28 As they came near the village to which they were going, he walked ahead as if he were going on. 29 But they urged him strongly, saying, “Stay with us, because it is almost evening and the day is now nearly over.” So he went in to stay with them. 30 When he was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. 31 Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him; and he vanished from their sight. 32 They said to each other, “Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?” 33 That same hour they got up and returned to Jerusalem; and they found the eleven and their companions gathered together. 34 They were saying, “The Lord has risen indeed, and he has appeared to Simon!” 35 Then they told what had happened on the road, and how he had been made known to them in the breaking of the bread. [Luke 24:28-35, NRSV]
Titian. The Supper at Emmaus. c.1535.
Religion is a chain of memory, a form of collective memory and imagination based on the sanctity of tradition. The Judeo-Christian tradition knows intimately the importance memory plays in keeping their faith alive. The covenantal theology espoused in the Book of Deuteronomy requires that Israel remember its history both in fulfillment of divine commandment and as a bulwark against apostasy. The Exodus is reenacted in every Passover meal to make sure memory of the greatest events in Judaism is preserved. For the Christians, Jesus’ command at the Last Supper to “do this in memory of me” is fundamental to the practice and the continuation of the faith. So Saint Paul insists on the importance of handing on the tradition, of passing on the baton of faith: “For I delivered to you as of first importance what I also received…” (1 Cor 15:3). And, of course, it is in remembering how good life was in the father’s house that prompted the prodigal son to finally decide to head home (Luke 15:17-18). Memory is key to understanding the Emmaus story as well.
- Memory of Scriptural Promises
The root of the two Emmaus disciples being downcast over the death of Jesus was their idea of redemption, which was more politically than spiritually oriented. Jesus’ interpretation of the Scriptures for them included a Messiah who would have to suffer and die. Those who subscribed to a narrative, as those two disciples did, in which the Messiah would be a national hero who drove the Romans out of Palestine, would have a difficult time finding this Jesus in the Scriptures. But as Jesus broke open the Scriptures to them, beginning with Moses and the prophets, they began to have a new, albeit tentative and troubled, sense of hope which caused their hearts to begin to burn within them even while they were still on the road. But it was at the breaking of the bread, where Jesus’ words were accompanied by the familiar gestures of taking, blessing, breaking and giving bread that a flood of memories ensued. There, at table fellowship, Christ’s breaking of bread turned an otherwise ordinary meal into a sacramental encounter.
The two disciples, their eyes now opened to recognise the Risen Jesus, are given a new vision of the future, and a renewed spirit in mission. Right here and henceforth, as Søren Kirkegaard once remarked, they would, as we all do, “live life forward by understanding it backward.” This power of recollection, or memory, takes on a special relevance for the saints of the New Testament who constantly looked backwards to the Cross to understand the identity and work of their Lord and, in turn, their own identity and mission in life. They looked backwards to the Cross to remind themselves of the mission and the tasks ahead and to be fortified against the inevitable challenges before them.
- Internalising through Memory
In The Book of Memory: A Study of Memory in Medieval Culture, Mary Carruthers explained what medieval scholars meant when they said they had read a book. To read a book was to absorb it, to make it one’s own. That entailed full focus in reading, a concentration that demands “eating”, digesting, absorbing. In common metaphor, we say to “eat it”. This eating imagery is common in the Old Testament. Take, for example, three better known events:
- 1And he said to me, “Son of man, eat what is before you, eat this scroll; then go and speak to the house of Israel.” 2 So I opened my mouth, and he gave me the scroll to eat. (Ezekiel 3:1-2)
- Your words were found, and I ate them, and your words became to me a joy and the delight of my heart, for I am called by your name, O Lord, God of hosts. (Jeremiah 15:16)
- 9 So I went to the angel and told him to give me the little scroll; and he said to me, “Take it and eat; it will be bitter to your stomach, but sweet as honey in your mouth.” 10 And I took the little scroll from the hand of the angel and ate it; it was sweet as honey in my mouth, but when I had eaten it my stomach was made bitter. (Rev 10:9-10)
What all these tell us is that to read a book or a text is to understand and internalize it through memory. Internalizing cannot be achieved without meditation. In a meditative reading, intense concentration is required. A distraction-free environment certainly helps. Meditation is neither mechanical nor rote-memorising. Often, meditation is charged with emotion. When emotion is evoked, meditative reading is changed into a deep personal experience and thus memorized. This resulting close intimacy with a religious text effectively draws us close to God.
We see this intimacy with God touching the two disciples in the Emmaus story as well. In chaos and despondency, they retrieved their place in the narrative of life by remembering the words of life Jesus had revealed in them. The afternoon heartburn on the road finally yielded over to the evening faith when they could finally recollect and take to heart the presence of Jesus in their lives. The breaking of bread opened their hearts, their minds and their eyes. The remembrance of Jesus’ words and actions has restored their sense of identity.
- Remembering a Genuine Life-Giving Narrative
In “Memory and Truth”, Presbyterian theologian Craig Dykstra wrote about the vital role of memory to human life and to faith: “Without a narrative that sustains us, the world – and we ourselves – are virtually phantom. But the issue is not just whether one has a narrative or not. The issue is whether we have one that is genuine, one that can sustain us in reality, one that, having been given and committed to memory, frees us from desperately having to make one up.”
Like people in modern life, acutely so in times of a pandemic like Covid-19, the two disciples in Emmaus were caught in an existence that felt as phantom as their faith. That was until the Risen Jesus reminded them who the Messiah was and what his resurrection meant. Before that happened, their identity was as elusive as their hope was shrouded in uncertainty. Then, Saint Luke says they remembered. There was no need for them to make up a different life story anymore. The memory of Jesus had set them free for a life of mission, a life in the Spirit, a life in communal living. This is real. This is genuine. The Lord is risen! They did not have to live alone, in phantom existence.
Copyright © Dr. Jeffrey & Angie Goh, October 2021. All rights reserved.
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