Sermon for the Third Sunday of Easter

Sunday 10th April 2005

Preached by Rev Brian Parker

The management course for computer software engineers was coming to an end. There was just one last question.

“If you had just boarded an areoplane and discovered that your team of programmers were responsible for the flight control software, hands up how many of you would immediately get off the plane?”

They all raised their hands – except one.

“So then what would you do?”

“Well”, he replied, “I would be quite content to stay on board. You see with my team’s software the plane would be unlikely to even taxi as far as the runway, never mind take off!”

No confidence then in the programmers!

On the third day after the Crucifixion of Jesus we could say there was a crisis of confidence among his followers and friends.

Those who had shared in his ministry in Galilee and listened with such awe to his teaching, who had indeed witnessed miraculous signs of his Divine power – they were now broken people, cut to the heart and drained of all confidence.

They were grounded in a depressing sadness. Numb with dismay. The Psalmist experienced the same kind of spiritual dismay in his life. “In my dismay, I said all men are liars”.

Perhaps on this third day some were beginning to think that the Jesus story had all been a gigantic con, a cruel deception, even a pipedream

Certainly on the Emmaus Road this feeling of dismay is very apparent in the demeanour of the two disciples heading for home.

Luke tells us they were walking into the sunset, ‘it was nearly evening’. They were getting away from Jerusalem and more than that, in their hearts and minds they were getting away from the whole sorry experience and away from their fellow disciples. They had broken away from the fellowship of Christ’s followers.

‘Their faces were downcast’.

Well if they were downcast what about Peter? The man who had denied Jesus was still in Jerusalem. What sort of a state was he in? Surely he would carry that burden of shame for the rest of his life?

And what of the others who had been so close to Jesus – what of them?

The women had gone to the tomb. They said it was empty. The others dismissed this as ‘idle talk’. Others wondered and rumours began to spread. Certainly there were mixed evaluations as to what it meant.

And all around them public opinion was dismissive. The ‘Jesus followers’ had got a bad press, they were derided and some even regarded them as nothing better than drunken idiots. The best thing they could do was to go home.

But the tomb was empty. And then on the Emmaus Road ‘Jesus himself came up and walked along with them.’ He came to them like a shepherd caring for two lost and bewildered sheep.

The ensuing conversation represents a transition from blindness to sight, from faithlessness to faith. What had been derided as nonsense gives way to a meal with their Risen Lord.

And central to this transition is Scripture and the Eucharist.

Scripture is the context and the focus of their conversation. “Beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, he explained to them what was said in all the Scriptures concerning himself”.

These two disciples knew the Jesus story inside out, but they are spiritually blind.

In their blindness they chastise Jesus for being naive. “Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have taken place there in these days?”

But they are the fools. Jesus draws on the Scriptures to reveal God’s truth. Then as they share a meal they recognise Jesus in the breaking of the bread. In that moment, that Eucharistic moment, the disciples receive and welcome their Lord.

So in Word and Sacrament their faith is nurtured, light dawns, and they turn towards the sunrise. “The Lord has risen indeed”.

We may all find ourselves on the Emmaus Road at some time or other. In our familiarity with the Jesus story we can lose a sense of “The Holy” in communion with God.

We may shape God to fit our own design and preferences. We may give God a ‘designer label’ such as ‘ideal lifestyle’, ‘source of good advice’, ‘ethical standard’. But that would be a god too small, as JB Phillips said.
Such a god makes it easy for us to turn a blind eye to the possibilities of our vocation; makes it easy for us to turn a deaf ear to the true and living Word.

And in our worship of such a god we may indulge in ‘ glib gigs’ as Archdeacon John Holdsworth puts it. Then prayer may become pious babbling, grovelling confession or frantic petition.

And when life disappoints, when people let us down, when we are full of dismay and self pity – we may walk away into the sunset, away from responsibilities, away from duty and service.

Nevertheless the Lord’s Supper, the Holy Communion is not the Last Supper. The Lord’s Supper is a resurrection meal to which we are invited, as we are, where we are, whatever our feelings or circumstances.

It is a meal round the Lord’s Table. He is our host. “Jesus himself draws near’. It is a Holy Communion experience in which we participate in the whole ministry of Jesus – past, present and future.

It is a thanksgiving. It is a testimony to a personal, dynamic relationship. The Risen Lord with us.

He asks ‘do we lack anything?’ He offers us food for the journey – a spiritual food that restores, encourages and strengthens.

“Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again”.

That was the experience of the disciples on the Emmaus Road and in their home in the breaking of the bread.

Then the two disciples rush back the seven miles to Jerusalem to tell the Good News. By now there are other reports of the Risen Lord making himself known. And suddenly a ring of confidence surrounds them. Dismay has given way to hope.

“The Lord has appeared to Simon”. The burden of guilt has gone. Simon Peter’s self respect is restored and later he speaks powerfully about who Jesus is, not with a threat of judgement but rather emphasising the Lord’s loving mercy and forgiveness.

The God of limitless love has transformed everything – even death itself.

And that transforming work is our hope.

Pope John Paul reminded us of his calling. He stressed how the Lord takes the initiative. “You have not chosen me, I have chosen you” to carry on this redeeming, transforming work of grace. “I am sending you” into the world as partners in the Gospel.

But it is a costly service. In a world full of dismay and uncertainty. There is poverty, physical and spiritual, moral wastelands, rejection and shameful injustices. There is little confidence in God.

As you will see from the poster at the back of the Church, today marks the beginning of what has been billed as “Global Week of Action” – a significant development in the Making Poverty History campaign.

In this coming week, all over the world, people are coming together to make things better. Things like unjust global trading deals that suffocate any chance of recovery for the very poor. Things like turning a blind eye to the need for new initiatives in the work of healing the sick and saving millions of lives.

One relatively small gathering under the Making Poverty History banner will take place on our own doorstep on Friday next when around 1800 people are expected to attend a public meeting in the grounds of Bangor Town Hall at 7.30pm.

Think about it, and put it into the context of your Christian duty to be there.

As Christians we believe that human misery may be alleviated. The broken in heart may be restored. By the grace of God things can be changed for the better.

So participate –the ‘Make Poverty History’ campaign is just one immediate opportunity to be part of what could be a significant global movement for change. It may indeed become a transforming experience.

It’s not so much about taking off; more about taking on the tyranny of injustice and greed; taking to heart the Gospel imperative to ‘overcome evil with good’.

And “Jesus himself walked with them”.

In mission, in ministry, in service that is our confidence. As St Paul said: “I have confidence through the Risen Lord.”

Amen.