God's Other Name is Surprise

A sermon by Dr. David Burhans
Interim preacher, First Baptist Church, Richmond, Virginia
Sunday, April 6, 2008

Luke 24:28-35

          French novelist, poet, and Nobel Prize winner, Andre Gide, wrote in his autobiography that when he was small, one day during his arithmetic lesson, he happened to look on the windowsill and was amazed at what was occurring there.  At that very moment a caterpillar was turning into a butterfly, and he watched with awe as those magnificently colored wings began to emerge from the casing of the chrysalis.  He could not contain his exuberance and interrupted the teacher by shouting:  “Look!  Look!  A miracle!”  But to his dismay, the teacher sniffed dryly, walked to the window and said, “What are you so excited about?  Didn’t you know that every butterfly was once a caterpillar?  What’s so special about that?”  Gide was crushed, and, on that day, he says, something happened to him - - a capacity for wonder was doused.  And it took him a long time to recover, to value again a spontaneous reaction to something special. 

The unkind, dismissive remark of the teacher is clearly sad and inappropriate, but there is a wonderful lesson to be learned:  it is incredible, a little frightening perhaps, how routine life can become, how domesticated we can become to miracle, how easily we can miss the glory, the beauty of the commonplace. And more serious still, how easily we can miss a glimpse of God’s presence in the everyday.

          This story of transformation from caterpillar to butterfly is a magnificent metaphor for springtime, new life, Resurrection, and a metaphor for two startled men 2000 years ago on the road to Emmaus. It is a story told only by Luke (Luke 24: 13-35).

Cleopas and his companion must have been rehashing the events of the past few days when suddenly the Risen Christ, unrecognized by the disciples, joins them on the walk and asks, “what have you men been talking about?”  Luke says, “they stood still, looking sad” (V. 17) which suggests they were hesitant to speak at first perhaps because of their broken hearts and depressed spirits.  As the three continued walking, however, the disciples began talking about this Jesus whom many thought or had hoped was the long-awaited Messiah.  It wasn’t long before Jesus, out of his broad knowledge and study of the Hebrew Scriptures, began to interpret for these men the meaning of all that had transpired.

 In the process of listening to Jesus and beginning to see the connections between Moses, the prophets’ teachings and the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, something amazing began happening to them. Gradual insight, growing understanding, quickening heartbeats welled up within them, and it wasn’t  long before Cleopas and his companion began to realize an inner spiritual experience of breath-taking proportions was lifting them from sad, depressed, confused Jesus-followers into re-energized disciples, stunned and surprised beyond belief that they were in the company of the Risen Christ.  They knew for sure this was their Lord and Master when “he took the bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them.” Reflecting on this whole episode, these transformed disciples were recorded to have said, “Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the Scriptures to us?” (v. 32) Or, as Eugene Peterson paraphrased, “Didn’t we feel on fire as He conversed with us?” It is quite possible they discovered or were at least reminded of one profound truth that every one of us should  hold tightly: “We are not human beings on a temporary spiritual journey. We are spiritual beings on a temporary human journey” (Benjamin Franklin).

          What fascinates me about this story from Luke is how it serves as a microcosm of the way God can surprise us on this journey, can break into our routine with eye-opening, life-changing encounters if we are alert, if we pay attention. It prompts me to pray often, “Awaken me, O God, visit me with a Divine surprise!”

I. So this is the first point I want to reinforce this morning. God was a God of surprise for first century believers. Hear again the teachings of Jesus. Look again at his life and relationships.

“Blessed are the poor, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven.

          Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.

          Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called the

                   Children of God”(from Matt. 5).

“Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.”

When Jesus was betrayed, he responded by loving the betrayer, Judas.

When he was denied, he responded by loving the denier, Peter.

When he was forsaken, he responded by reaching our to the

          disciples who had deserted him.

When he met up with Zaccheus (the Jewish tax collector who

collaborated with the hated Romans) his response was startling.  Jesus could have won over the whole crowd by looking into that tree, “come down from there you sawed-off little sinner. Grovel in the dust and repent.”  Instead Jesus said, “Come down, Zaccheus, I want to stay at your house tonight.” Jesus’ compassionate relationship with Zaccheus transformed the tax collector and his entire family. 

