Christianity isn’t a religion we join- it’s a person we follow. ~Samuel Deuth
A friend was clearing out her mother’s house. In a box of memories she found her mother’s nursing school pictures from 1941. She posted them on Facebook, and they were correctly tagged through facial recognition.
Wouldn’t we all love to look the same seventy or eighty years later?
Sometimes I look in the mirror and wonder who that is looking back at me. On the inside, I’m in my early twenties, full of life and hope, excited for the future.
On the outside I’m graying, less toned, and more wrinkled. But I’m also not twenty.
Jesus had been gone for three days, and no one recognized him.
Granted he’d been whipped, beaten, and crucified. He wasn’t looking his best.
But, really? No one recognized him?
Mary Magdalene didn’t know Jesus until he called her by name.
The disciples in Emmaus only recognized him after he broke bread and gave thanks.
The apostles identified him when he came through a locked door.
These were people who spent most of their time with Jesus. They traveled with him, ate with him, prayed, sang, and baptized with him. They acted like him, healing and raising people from the dead. They were known as his followers.
But there came a time when they turned- out of fear, disillusionment, frustration. It doesn’t matter why they turned away, but that they turned back.
They took a second look. They believed the unbelievable. They recognized Jesus.
Are you in a dark place? Does Jesus seem like a farce? Has your faith waned and wandered away?
Don’t give up.
Listen for your name. Let him break the bread. Expect a miracle.