heart aflame
Exactly one year ago, I went for a walk in the park near my house. On that March 12 in 2011, I noticed something that I had somehow missed in the previous four years of Overton Park strolls: this bench.
There are many benches in Overton Park. Some are made of splintered wood and rusted iron, others gritty concrete; all are weathered but seemingly here for the long haul. Yet, this is the only bench with a heart on fire emblazoned on it's back.
I had been reading Luke 24 a lot that week. It's a story in the Bible that takes place after Jesus has been killed and come back to life from the dead. The disciples and the women that followed Jesus have just realized that His tomb is empty, only strips of linen remain within. They remember His words, "The Son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men, be crucified and on the third day be raised again," yet remain astonished and confused. In verse 13 of that chapter, we find two of them on the road to Emmaus:
Now that same day two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem. They were talking with each other about everything that had happened. As they talked and discussed these things with each other, Jesus himself came up and walked along with them; but they were kept from recognizing him.
He asked them, "What are you discussing together as you walk along?" They stood still, their faces downcast. One of them, named Cleopas, asked him, "Are you only a visitor to Jerusalem and do not know the things that have happened there in these days?"
"What things?" he asked.
"About Jesus of Nazareth," they replied. "He was a prophet, powerful in
word and deed before God and all people. The chief priests and our rulers handed him over to be sentenced to death, and they crucified him; but we had hoped that he was the one who was going to redeem Israel. And what is more, it is the third day since all this took place. In addition, some of our women amazed us. They went to the tomb early this morning but didn't find his body. They came and told us that they had seen a vision of angels, who said he was alive. Then some of our companions went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said, but him they did not see."
He said to them, "How foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken! Did not the Christ have to suffer these things and then enter his glory?" And beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, he explained to them what was said in all the Scriptures concerning himself. As they approached the village to which they were going, Jesus acted as if he were going farther. But they urged him strongly, "Stay with us, for it is nearly evening; the day is almost over." So he went in to stay with them.
When he was at the table with them, he took bread, gave thanks, broke it and began to give it to them. Then their eyes were opened and they recognized him, and he disappeared from their sight. They asked each other, "Were not our hearts burning within us while he talked with us on the road and opened the Scripture to us?"
Were not our hearts burning within us? I love that phrase. And I loved my new bench with its blazing heart. So I asserted my only-child possessiveness and named it my "Road to Emmaus" bench. For the next six weeks, I would walk purposely over to park to think and pray and desperately ask for Jesus to make my heart aflame. No one was ever sitting there, it was always waiting for me. I learned more about the symbol of the Sacred Heart, the emblem spray-painted in black. The Sacred Heart represents the unmitigated love, compassion, and long-suffering of the heart of Christ towards humanity. It's blazing fire illustrates the transformative power of divine love. I needed to sit and be still, to have my eyes opened to what Divine Love was doing in the most painful year of my life.
And then, somewhere between April 20 (International Weed Day) and April 29 (Arbor Day), this happened:
In case you can't make out the writing on bottom, it says, "Plant a Tree. Smoke some weed." And I have no idea what those symbols to the left and right mean.
Yep. Desecrated.
I was disappointed to say the least, plotting late night vandalism with white spray paint in hand. But truthfully, over the next few months I avoided the eyesore. I didn't want to face it. In October, I went to the bench and sat down on the inscription. I was resigned to what happened. After all, ironically, it was happening to me. The Road to Emmaus had become dusty. And hot. And exhausting. My traveling companions were not who I thought they were. There was no where to to take a break. My heart was not on fire, it was broken. But Jesus keeps walking with me. Ever so slowly binding up my heart, He comforts and explains these things have to be. What has felt like the vandalism of my own heart over last year is really the transforming power of Divine Love. I looked up my journal entry from March 12, 2011. I pray it will be true of my heart today.
Thank you for how you reminded me of the Road to Emmaus when I saw the bench with the heart aflame. You reminded me that You are always near, wanting to walk beside me all along. And You do explain the Scriptures to me, although sometimes I don't see You until You are right here in the pain and suffering, breaking the bread and giving thanks. O Precious Jesus, I hear you say -- this is my body, broken for you. I know You died for this sin, too. You died for this idolization of a mere man, this discontent with the life I lead. So thank you. Thank you that this too is covered. Thank You that this too is forgiven and covered in grace blood. Abba, thank you for sending your Son. Spirit, thank you for setting my heart aflame. Repentance and the forgiveness of sins, this is why the Son of Man came to die. Please live alive in my heart. Please help me to stop and break bread here ... at this point of hope and despair, trust and bitterness. Here I give thanks for this part of the journey. Here I praise You for the dinner together, that You would even consider eating with me. Lord, I want to know You and see Your glory. It is not displayed in my striving. It is only displayed in my surrender.
I walked back to my bench today. It's still beautiful, even if it is a little more weathered. I suppose you could say it has more character.
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