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+ + + In Nomine Jesu + + +
Please join me in prayer: May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be pleasing in your sight, O Lord, our Rock and our Redeemer. Amen.
Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from the Lord Jesus Christ.
Alleluia! Christ is risen! (He is risen indeed! Alleluia!)
“Alleluia!” meaning “Praise the Lord!” is an appropriate response to the Good News that the Lord indeed is risen. “Alleluia!” meaning “Praise the Lord!” is also an appropriate response to the peace and joy that the Lord’s resurrection brings to us. Good News and peace and joy we have heard about for two Sundays of Easter already. But, on this Third Sunday of the Easter Season, a third Gospel Reading details different events of Easter Day. With details unique to St. Luke’s divinely‑inspired account (compare Mark 16:12-13), today’s Gospel Reading tells of two men on the road to Emmaus: two men who, at the start, were sad over their seemingly unmet hopes of redemption, but two men who, at the end had their hopes exceeded in the breaking of the bread. Today we pray that God uses our consideration of His Word so we likewise find our hopes exceeded in the breaking of the bread.
The identity of the two men, who were sad at the start, is a matter of some interest. The Gospel Reading gives us the name of one of them, Cleopas, apparently an uncle of Jesus, the husband of one of the Marys who had been at the cross (John 19:25) and had gone to the tomb early that Easter morning (Luke 24:10), and the father of one of Jesus’s twelve disciples. As for the other of them, some copies of Luke and other church writings give various names, but we can be certain of no name, and his identity is not critical. (Personally, I am somewhat persuaded that the other is St. Luke himself, in part by the village’s name’s meaning “warm springs” that could have been used for healing and St. Luke’s being known as a physician [Colossians 4:14]).
The question of the men’s identity is asked by the First Distribution hymn we will sing today (Lutheran Service Book 476), with its title “Who are you who walk in sorrow?” (By the way, the text of that hymn is new to this congregation, but its tune is one we have used before with a different hymn text.) Hymn‑writer Herman Stuempfle refers to the men’s hearts as “distraught” and their hopes as “defeated”, and he also draws us into the story, referring to our mourning our dead and our standing by unyielding graves. No doubt we have lost relatives, friends, and other loved ones to death and to other circumstances. No doubt our own hearts have been distraught and our own hopes defeated as our various expectations seemingly go unmet, our dreams ostensibly turned to dust.
The men had thought of Jesus as prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, and they had hoped that He was the one to redeem Israel, but His crucifixion and the passing of three days apparently changed those things. They remained deeply depressed, despite the women’s not finding Jesus’s body and their saying that He was alive. On the road to Emmaus, as the men were kept from recognizing Jesus (perhaps to help them focus on His teaching), Jesus called them foolish and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets had spoken. For example, they apparently believed in the Messiah, the Christ, but not that it was necessary for Him to suffer such things. Of course, by nature we are no better. Too often we have a blasé indifference to the Resurrection story we have heard so many times over. Like the men on the road to Emmaus, we are foolish and slow of feeling, willing, and understanding. And, even when we believe that the Christ’s suffering was necessary, we still may not believe all that the Scriptures speak about Jesus. Even if we believe all that the Scriptures speak, we do not always act that way: we disobey in all sorts of ways, sinning in ways we think no one knows about, maybe even fooling ourselves into falsely thinking that God does not know about our sin or that He does not judge and condemn our sin.
In such ways God’s law cuts us to the heart, makes our heart burn within us, and, like those in today’s First Reading listening to Peter’s Pentecost sermon (Acts 2:14a, 36-41), we respond, “What shall we do?” And Peter’s answer stands: “Repent!” So God calls us to repent, and so we repent: we turn in sorrow from our sin, trust God to forgive our sin, and want to do better than keep on sinning. When we repent, then God forgives our sinful nature and our actual sins, whatever they may be, for Jesus’s sake.
