"Then and Now"
a sermon based on Luke 24: 13-35
by Rev. Timothy DeFrange
 

Is this gospel story real to us or do we look at it as someone else's story? What if this happened to you?

Put yourself into the shoes of the two disciples on the road to Emmaus. It is Easter afternoon, and the two of you  just heard about the women finding the tomb empty. The men checked it out. There was no sign of Jesus. You're hesitant to believe in Jesus' resurrection. It seems too good to be true.  Unlike us, these disciples had not have the privilege to grow up with the resurrection story. To them the resurrection of Jesus was too impossible to believe!

As you walk down that road, you may be mourning, trying to remember Jesus as he was in life--not the Jesus on the cross. You remember every expression on his wise and kind face. You remember every inflection of his strong, eloquent voice. you remember his every gesture, his every word and action of kindness and grace, his powerful sermons.

But now your hopes, your purpose in life are dashed. You feel lost. Sad. Perhaps the road to Emmaus is the road back to your home. You feel like soldiers returning to your homestead after losing the battle.

Your conversation is subdued by heavy emotions. You are talking to your friend, searching for explanations that can't be found, for sensible answers to the terrible way the life and ministry of Jesus has ended. Your discussion goes in circles because Jesus was always a person of hopeful, happy endings and his crucifixion is not a hopeful, happy ending. Yet neither of you can make any sense of Jesus' empty tomb.

Then a stranger who has been walking along in the same direction not far from you moves alongside you. He matches your stride step for step. He tactfully enters into your conversation. You kind of take to him and don't mind filling him in on your conversation topic. You don't recognize him because this is the resurrected Jesus. His body is more perfect than the Jesus you knew so well these past two years.

Interestingly, the stranger doesn't agree with any of your depressing conclusions. Instead, he starts listing the prophecies in scripture to explain why Jesus the Messiah had to die. What he is saying to you isn't easy for you to accept. Here you are grieving the loss, and this stranger is quoting a dozen scripture passages telling you that he had to die. Maybe, you feel upset with him at several points. As you finally run out of "yes, buts," you  realize that this stranger shows more belief in Jesus' resurrection than either of you have.

As you near your stopping place for the night, you realize something else. You realize that even though you have been arguing, this stranger's words of hope and promise fill an empty place inside you. You want to listen to him some more, and so you invite him to join you for the evening. He accepts your offer, and, as is the custom, you recline at a table and for an evening meal.

Then the stranger takes the bread in his hands and says the blessing, and, breaking off pieces of the bread, he hands a piece to each of you. At that moment you see that this isn't a stranger at all. It's your beloved Jesus for whom you've been grieving. Just as you realize this he's gone.

You look at each other in astonishment. You see in each other's eyes that neither of you were imagining this. You exclaim to one another, "Were not our hearts burning within us while he spoke to us on the road?" Who can eat or sleep at a time like this? You both gather your things together and put on your cloaks and go out into the night. You will risk making the whole trip back to Jerusalem in the dangerous dark just so you can tell the eleven what happened to you.

Is it possible that this gospel has actually happened to you? Did you ever come to a Sunday service weighed down by a problem that troubles you so much that you can't sleep? 

Perhaps, you didn't feel like coming today because you feel worn out. Your heart is heavy because of the problem. The problem is crushing you. You've got nowhere to turn to for help except to God. You've been praying that God will do something soon because things are getting worse.

You sit in the pew. You sing the hymns. You listen to the prayers. You wait for some word to be said that will straighten out the knot in your stomach. You do your best to listen to the Scriptures but it's hard not to dismiss the gospel stories as having happened to other people in other places and not to you. You do your best to take the sermon to heart. Still the problem weighs on you. Please God, you pray, lift this burden from my heart. Help me in my hour of need.

You join your voice to the Eucharistic prayer, and then it's communion time. You look up at the front of church and there's someone up there that has helped you in the past with a different problem. Maybe they meant to help you or maybe they didn't realize that they did. Nevertheless you've never told them how much their kindness meant to you.

But then the priest breaks a little piece of the host off the large one and holds it up and says, "Behold the Lamb of God. Behold him who takes away the sins of the world. Happy are we who are called to his supper."

You answer, "Lord, I am not worthy to receive you. Say only the word and my soul shall be healed."

And as you say those words, you see other people who have encouraged you in the past also saying those words. You watch all the people who care about, get up from the pews and go forward to receive the host and drink from the cup. It dawns on you that here at church you are once again sitting with the stranger, the one whom you didn't recognize on the road to Emmaus.

It dawns on you that, through the love and caring between you and these other members of the parish, you somehow have already recognized Jesus in them. You feel a glimmer of hope. The problem is still there but somehow you have more confidence that Jesus will help you find a way through it. He's done it before and he'll do it again.

As you receive communion, you pray that you'll have the courage you need this week to take Jesus' love home with you like the two disciples on the road to Emmaus who left the safety of the Lord's table to go out into the night. You pray for the courage to go out again into your own dark night and face that problem with faith in God's loving care for you. You pray that no matter how tough your situation becomes this week, others will see Jesus in you.  Take courage, as the disciples on the Road took courage;  may the piece of the resurrected Christ be with you along your life's journey.  God forth with God's peace in your heart.  Amen.