Luke 24:32

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?

I love this part of the story and this exclamation in particular: “Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?”

I love it, first, because it’s such a contrast to their earlier expression of grief: “But we had hoped….” Tremendous, almost indescribable disappointment turned into hearts burning with faith and hope. That’s part of the gospel promise. Not that such a transformation happens immediately, but that there are times in this life of intense grief, pain, disappointment, doubt, and more that, while intensely difficult, are not the final or ultimate reality. Rather, at the end of all things is always hope, healing, restoration, faith, peace, and joy.

This is, in a nutshell, the promise of resurrection. Death and disappointment do not have the last word: life and love have the last word. After sadness there will always be burning hearts. And we gather on Sunday morning to remind each other of that reality and promise.

Which brings me to the second thing I love about this exclamation: this is what Luke hopes and expects church will be like. That we will be met on the way to have the Scriptures opened to us and be gathered around the meal such that our hearts burn with newfound hope and faith.

This doesn’t mean, I think, that every sermon will be electrifying or all church music will cause our spirits to soar. Rather, it promises that as we gather to hear the word opened and the meal shared we will encounter Christ, be drawn more deeply into the story of Scripture and into fellowship with each other, and that our faith be kindled once again.

And that’s a vision of Sunday worship that, well, makes my heart burn.

Prayer: Dear God, draw us together each week that our hearts might burn with faith, hope, and love. In Jesus’ name, Amen.