In the Gospel Reading, Cleopas somewhat ironically asks Jesus if He is the only visitor to Jerusalem Who does not know the things that have happened there. In fact, in some sense, Jesus was the only visitor to Jerusalem Who really did know the things that had happened there. But, Jesus fills them and us in on what happened. Jesus interprets to them and to us the things concerning Himself in all the Scriptures. His suffering as God and man, His crucifixion and the passing of three days, was necessary. Though few if any seemed to understand, from the very beginning the Scriptures proclaimed a suffering Savior (for example, God in Genesis 3:15 said the Seed of the Woman’s heel would be bruised). Because of God’s great love for us, Jesus’s fulfilling those Scriptures was necessary; His death and resurrection were necessary to redeem us from our slavery to sin. Truly, as today’s Epistle Reading reminds us (1 Peter 1:17-25), from the futile ways we inherited we have been ransomed, not with perishable things such as silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ, Whom God raised from the dead, so our faith and hope are in God. And, our hopes are exceeded in the breaking of the bread.
In the Gospel Reading, at first the men’s eyes were curiously kept from recognizing Jesus, and then He was made known to them in the breaking of the bread and vanished (perhaps, once they knew He was alive, they did not need to see Him any longer in that way). As then, so now: God reveals Himself and creates faith when and where He pleases (Augsburg Confession V:2). Jesus was a Prophet mighty in deed and word. St. Luke’s whole Gospel account deals with what Jesus began to do and teach (Acts 1:1), and his book of Acts tells how the Holy Spirit through the Church continued His deeds and words. Although, we might reverse the order to words and deeds, as we have the order in the Gospel Reading’s teaching in the way and the breaking of the bread in the home, and that same order is found elsewhere in Acts (for example, Acts 2:42, 46) and relates to both the Catechism’s and the Divine Service’s halves of Word and Sacrament.
All three of today’s Readings clearly emphasize the preached Words of Holy Scripture’s revealing Jesus, and the First Reading clearly emphasizes the role of Holy Baptism, for people of all ages, including children. But, perhaps most striking is the Gospel Reading’s making clear that hopes are exceeded in the breaking of the bread. The women at the tomb early in the morning did not find Jesus’s body, but the men in the Emmaus house that afternoon did find His body, given for them and for us (Luke 22:19), in the breaking of the bread. Now, I am not necessarily saying that Jesus celebrated the Sacrament of the Altar with Cleopas and his unnamed companion, but our Lutheran Confessions do not “seriously object” to taking the passage as referring to the Sacrament (Apology XXII:7). Perhaps Cleopas and his unnamed companion had their eyes opened and recognize Jesus simply in His role of host, giver, and provider—by His taking, blessing, breaking, and giving them the bread, as He one time had done for more than 5‑thousand people (Luke 9:10‑17). But we truly find Jesus present with His crucified and resurrected body and blood in the bread and the wine of the Sacrament of the Altar. There He is made known to us in the same way of existing by which He vanished from their sight (for, despite what others think, St. Luke in that case does not say that their eyes were kept from seeing Him). There, far, far more than 5-thousand across time and space are fed and so receive the forgiveness of sins, life, and salvation. There, our hopes are exceeded in the breaking of the bread.
Perhaps like some of you, I would hate to think of Jesus’s pretending anything. Yet, today’s Gospel Reading reads as if, as the group drew near to Emmaus, Jesus apparently would have continued on by Himself, if the men had not urged Him strongly to stay with them—“abide with” the older versions have it (KJV, ASV) and we will sing in our Closing Hymn (Lutheran Service Book 878). Now, we do not know for sure what exactly prompted their invitation to what may have been a late midday meal, whether it was simple hospitality or the burning of their hearts, but, regardless of their motives, Jesus went in to stay with them, if only for a time. Still, their strongly urging Him to stay or abide with them is instructive for us.
Though nothing keeps us from recognizing Jesus, even we who believe still struggle with foolishness and slowness of heart. We struggle to let all the Scriptures and the peace and joy of His Resurrection exceed our otherwise defeated hopes and distraught, cut, and burning hearts. We need to live every day in the forgiveness of sins, so we daily repent and believe, and, like the men in the Gospel Reading, we pray Jesus to stay or abide with us. And, stay or abide with us He does! Through His Word and Sacrament He graciously is present with us to forgive our sins, not just present for a time here and now, but present always. With Him, our hopes—not only our hope for redemption but all our hopes—are exceeded in the breaking of the bread, as granted is our Collect of the Day’s petition for perpetual gladness and eternal joys
Amen.
Alleluia! Christ is risen! (He is risen indeed! Alleluia!)
The peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.
+ + + Soli Deo Gloria + + +