Acts 2. 14a, 36 – 41
Luke 24. 13 – 35
Fr Alex
We’ve just heard what is, for me, one of the most wonderful stories in the Gospels. The resurrection appearance of Jesus to his disciples on the Emmaus road.
For some inexplicable reason we only hear this great reading on a Sunday once every three years. And so the last time you’ll have heard it together was six years ago – because, of course, the Third Sunday of Easter three years ago, was only a few weeks into the first lockdown.
I remember it was such a comforting experience to receive this beautiful series of Eastertide readings when we were all locked away in our own homes.
Because we see Jesus breaking in to all sorts of situations: places of darkness and despair, places of doubt and fear.
On Easter Day, Jesus broke into the shock and confusion of his friends at the empty tomb, and said “Do not be afraid.”
Last week, we head that the disciples locked themselves away out of fear; but Jesus, quite literally, breaks into that situation and says “Peace be with you.”
And today, two disciples are walking to Emmaus, talking with each other about all that had happened. You can imagine how they must have been; bewildered, devastated by all that had happened. Confused, too, as they have just received word from the women of the empty tomb. They’re on their way away from it all; away from Jerusalem.
Luke tells us that they stood still, “looking sad.” One of the greatest understatements of all time!
“We had hoped that Jesus was the one to redeem Israel,” they say. They’ve lost that hope, despite the message of the women. The possibility of resurrection, the possibility of hope, is too much for them to dare to believe.
There are no words of comfort from Jesus on this occasion, however. “Oh, how foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have declared!” But he’s not condemning them for their lack of faith. He takes their doubts seriously. Just like he didn’t condemn Thomas for his doubt, last week, but took it seriously, and came back for him.
Jesus breaks open the scriptures to them, he helps them to understand what has happened. And then, in the breaking of the bread, Jesus opens their eyes and reveals himself to them, and he sets their hearts on fire.
These readings remind us powerfully of the truth that the hope, and life, and light, and joy of Jesus will always break into our lives; even if we feel totally lost; or we’ve locked ourselves away; or we’ve almost given up hope.
Today’s reading has a special place in my heart for another reason, as indeed it will for each one of us. Because it is depicted on our beautiful reredos, above the high altar.
On the left-hand side, we have the scene at the end of the Gospel reading. Jesus breaks bread with the two disciples, their eyes are opened, and they see him for an instant in all his resurrection glory.
But there’s a scene on the other side, too – and it is of a Mass, just like ours, with a priest breaking bread at an altar, just like ours.
And here is the key to understanding this reading. What the disciples experienced on that road, we experience too, every time we gather together in worship.
Like the disciples, we come together on the journey of life, often in confusion, distress, or sadness. We come together to share it, and help one another to bear it.
We might have a destination in mind – but like the disciples, travelling away from Jerusalem, it might not be the direction God desires us to go.
And so in this confusion, in the aimlessness of life, we seek our direction in deep and careful engagement with God’s word. Like the disciples, we find in breaking open the scriptures, the truth of the love and care that God shows for his creation: and his desire for us to have life, and to have it abundantly. (You may notice that text happens to be printed next to these scenes on our reredos.)
Having broken open the scriptures together, we come to our holy meal. Like the disciples, we break bread together. But of course, it’s not just us doing it. Like the disciples, Jesus is with us through all of our worship. And as we break the bread, as we share this meal of redemption together, our eyes are opened – and we see Jesus, just as truly and gloriously as those disciples did.
But it’s what happens after our time of worship that is so important. It’s what turns our act of worship once a week on a Sunday, into a life of faith.
After they share the meal, the disciples in that very same hour, get up, and return to Jerusalem. They seek others out, and tell them of what “happened on the road, and how he had been made known to them in the breaking of the bread.”
So we too, having received the comfort and consolation and inspiration of this time of worship: we too are sent out, straight after breaking bread together, to go and tell others of what we have experienced. Of the incredible grace that we have received.
“Go in the peace of Christ, alleluia, alleluia!” I sing. And you respond, “Thanks be to God, alleluia, alleluia.” That is our commitment to sharing together this resurrection faith with others.
Thanks be to God indeed, for all his mercies; and for the great gift of our beautiful faith.
Let us pray. Lord of the gathering feast, you walk with us on the shadowed road: burn our hearts with scripture’s open flame; unveil our darkened eyes as bread is torn and shared, and from the broken fragments bless a people for yourself; through Jesus Christ, the host of the world. Amen.
Prayer by Steven Shakespeare.