To the soldiers who drove the nails, he spoke forgiveness.  To the frightened thief beside him, he spoke a word of hope and forgiveness. Jesus established a new aristocracy in society when he said, “he that is greatest among you shall be your servant.” Jesus’ radical compassion turned conventional wisdom upside down in first century Palestine. Strangely, after 2000 years, it still does. The radical Jesus calls us to a radical love—a love that makes us different, a love that breaks down barriers crosses lines that divide us.

          II. And this is my second point. God is a God of surprise not only for the first century but also the 21^st. What God has been doing in 1^st Century Palestine and throughout the centuries, God is doing in 21^st Century Richmond, transforming caterpillars into butterflies, visiting his children with a divine surprise.

          In a drama, The Trial of Pilate, John Masefield depicts a Roman soldier who witnessed the crucifixion in conversation with Pilate’s wife.  The woman asks, “What do you think of Him?”

The soldier: “Lady, when a man believes a thing strong enough to die for it, he’s going to get a lot of other people to believe it too.”

Woman:  “Do you think he is dead?”  Soldier: “No, lady, I don’t!”

Woman:  “Where do you think he is?”  Soldier:  “Let loose in the

world where no one can stop him.”

          The Risen Christ is loose in the world surprising us with life-changing encounters!

          But we can go further still.  The Risen Christ is loose in the world surprising us with subtle signs and gestures of his loving, merciful presence.  These signs and promptings are high holy moments in our lives that flash across the screen of our minds or touch our hearts, pique our interest.  It may be tears filling our eyes, an unexpected healing, a moment of awe and silence, a startling moment of “Wow!” a sudden insight or revelation, an overwhelming sense of gratitude. These sacred touches may come to us as personal nudgings, some kind of inner prompting or inner vibration of the soul. These experiences are signs I have come to call  “whisperings of the Holy Spirit,” an experience not unlike what the disciples were experiencing on the way to Emmaus, “Didn’t we feel on fire as He conversed with us?” they said.

Whether it is silence, song, sight or instinct, these surprises, these intense moments of awareness may be God’s way of saying “pay attention.”  Someone’s name comes to mind, there is an impulse to reach out, to make a phone call, write a note, offer a word of hope, some act of kindness  - - all are whisperings of the Holy Spirit.  The greatest concern, however, is that to ignore these impulses, to fail to act upon them may result in a gradual closing of one’s heart to God.  The less we pay attention and the less we act on these instincts to reach out, there may come a time when we don’t feel them at all.

Bill Moyers’ documentary film on the hymn  Amazing Grace, includes a scene filmed in Wembley Stadium in London. Various musical groups, mostly rock bands, had gathered in celebration of the changes in South Africa, and for some reason the promoters scheduled an opera singer, Jessye Norman as the closing act,

The film cuts back and forth between scenes of the unruly crowd in the stadium and Jessye Norman being interviewed.  For twelve hours groups like Guns’ n’ Roses have blasted the crowd through banks of speakers, riling up fans already high on booze and dope.  The crowd yells for more curtain calls, and the rock groups oblige.  Meanwhile, Jessye Norman sits in her dressing room discussing “Amazing Grace” with Moyers.

          Finally, the time comes for her to sing.  A single circle of light follows Norman, a majestic woman wearing a flowing African dashiki, as she strolls onstage.  No backup band, no musical instruments, just Jessye.  The crowd stirs, restless.  Few recognize the opera diva.  A voice yells for more Guns’n’Roses.  Others take up the cry.  The scene is getting ugly.

          Alone, a capella, Jessye Norman begins to sing, very slowly:

          “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound

                   That saved a wretch like me!”

          A remarkable thing happens in Wembley Stadium that night.  Seventy thousand raucous fans fall silent before her aria of grace.  By the time Norman reaches the second verse, “Twas grace that taught my heart to fear, and grace my fears relieved. . . ,” the soprano has the crowd in her hands.  By the time she reaches the third verse, “Tis grace has brought me safe this far, and grace will lead me home,” several thousand fans are singing along, digging far back in nearly lost memories for words they heard long ago.

          “When we’ve been there ten thousand years

                   Bright shining as the sun,

          We’ve no less days to sing God’s praise

                   Than when we first begun.”

The world thirsts for grace. When grace descends, the world falls silent before it. God’s Other Name is Surprise!