Walking and Talking Together

  

Two disciples were walking down a road to their home in Emmaus in this popular story (Luke 24.13-35). A longish walk as it was seven miles from Jerusalem where they had lingered for three days after the death of Jesus. As they journeyed a third person joined them and the three engaged in a deeply spiritual conversation. When they arrived home, they urged the stranger to stay the night with them as it was getting late. As bread was broken they realized it was the risen Christ who had joined them.

 

This story has been depicted many times in beautiful works of art. To name just a few of the more famous . . .

 

Duccio (1308)

Caravaggio (1601)

Rembrandt (1648)

Zund (1887)

De Maistre (1958)

 

Although visually different, one thing they all have in common is they were all painted through a patriarchal lens. Each work of art depicts the two disciples who were making the journey as two males. 

 

As always, I want to challenge the popular assumption and read the story against the grain rather than go with the norm. Therefore, I must question why it has been assumed, through the centuries, that these two disciples were men.

 

 Of course, the story tells us that one of them was a man. Not only a man but one who was even named, Cleopas. The other disciple was unnamed. It is often the women in scripture who remain unnamed and invisible. 

 

Sadly, this is not only found the Bible, but women in many spheres have also often remained unnamed. This week I was looking at the life and teaching of Confucius and saw exactly the same thing. Confucius’ father was named in first century book, The Book of the Historian, whilst his mother was unnamed — once again the woman was insignificant and invisible.

 

Returning to the Emmaus Rd, a little bit of study shows us that Cleopas had a wife, Mary (John 19:25).  It is important to note here that Clopas and Cleopas are variations of the same name. Clopas is the Greek form while Cleopas is the Aramaic form. In the same way Paul is the Latin transliteration of the Greek name Saul. The early church father, Eusebius, believed that Cleopas/Clopas was the brother of Joseph, the legal parent of Jesus.

 

So, we are told that Cleopas’ wife, Mary was in Jerusalem. She was named in the gospel of John as one of the women who remained at the foot of the cross. Therefore, it would seem plausible to assume that the couple of disciples walking towards their home in Emmaus were Cleopas and Mary, rather than two men. Otherwise Cleopas would have left his wife behind in Jerusalem! 

 

In my interpretation, it was a married couple who urged Jesus to spend the night at their home. This makes the most sense to me.  It all seems so obvious, yet for centuries the patriarchal mindset has completely overlooked the possibility of a woman. Women can’t really have been significant enough to have had a long walk with the resurrected Christ and offered an invitation to Christ to spend the night at their home. 

 

This story is well worth thinking about in the light of patriarchy. It can serve as a model of how we approach the scriptures. There is a need to recognize that the patriarchy of that time is reflected in the Bible. A patriarchy which has often been picked up whenever the scripture is read. Hence two disciples equal two men. If we approach the readings recognising the inherent patriarchy and looking beyond it there are lots of hidden gems showing the presence and participation of the women of the time.

 

Lindisfarne is an inclusive community. Being aware of patriarchy in our lives, workplace and ministry is a small part of that inclusivism. How we approach and read the scriptures is a key component. If it is to be relevant it is important that we acknowledge the place of women in our spiritual tradition. 

 

As Anne Thurston said, now many years ago,

 

“I have struggled with the attempt to integrate the insights from feminism with the Christian tradition. This struggle continues but with greater assurance that integration is not only possible but necessary for the transformation of the whole church. I believe, however inadequately it has been realised, that Jesus established a radically inclusive community . . . It is not simply a matter of including the voices of women but of creating inclusive community symbolised by an inclusive ministry. The centre is transformed as the context of women’s lives becomes part of the text of revelation.” (Anne Thurston, Because of her Testimony, p.4-5)

 

 Today I want to offer this alternate interpretation of the two disciples on the Emmaus Rd to challenge the status quo. Ultimately, after studying for themselves, some friends reading this may still prefer to accept the more common interpretation —that it was two men journeying and living together maybe a same-sex couple.  That is absolutely fine. 

 

The important thing is to let any text challenge the patriarchal mindset and to enrich beyond the accepted norm. That is the beauty of reading against the grain. 

 

Christ is Risen

Christ is risen

Christ is risen indeed

Happy Easter to everyone reading this.

 

How quickly the seasons change, once again it is time to ponder the Easter events which culminate in the story of resurrection with death being overcome. It is quite a weekend, a rollercoaster ride of being in the deepest despair to the heights of joy. 

 

Yesterday, this emotional ride was constantly at the back of my mind as I pondered what to say about it. Then I unexpectedly read a poem —it was in a novel I was reading — nothing about Easter or death or resurrection, yet it seemed to capture the very depths of suffering and reflect the despair the followers of Jesus would be feeling.

 

Does my twisting body spell out Grace?

I hurt, therefore I am.

Faith, Charity and Hope

are three dead angels

falling like meteors —

(Louise Penny)

 

I spent a while pondering these few lines. I found them quite profound. For those who followed Jesus, the crucifixion was more than just physical death, it was the end, the death of all they had hoped for and had faith in. Everything was shattered. Despair ruled!

 

But things changed (John 20:1-18) — Mary came to the tomb and saw the stone had been removed.(1) The body had been taken, could her sorrow be any deeper? Not even a body to tend and prepare, an important part of both custom and grief. Mary went and told two other disciples who returned with her to check the veracity of her words. They too saw the evidence of the missing body. Perhaps one of the saddest lines summing up their despair is they “returned to their homes”. It was pointless hanging around.

 

Yet, Mary did. Mary stayed by the empty tomb weeping. In the depths of her grief, she peeped into the tomb and saw a vision of two angels. I wonder if at that point a flicker of hope rose in her heart. A little ray of light penetrating the darkness. The angels spoke asking why she wept. Her response was that she did not know where the body of Jesus was. In the text, even at this point Mary’s hope was not of resurrection but of finding the body of the one she loved so she could care for it.  She needed to do that, her last gift to her friend.

 

But as soon as she had spoken, she became aware of a person behind her. I imagine that was all a bit frightening. She did not recognise the person as Jesus. 

 

I think there is something important to grasp here, the physical, the body was completely different, there was nothing recognisable. Everything was changed. The author of the gospel commented that Mary then supposed it was a gardener and asked if they had removed the body. Mary was still thinking about her duty of care, her last outpouring of love. 

 

A word changed everything; a name was spoken. It is a powerful thing to use someone’s name, it denotes relationship and care. It is connection between human beings. I can’t think of a better or more meaningful way uttering this greeting than that single word “Mary”. (15)

 

Immediately recognition followed —what joy, what elation! I can’t imagine what thoughts must have been going through Mary’s head at that moment as grief was replaced with a dawning hope and realization. It was not the end. It was a new beginning. Everything had changed, not just for that instant but for the future. Life had won.

 

And Mary’s response was to go and share the news with the others who loved Jesus so they could find renewed hope and joy. Mary, the apostle to the apostles running to bring the good news — Christ is risen.