Imagine you are setting out with Cleopas on that first day of the week. You have a seven mile journey to make and you have to do it in just over a couple of hours. The festival of Passover is over and it is time to go home. You set out with a heavy heart; a week ago you came to Jerusalem with such high hopes, now they lay cruelly dashed. You stood amazed as the crowds acclaimed Jesus as their king and laid palm branches on the road before him. You stood horrified when he was handed over to the chief priests and elders and was led out to be crucified. You feel the heat of despair within you mixing with the heat of the evening as you start to make your way back home.
Out of the corner of your eye you catch a glimpse of another pilgrim walking alongside you. You hear him ask what you were saying to one another and why you appear to be so sad after such a joyous festival. You hear Cleopas explain the events of the last week and your hopes. You hear Cleopas tell this pilgrim about the death of Jesus and then the puzzle about the empty tomb, which the women told you about but which you couldn't bring yourself to believe.
And then you start to listen to the stranger's words, at his impromptu Bible study. Your heart seems to pick up a beat or two as he explains the scriptures to you again - though you don't like being reminded at how bad you are at understanding the Bible. After an hour or so of talking and walking you start to feel the excitement, what he is saying seems to make sense. Your heart is warmed, home is near, hope is returning. This man is good company.
It's late but the man makes as if to go on, so you invite him into your home for a meal and to stay the night. Jesus had, after all, told you to be hospitable to strangers. You listen to the guest as you prepare the meal and then, as is the custom, you ask him to say the blessing over the food.
You hear his words of blessing, you watch him break the bread and then your heart is racing, your mind turning your lips quivering as you realise that this stranger is Jesus. How could you have not noticed before? Your head fills up with many questions but Jesus is gone - like the dew in the morning.
And then you start to feel despondent again - maybe it was a dream - where is he now? You feel angry - just as you had new ears and new eyes to understand Jesus he goes again. Now that he has gone you are unsure about whether you wish to jump up and share the experience with others or sit and ponder it quietly yourself.
Put yourself in the place of those people long ago. Do you dismiss the experience as a being born out of suffering, heat and sadness or do you tell yourself the women were right and you have seen the risen Jesus? You feel a mixture of emotions - frustration and joy.
You realise that, despite your weariness of walking 7 miles you must rush back to Jerusalem to tell the others. Maybe you shouldn't have left them after all! The experience of this Easter fills you with energy and gives you the strength to go back and tell others. You can't wait to be back with the other disciples, to share your experience of Jesus, to tell them that you met him in the breaking of bread.
What happens to
us when we hear the Easter message of Jesus new life?
Do we hope that Jesis will come back to life so that we can listen to his words
of wisdom? Do we hope that Jesu can interpret life more meaningfully for us?
Do we jhoppe that Jesus can return to heal our sickness? What do we hope will
come for our own Easter experience?
Do we hope that Jesus will show us how resurrection works? Do we hope that he will give us a demonstration of his new body? Do we hope that he will make death unnecessary? What do we hope will come form our Easter experience?
Do we hope that Jesus will become our house guest? Do we hope that we can keep Jesus for ourselves as our private property? Do we hope that we can put limits on his activity so that he is not so far ahead of us? What do we hope will come form the our Easter experience:
Have we new ears to hear the scriptures relating to God's plan, not only for yesterday but also for tomorrow? Have we new ears to hear how Easter interprets our living today as well as yesterday? Have we new ears to relate the Easter story to our lives now?
Have we new eyes to see Jesus in the bread of the altar and the bread for the needy? Have we new ears to see the events of our day transformed into deeds of love to bring Jesus' presence in our midst? Have we new eyes to see suffering as shared by God as surely as bread has to be broken to be shared? What do we hope for, what do we look for when we share bread together?
The passage holds together two of the ways in which most people experience Jesus. It links the scriptures with the sacrament. We need to study the scriptures to hear the truth. We need to experience the sacrament of the Eucharist in order to receive the Risen Jesus.
The scriptures make clear that the account of Jesus is about a person who was rooted in a place and a time in history. They witness to real people and real events. This Jesus was acknowledged as a prophet who declared God's purpose and will in action and teaching. This same man was crucified by a combination of opposing forces: those who had power in religion and in state. The facts are given and the record is clear. The scriptures also record the evidence of the tomb and the first eye witnesses of resurrection.
We can shut our ears to these records. We can dismiss them as irrelevant. Yet they will not go away. They are told and retold for our good until we have new ears to listen. It is the duty of the Church to tell them. We have the opportunity to listen to them until the truth dawns.
The sacrament of the Eucharist call us to have new eyes to see the risen Jesus. We experience the same Spirit of Jesus as seen in the scriptures, but bread and wine can be touched and felt. We can look at the sacrament with the eyes of faith and see Jesus.
This sermon was first preached in the Metropolitan Community Church of Manchester. Click here for further information.