CHECK YOUR FUEL GAUGE

Between Philadelphia and the Jersey shore a common, familiar route is the Atlantic City Expressway.  By my standard it’s just not that far; nonetheless, along the express toll way there’s a service area, and as you approach there’s this sign: “check your fuel gauge.”  No doubt it’s a good practice.  No doubt many a driver has been “caught out” along the way to the shore not remembering to “check the fuel gauge” until after passing the service area.  But the fact is, it’s just not that far from the service area to the next exit (less than 7 miles)—and it’s only a few more miles to Atlantic City!  Though I’m sure it happens a lot, I just don’t get the urgency.  It’s not like rural Nebraska where there were signs and reminders like this: “next exit, 81 miles.” 

The gospel this week takes us from Jerusalem to Emmaus (about 7 miles) and from Emmaus to Jerusalem (about 7 miles).  Two of Jesus’ followers were traveling to Emmaus (it seems like they were going home from the festivities in Jerusalem) and they end up making the journey with Jesus himself (though their eyes were prevented from seeing that it was Jesus).  The story seems to blossom when Jesus is invited to stay with the followers, and the jig is up when Jesus breaks bread for the supper and they recognize him immediately.  Mysteriously, Jesus then vanishes and his followers head back to Jerusalem to make a full report of their experience. 

This week I’ve been reminded of just how far 7 miles can be and what it might mean as news reports have again circulated regarding the horrific damage sustained in southern states, including Arkansas.  I lived in Arkansas growing up and later served a congregation in Hardy.  I know the names and places of lots of towns—even the small ones that don’t make the news unless something awful happens—like Mayflower and Vilonia.  Fercliff Camp and Conference Center, where I attended many a church and camp function, reported damage from the storms was less than 7 miles to the west in the Brushy Mountain area.  Ferncliff itself was unscathed. 

Better check your fuel gauge—believe it or not, 7 miles makes all the difference.  I can’t explain it.  I still remember the sinking feeling in my stomach driving along the highway in Nebraska witnessing perfectly undamaged and healthy corn on the left side and totally ravaged, hail-destroyed stripped stalks on the right side. 

For Jesus’ followers, their mission objective changed quickly.  They made a sobering trip home only to turn around and make an excited return trip to Jerusalem back-to-back—with barley any time to eat!  For the last couple of days it’s felt like that as storms have made their way across the country leaving a path of death and destruction and lives that won’t ever be the same.  And 7 miles can make all the difference! 

This week, “check your fuel gauge” seems to mean something a bit different to me.  If we’re in a position where we have plenty of fuel, we would do well to share with those who have been caught out.  As one of my friends reminded me a couple of tornado stories ago, “people need your prayers, but even more, that extra $20 you’ve been saving for something special.”  And while the call to “check your fuel gauge” is a call to help those who have been harmed or damaged by the weather, it should also be a reminder to consider those who struggle every day though no thunderstorm has supplanted them.  “Check your fuel gauge”—not with regard to what you might need; but with regard to what you already have to share. 

If you have fuel to help, Presbyterian Disaster Assistance responds immediately to afflicted people in the United States and around the world and is often the first (or one of the first) agencies responding when need erupts; they can use it.  You can find more information about PDA, including how to make a donation by clicking HERE. 

Remember, Jesus’ followers—not knowing they were traveling with Jesus—invited and implored the stranger (who ended up being Jesus, and who seemed content to continue his journey) to “stay with them” at least for a meal.  A meal that ended up making all the difference.  You’ve asked Jesus to “stay with you.”  There are people who need us to “stay with them,” too.  Now, more than ever.