Rev. George
Miller
August 30,
2020
Luke
24:13-16, 28-35
Revolutions.
We may not like them. They may make us uncomfortable. They can undo the very fabric of our lives.
Like it or not, revolutions
happen.
In fact, we’re going through
one right now. The signs are all around
us.
Change is happening. How this change will be remembered, only time
can tell.
Part of the current
revolution is the way history is being revisited.
Some say history is being
erased, but that is not the case. The history
that’s been taught has often been told from the dominant view.
There are large swaths of that
which has gone silenced, unreported, yet known by those who were there, and passed
their stories on.
Now the internet and the inclusion
of diversity has made way for those missing pieces of historic tales to find
their way back into the narrative quilt of our country.
We’re beginning to remember
those things we didn’t know we forgot.
Revolutions become even more
revolutionary when we rediscover the missing voices.
For example, the Gay Rights
Movement is often pictured with white men.
Truthfully, it was begun when a black trans woman named Martha P.
Johnson was at Stonewall and said “no” to injustice.
The Women’s Rights Movement
may make us think of Gloria Steinem but we often miss the lesbian presence of
trailblazers like Del Martin.
The Civil Rights Movement lifts
up MLK, but ignored his right-hand man, Bayard Rustin, because he was gay.
Then we have the Women’s Suffragette
Movement. The women who fought for justice
while being told they had to be mindful of their men’s sensitivities.
They were dismissed as a “petticoat
government,” compared to sirens, ignored like the Canaanite woman.
Not to be dismissed, the
women boldly marched, showing off their petticoats. Instead of being silenced, they loudly raised
their voices even more.
Refusing to be ignored, one
mom told her son how to vote. “A mother’s
advice is always safest for her boy to follow,” said the son, “and my mother
wanted me to vote for ratification.”
Unfortunately, the presence of
black women in the suffragette movement was left out in the storytelling. Women like Frances Harper and Juno Pierce.
Revolutions are
revolutionary when we reclaim the missing voices.
Thanks to the inclusion of voices
that are female, black, brown, gay, trans, interfaith, differently abled, indigenous,
we’re hearing history from the many, instead of just one.
Filling in the gaps we didn’t
even know were there, making sure we’re seeing the full quilt stitched with the
names of Marsha P. Johnson, Ivy Bottini, Bayard Rustin, and Ida B. Wells.
Revolutions are
revolutionary when we resurrect the missing voices. Christianity
is no different.
With its believers calling
one another Sister and Brother, seeing themselves as Citizens of Heaven, followers
of Christ were revolutionary. So
revolutionary they were lied about, chased out of town, called threatening.
You know you’re doing something
right when the powers-that-be try to silence your presence.
But, as with every revolution,
to gain traction, there were the stories and figures that were hidden. Women almost became invisible.
There’s Thecla, a missionary
force of the early church who was right up there with Paul, sharing the Gospel
and overcoming the tyranny of her day.
The editors of the Bible left
her out, making her only known to those who do the research or say to their
Pastor “Why aren’t we learning about her.”
Mary Magdalene who was right
there at the empty tomb. At one point folk
followed her as the head of the church, until Peter’s side prevailed, silenced
her presence, and shamed her with a made-up back-story.
Then, we have today’s story. It’s Easter evening. 2 folks are somberly walking
into the sunset.
A stranger appears, asking
why so glum. They tell of Jesus’ death and the news that his tomb is now
empty.
The stranger talks with the
two about scripture and prophecy. When
they arrive at their home, they invite him in for supper. As he takes the bread, breaks it, they
realize it’s Jesus, and the news about his resurrection is true.
Filled with joy they run
back to Jerusalem and share their testimony.
Well, what does this have to
do with women and Women’s Equality? There
are 3 things to discuss.
1st- when the
women at the tomb had told their story, it was dismissed as an idle tale, so they
were not believed.
2nd- back then a
woman’s testimony was not welcome in a court of law nor seen as valid. Testimony only mattered if it came from a
man.
3rd- when Luke
was written, it was common practice to not refer to the name of a spouse. When a story about two people appeared, and
only one male name is given, it was assumed the other person was his wife.
Read Luke 24, you’ll see
that there are two people walking on the road to Emmaus. One is named Cleopas; it appears they live in
the same home.
Once the man’s name is
mentioned, we never hear it again. Everything
these travelers do is referred to as “they”, “we”, “us”, and “our.”
Meaning that although we can’t
be 100% sure, it is safe to ascertain that according to the literally custom of
the day, this story of the Resurrected Christ happens to both a man and a
woman.
They speak as one, are perceived
as equals, and share in their testimony.
Think of how radical this is;
what happens if we take this bit of material and put it into the quilt of our
faith.
Women didn’t just find the
tomb empty, there’s a probability that a woman was among the first to experience
and testify to the news of Christ’s resurrection, at a time when female voices
were not to be believed.
Who knows- perhaps it really
was SHE who did all the talking; Cleopas was only there to ensure she was believed,
making him the prop of the story!
Is it possible this scripture
has been viewed wrong for all these years and just now we’re finally hearing
the truth because we have welcomed in all the other voices that were once
ignored?
You may be thinking “What
does any of this matter if we’ll never know for sure because she’s not given a name?”
Maybe there’s another approach.
What if Luke intentionally didn’t
tell us the name of Cleopas’ companion, because YOU are that companion.
What if in a meta-physical way,
Luke is telling us that WE are ALL on the Road to Emmaus and therefore WE are
ALL witnesses to the resurrection?
Aren’t we all travelers of
some sort?
Don’t we all know what it is
like to walk in darkness? Don’t we all
know what it’s like to be scared and unsure?
Don’t we all know how hard
it is to believe something good right after something devastating has transpired?
Maybe YOU are Cleopas’
companion.
Maybe Luke is telling us
that YOU are there to witness the Resurrected Christ. That whenever you reflect, whenever you
remember, YOU are part of the revolution.
When you welcome the
stranger. When you feed someone. When you break bread.
YOU are welcoming the resurrected
Christ even if you don’t realize it, even if our eyes don’t see.
By not telling us the name
of the 2nd person, we can become that person.
Which means that on the road
to Emmaus, Millie, you are there. Evelyn,
you are there. Fae, you are there.
Nancy, you are there. Diane,
you are there. Ruthie, you are there. Marg,
you are there. Kathryn, up in Ohio, you
are there. Carnide, you are there.
Every woman, every man, every
child, every adult is there, each with their own testimony to share.
Though we may feel sad, surrounded
by darkness, when we remember, when we welcome, when we share, we are there,
and so is Christ.
THAT is so revolutionary and
beautiful to believe.
We began our month exploring
how women have had to reclaim their inheritance, been mistreated, abused,
called names, ignored.
But now we end by placing
all women, upon that road to Emmaus, beside the risen Christ, equals and
partners, witnesses, and way-makers.
And our world is the better because
of it.
In Christ, the Resurrection
Revolution continues.
Amen.
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