The Start of Emmaus

Emmaus became our biweekly summer gathering on Wednesday nights, filled with friends new and old, sometimes a surplus of food and others not so much. However, there was always an abundance of life dancing around the table, filled with testimonies of the Lord’s goodness, with new revelations on the passage of Emmaus and sweet heavenly fellowship. Before we talk about memorable dinner highlights, let’s remember how it all was started.

We were attending a church in Charlotte that had a hefty portion of outreach to the marginalized. Its heartbeat was service and each day faithful volunteers from all different churches poured their hearts and energy out to meet the needs of those around them primarily through feeding – both physical and spiritual. This part of the church was unique, it was the most practically missional church we had attended thus far in the States. We came from a church that was over saturated in an unhealthy pursuit of community that it trumped the truth of the Word, it made way for complacency with sin or rather a scary environment that even celebrated it. Now, what was not unique to this church was the amount of congregational turnover, the never-ending cycle of people coming for a bit and then bouncing, getting plugged in and then so easily walking away. It happens at every church – its congregants can claim whatever reason they want be it– “burnout” “the Lord is moving us onward aka we just don’t like it here anymore” “there’s not enough community” “I’m not getting fed” “so-and-so offended me” whether legitimate or an excuse it struck me that it was so easy for people to fall away – more than it was easy for them to leave, it was easy for everyone else to forget they were ever there. Both parties in my eyes were at a sad fault.

One Sunday in worship I was thinking on it more, how is it so easy, having attended countless churches in Charlotte, to come, “get plugged in” and then move on. Then it struck me. It would be so much harder to leave something you had been woven into. The Lord gave me this image, that a crocheted blanket is strong, it is hard to pull out a middle strand because it is connected to all the others making it stronger and more able to withstand coming and going, it doesn’t do either, it stays and to leave would be messy, it would leave a hole and a gap that couldn’t be denied. So, I thought “Lord, okay! We just need to knit people in! How do we do it?”

My heart is old fashioned, I yearn for things of past days, heartfelt traditions, things that you read about in books and one example is church pot-lucks. Nothing makes my heart sing like a good old fashioned pot-luck. What was so wonderful about this church was its heart to serve but what I so clearly saw in that moment during service was its missing of dinners. It was as if day after day strangers served along-side each other, barely knowing one another’s name or a single detail about their personal life. It struck me then that it’s not either or. It was both, we needed something that merged healthy fellowship while still doing practical missional outreaches. I excitedly shared this with Eli and we just mulled it over for a bit, being a little newer we didn’t want to bring a new idea to a group we had barely even meshed with yet.

The following week one of the staff members was talking to me about the very idea of how it was so easy for people to come and go and it was negatively affecting some other congregants. Here was my opportunity, it was clear to me the Lord was speaking! I shared what I dreamed up in church the other Sunday and he seemed both relieved and excited. A solution to a need he didn’t know yet. You could sense his dread of ordering pizzas and gathering strangers, it was a sweet moment to see the Lord use the gifts in some to meet the needs of others.

So we set to planning, it would be at our home, open to all volunteers from Sunday – Saturday and all members of the congregation – we wanted a diverse table that freely welcome everyone, both the spiritually and financially poor, those forgotten, those who felt left out and those who felt they had it all. We wanted a table where they could all sit, commune, encourage and testify to the Lord’s work in their lives. It was exhilarating to dream about – who would come? What would we eat? Will we play games? Should we square dance? My mind went everywhere it could. Other than feeding them I wasn’t sold on any specific idea.

One day during the dreaming process I was reading in the book of Luke, in chapter 24, and I came across the story of ‘The Road to Emmaus’ – in it Jesus has since died and resurrected but not many knew it in fact they were discouraged doubting what they heard would happen was actually going to happen. How often do we follow the same pattern – quick to doubt that what HE said He maybe didn’t actually say because our present circumstances tempt us to think otherwise. Well two men set out walking. Jesus, who they do not recognize, joins them and asks what they are discussing. They are flabbergasted saying, “are you the only person in town who hasn’t heard? That greatest prophet was to resurrect but hasn’t?” The three walk together about 7 miles and Jesus reveals all the things in the scripture to them along the way. They finally get where they are going and they invite Him to have a light meal. He sits down and when He breaks the bread the two’s eyes are open and they see that it is Jesus. Just like that he leaves them and they’re left with eyes dancing and hearts singing, so much so that they make the trek ALL THE WAY back to town, to their down-trotted friends to proclaim “He’s alive! He was made known to us in the breaking of the bread” – at this moment I was stunned. I was convicted how little my faith that I don’t expect Jesus himself to show up each time I take communion at church, I go through the motions but I don’t have an expectation that He will make himself known in the literal breaking of the bread. Could I come to a place of having a heart that is full of the expectation for Him to meet me where I am?

I shared it with Eli and as I shared out loud it was as if something struck a chord in our hearts and we knew immediately that this was the story we would read each time we gathered for our biweekly dinners with these hopefully soon to be friends. It would be a reminder each time that we gather that He promises to show up, to make Himself known in the breaking of bread and we need to be mindful and moreover full of the expectation that He will do exactly as He said He would. We didn’t have another plan other than dinner and reading ‘The Road to Emmaus’. We knew we would gather, set a beautiful table that would honor those who showed up, we would read the passage, share our hearts, we would pray, take communion all together and then feast and fellowship. Each week took on different flares, it naturally morphed into a pot-luck (who would have thought??), new and old people showed up, some stayed late and others left early but we didn’t deter from the heart behind it all. The passage was shared by so many, each week someone new would talk about what they learned from it and then pray for all of us around the table. It was not easy to week in and out get together but the life, the groundwork and the relationships that formed were surely to be cherished. Eventually, the dinners lovingly were called Emmaus and we always left feeling lighter than we came, seeing more of Him in the eyes of each person who attended. It was a beautiful season of connection, un-charted waters, delicious food and a tangible display of the hospitality of Heaven. Just a glimpse of the Kingdom, all in a backyard, on a cracked and faded concrete patio with mismatched chairs and cracking tables and the warmest of atmospheres that could break through the coldest of hearts.

“…and He was made known to them in the breaking of the bread” Luke 24:35