Sermon for April 23, 2023 – The Third Sunday of Easter
Acts 2:14a, 36-41; Psalm 116:1-3,10-17; 1 Peter 1:17-23; Luke 24:13-35
It is easy to miss the presence of Christ around us. It is all too easy for our vision and understanding to get stuck within the narrow blinders of our own experience, focused solely on what’s ours and what lies ahead, thus failing to then see the broader, bigger picture. We say with our minds that Christ is present in the elements of the Eucharist or that we should see the face of Christ in the stranger. But if you are like me, knowing this in my mind is very different from feeling it in my heart, knowing it in the depths of my soul. Moving from the head to the heart requires a very different level of recognition of Jesus, one that can change and transform our lives through a deeper relationship with God in Christ.
One of the most profound moments of recognizing the real presence of Christ is in the Eucharist, and it is not just in the bread itself but in the breaking of the bread. That act of breaking resonates with me. At times in life, we are aware of something broken in us, or in someone we love and carry in our heart. Somehow in this breakdown there is some kind of breakthrough by Christ, in ways in which we could not have anticipated.
Yet, if we are honest, that brokenness is where most of us are, a lot of the time -- somewhere in between distress and belief. Between disillusionment and acceptance. Between dashed hopes and promises fulfilled.
That is precisely where the disciples are as they walk the seven miles from Jerusalem to Emmaus and encounter a fellow traveler on the way.
Building upon the themes of the empty tomb and the doubts of Thomas, the heart of the Emmaus story is a story of how disbelief is dispelled, how two deeply involved disciples are able to move beyond the unparalleled events of the past few days to an experience of personal recognition.
Luke uses this setting, two disciples engrossed in a conversation while they walk, as one of the contexts for Jesus’ resurrection. Most often, we think of resurrection as the flash of God’s triumph over death dealing powers. And yet Luke gives us a different aspect of this resurrection event, which is less “flash” of light and more the gentle probing of our heart’s entanglements on the road to our next chapter.
Instead of a flashy encounter, Jesus comes alongside these disciples as a fellow traveler on the way. Disguised as the stranger he interrupts their conversation and Jesus gets them to articulate what they have just experienced. “What things?” says Jesus. And the response of the disciples is right on, “Where have you been these last few days, dude? Living under a rock?” Yet, the question “what things?” leads the disciples to describe the things that had taken place, -- to name the hurt. To name the fear. To name the doubt. And then Jesus picks it up from there and takes it home.
That’s what Jesus does. What Jesus wants us to know today, not just that he will show up, but that he will show up and give us the opportunity to speak the truth of our pain; help us make sense of it all, or at least some of it; help us get to a place where we can see beyond just what’s happened; help us move from “we had hoped” to “the Lord is risen indeed.”
Like the disciples, we too never quite know how, and where, and in whom, we will meet Jesus. So, what does it mean to meet the resurrection on the road, as a stranger, when we are between places and perhaps beside ourselves?
Not too long ago I too stood in that very place, stuck in limbo. I too was walking along my road, unaware of just how present Christ was in my journey.
My wife is called to be a mother. I knew it from the moment I met her. I saw how she loved children because of the love, care, and attention she showered upon our nieces and the longing that lingered in her eyes. I felt that love radiate from her and knew that she had so much love to give beyond ourselves. Even before we were married, we dreamed of our life together and from the very beginning we knew children would be involved. I kept telling her that “whether it happens naturally or through adoption, you will be a mother.”
After a year of marriage, we felt it was time to grow our family. We were so excited at first. Creating dreams in our minds, and crafting a future narrative of what our family will be like. And when the first few months passed with no positive sign of pregnancy, our hopes were not diminished. We were resolute. But then more months passed and... nothing. With each passing month, our dreams began to fade. With each passing month, it felt like we were letting go of our hope, little by little, a slow long goodbye.
It was becoming harder and harder to watch her go through these cycles of hope, excitement, and then only to be disappointed. We were stuck in that in-between place of distress and belief, of disillusionment and acceptance, of dashed hopes and faithfulness to a God who loves us. It would have been too easy to give up, but we kept walking the way, even though I felt like we were lost and alone.
But standing in that in-between place, we were not alone. Far from it. It may have been hard to recognize at times, but Christ was present around us, through the doctors and nurses who remained hopeful when we could not. Christ was present through the prayers and love of our church community, who silently and steadfastly walked with us as the faithful disciples, as family, when we found it hard to stand on our own. Christ was present in every phone call from the nurse that told us “not this time, but we are not giving up.”
Just as Christ was present in those moments of grief, sorrow, and sadness, so too is he present in the joys of our lives. Christ is present now in the joy and thankfulness of my heart. Our prayers were answered, not when or how we wanted, but nevertheless our prayers were answered. We were lucky. Sometimes it takes years for our prayers to be answered. Sometimes our prayers are not answered in the way that we want or expect. The result is not what matters most, but recognizing the presence of Christ that is with us and surrounds us as we wait and struggle. Christ is indeed present all around us as we walk this journey of faith.
We too are on the journey to Emmaus. We are all searching and hoping and praying for things to change in our lives. We are searching for liberation from the things that bind us up; freedom from our addictions, our fears, our blindness, our indifference. We are all searching for redemption and transformation as we seek to let go of our shame, so that we can make amends for our transgressions against others and live with changed hearts. We are all searching for love, for community, for meaning to our lives. And ultimately, we are seeking the presence of Jesus in our midst as we walk the road of reconciliation to God. We are longing for God to break into our lives so that the world may be transformed and it will come in the form of a stranger we meet along the way.
We will all stand in these in-between places throughout our lives. You may be standing in one right now. You may be struggling to find balance between distress and the belief that God is with you, but still feeling like you are alone. You may be stuck in between disillusionment and acceptance, as your will crashes up against the will of God. You may be stuck between dashed hopes and promises fulfilled, as you realize that you have very little control over your life and yet Jesus still shows up in the most unexpected ways. No matter where we stand, Jesus will be there and help us to carry our burdens.
In Jesus’ death and resurrection, the long story of God’s purpose for creation, for humanity, for us…finds its culmination. The resurrection is not just a miracle of a revived corpse. In it and through it the plan and reign of God are fulfilled.
The road to Emmaus shows us that when “the cords of death entangle us; when the grip of the grave lay hold on us; when we suffer grief and sorrow, the Lord will indeed save our lives,” by walking the road with us. And that somewhere, eventually, is the place where we recognize and start to live out the life-changing presence of the resurrected Christ.
