest,

and more vulnerable.

It is facing ourselves and

what we desire.

It is finding a way to 

begin each day.

It is not that we have 

the right answer, or all 

the right solutions.

It is that we have found

deep meaning in

the story of Jesus.

Faith Is Finding Home Again

+ Danté Stewart,

"Fire" 

&

"Back Roads,"

pgs. 3-4, 121-124

Shoutin' in the Fire

Bonus Quote: 

By dying as He did,
Christ shows that He loves us
in such a way that
He can descend into our private hells.

His love is so empathetic and compassionate
that it can penetrate all barriers
that we construct out of hurt and fear,
in order to enter right into
our despair and hopelessness.

We see this idea expressed
powerfully in John 20.
Twice John presents the disciples
as huddled behind closed doors,
locked in because of fear.
Twice John has Jesus come through
the locked doors and stand
in the midst of that frightened
 and depressed group and
breathe peace into them.

That image — 
Christ going through locked doors 
— is perhaps the most consoling image
within our entire faith.

Put simply, it means God can help us
even when we cannot help ourselves.
God can empower us
even when we are too weak
and despairing to even, minimally,
open the door to let Him in.

There is no hell 
— no private hell of wound, depression,
fear, sickness, or even bitterness — 
that God's love cannot and will not
descend into.
Once there, (God's love)
will breathe out
the peace of the Holy Spirit.

+ Fr. Ronald Rolheiser,
Prayer: Our Deepest Longing

Bonus Song:

Shalom

Urban Doxology, 2018 A.D.

"Let there be light."

No cameras, but action,

Handcrafted by the Heavenly Master.

Peace and all created by the Great Artist,

Whole world is His canvas.

Harmony between everything alive,

Everything's good 'cause everything's God's.

So excited to make man in His likeness,

I think He likes this, so He said

"Adam rule the garden of Eden

You ain't gotta work hard 'til the evening.

When you wake up, I'ma bring you, Eve.

I provide the oneness you needin.'"

Creation on purpose with God,

All life was perfect
Mankind knew their
Purpose was worship 

'Til they ran into the serpent

And all hope in it was lost ... 

Imagine peace,

Creation breathed in unity.

Free, His presence is

Community,

But now we've lost it all.

Let us hold steadfast

To hope we profess.

He who promised

Is faithful ... 

Jehovah, shalom,

Shalom, shalom,

Shalom,

Please, bring shalom

Shalom, shalom,

Shalom.

Jehovah, shalom,

We need You now,

Join our humanity

In perfect peace on earth.

So desperately

With feeble knees,
We rise to meet You God

The people blind, 

How can we find

A hope for humankind?

(Repeat Bridge + Chorus)

The shalom we once known, 

It's all gone.

Got to get us a clone

'Cause the shame of the curse

Too much for my soul.

Don't wanna feel home alone,

But we prone to divorce, of course,

Cold cases to court cases

'Cause of the shooting on the court.

Disease, addiction to get your fix in,

Abuse of everything intended for

Good by the Source.

How we supposed to have hope?

Everything is broken now.

Lovin' someone 'til it hurts?

Nah, I'm a tone it down.

In this world full of depravity,

Man's history full of tragedy

And fatal catastrophe,

A desecration of the masterpiece.

Will God hear our prayers 

Over the blasphemy?

"Yeah, I do and boy I listen

I'm trying to give you a vision

'Cause I'm the piece 

That you're missing

From the puzzle made 

In the image of Christ

Who's at the center

And reconciles Me to sinners.

So I'm sending you 

To finish the work

So I can replenish the nations.

So they can imagine a world

Lived by My patterns,

A reversal of the curse,

So the last shall be first.

Life through the second Adam;

Imagine a complete society

Full of prosperity and propriety

Of shades all as one across the nation

Engaging neighbors
With the faith and justice

For the sake of My name

'Cause only My name can bring
Shalom!

(Chorus)

Bonus Post:

" ... When the world looks at us, 

may they see not another 

community of anger and division, but 

a family united by the Cross, 

a family of love, 

a family that shows the world 

another way is possible 

when Christ is at the center. ... "

+ Fr. Luke Veronis

 UB: The Antidote

With anticipation and joy,

Rev. Mike "Sully" Sullivan

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