One of the things pastors sometimes do at ecumenical gatherings is decide what denomination Jesus and his disciples were. Oddly enough, pastors usually argue for their own denomination. Today's story makes me think that the two travelers on the road to Emmaus were Presbyterian. Of course they were! As they listened to Jesus expounding scripture, their hearts were burning within them. Good teaching and scripture were what moved them to faith. They had to be Presbyterian! Although, our Roman Catholic friends would argue that since the two didn't recognize Jesus until he blessed the bread and broke it, they had to be Catholic. And so it goes.

While it is amusing to ponder denominational quirks, the Road to Emmaus story is pointing out the power of both Word and Sacrament in the revelation of Jesus. I probably don't need to remind you that, as Reformed Christians, we don't like to separate the sacraments (communion and baptism) from the preached Word. We'd feel something was missing if we gathered on Sunday, handed out bread and grape juice, and then left. But that's not the issue today. Since we are still in Eastertide, let's wonder how our text helps us to unpack the implications of the resurrection.

As Cleopas and his traveling companion trudged to Emmaus lost in grief, the nosy Stranger shows them that what they are grieving isn't their private story. Despite how personal their disappointment, when Jesus tells their story back to them, he shows it to them through the lens of their own Jewish faith tradition. They are joined to 2,000 years of religious history and community. That is when their hearts burn.

Jesus leaves right after dinner. He's not the sort of Presence you can keep pinned down, but this disappearance confuses the two travelers less than the disappearance from the tomb. Their immediate response is to high tail it back to the other folks in Jerusalem. I want you to hang onto that. The disciples need each other to figure it out. The resurrection is just plain baffling unless they are helping each other think what to do about it. Even for us.

Remember Thomas? He was away from the community the first time Jesus came by, so he had a hard time believing. Cleopas and friend see Jesus, it knocks their socks off, and they beat it back to town to be with the rest of the disciples. What was your first reaction September 11? Mine was to get out here to church. I needed to be here in community with all of you. I knew I wouldn't be able to figure out what was happening to us until we had been together. We keep hearing this of the resurrection during Eastertide. The Incarnation of God is no longer physically present, so Jesus re-creates humanity to be the Church, to be reminders of him to each other.

When I was in seminary, I connected with a student at another seminary. Heidi gave me a tour of her campus one day, and I remember being shocked by something I saw there. They had a large worship space, and off to the side was a private chapel. On a table in the center of the room was a partially eaten loaf of bread and a jug of grape juice. Heidi told me that this was where people could come to "do communion." What shocked me was that this was something individuals did on their own as private devotion. As a dyed-in-the-wool Reformed Christian, I had never thought of communion as a personal practice. Like the cross, communion to me is both vertical and horizontal-union of God and human, union between humans. So when I tell you that the implication of the resurrection for Cleopas and his companion was ccommunity, you will understand when I tell you that the other "unnamed" companion could stand for us. For most of us sitting here this morning, the resurrection community of implication is Springwater. We need each other, friends. The practical implication of the resurrection in our day-to-day lives is that we can't just nourish our own spiritual body. We must nourish the Body of the Church to be nourished through it. This is Christ's body. Not just on this table, but in these pews. That means-and this is where I get very specific-we can't just worship alone, we can't just pray alone, we can't just study alone. Not if we want to grow. Not if we want to know what it means to us that Jesus rose from the dead. Not if we want to experience the presence of Jesus in the here and now.

Sundays are good. We need each other for worship Sunday morning. But you have also made public vows to nurture each other's faith. We have agreed to be a Body together. "When did I do that?" you ask. Presbyterians do not have godparents. Every time we baptize someone, we all promise to be "godparent." When someone joins the church, we all raise our hands and say in strong, firm voices, with smiles on our faces, that we promise to guide and nurture that person by word and deed, with love and prayer. How many of you have ever been ordained as a deacon or elder? Do you remember promising to "serve the people with energy, intelligence, imagination and love"? Do you remember promising to "further the peace, unity, and purity of the church"? You did. You cannot keep those promises alone. And I'm not speaking merely of the grace of God. More often than not, the grace of God wears the hands and feet of people who sit in the pew or study or work or live with you. You cannot keep in the privacy of your own room the promises you have made publicly. Sure, you need to do some of that in individual devotion. But you cannot keep your for-life ordination vows, you cannot keep your baptismal vows and the promises you make every time someone joins this church-you cannot do any of this if you do not practice your faith in community.

These are hard words. I am probably speaking with greater directness than you have ever heard me speak. But I lead a meeting last week that discussed the Long Range Site Plan for this church, a plan submitted to session, received and adopted. Now I am going to tell you something even more serious. I take the words of Luke in today's text and last week's text from John as authority. If you want this church to continue to exist, if you want this church to be the church that Christ has called us to be, life in this church cannot be "an amusing thing" that happens to you for a couple of hours on Sunday morning. You faith cannot be your "hobby," something you do only when you feel like it This church cannot be to you just some "jobs" that you do to keep in good standing in the community. This church must become the living embodiment of Christ's presence in the world to you, for us. This church must be the place that you come to for solace as well as the place out of which you serve. You must nurture this body as a whole as intentionally and with as much commitment as you have to feed your family and prune your trees and exercise your animals. If your family, trees, or animals need you to be committed to their care, how much more so does this church! Without God's intervention, this church will not survive another 20 years. You are God's intervention today. You have been called and chosen by God for this time and place. Like Cleopas and his companion, you have got to be in the community to find out what the presence of the Resurrected One means in your life. Christ is risen!