Sermon 5 April 2015 Easter Day 6.30 Choral Evensong
Readings: Ezekiel 37.1-14; Luke 24.13-35
Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road ...?”
For me, this sentence is an expression of life and joy; it is physical and exciting.
It is the point in Luke’s gospel account of the Emmaus road journey when the mood of the two people, unknowingly walking with Jesus, changes from despondency to joy, from death to life.
Have you noticed that when athletes or football players or managers are interviewed, if they have lost the race or the match, they are tired and lacking in energy. Their disappointment shows.
If they have won, they are full of energy – the athletes do a lap of honour; the footballers are animated and smiling; they enjoy sharing their good news with each other.
We can imagine the same picture with the two on the Emmaus road. They look sad; they are no doubt tired. What they had hoped for has not happened.
Then, on realising that they have seen Jesus, they are suddenly full of energy and life and they happily walk the seven miles back to Jerusalem to tell the disciples, to share the good news with others. Their hearts are burning within them!
It is curious why they did not recognise Jesus earlier.
(Interestingly, I noticed last night in the Easter vigil how different people’s faces looked when the church was in darkness. Sitting at the altar, looking at the faces lit up by the candles each person held, the faces looked quite unrecognisable.)
Perhaps it was because they were not expecting to see him – they had become fixed in a mindset of sadness and despondency so were not open to anything else? Or perhaps it was because Jesus’ resurrection body was transformed and was not how they had remembered him? The bible text makes it sound as if the lack of recognition was deliberate. Perhaps, there is more for us to learn from this event than if they had recognised him straight away?
Whatever the reason, this gave Jesus the chance to ask them what they had been talking about. He gave them the opportunity to put into words their version of events; to be listened to as they expressed their disappointment – which could have been quite cathartic, a healing experience for them. Psychologically, this was a good thing to do. Generally, if we have a concern, it somehow seems to help if we simply put into words how we are feeling, even if the hearer just listens and does not respond...
For example, recently I heard someone say that they had had a row that morning – they seemed to want to say it, so they were not bearing it all on their own.
Alternatively, in the words of sociological research, Jesus was acting like a ‘naive incompetent’, pretending that he knew nothing of what had happened so he could get the full description from them.
What was it that suddenly changed so that they recognised him after all? It was when he did a familiar action, that of breaking bread and blessing it. Something they would have seen him do many times when they ate together. It is interesting that it is a familiar action which brought recognition, rather than the physical appearance.
Last Wednesday, I took Home Communion to Bridgedale Care home – the care home just down the road for dementia sufferers. It is clear that the disease causes them to have an impaired memory and things can seem strange and unknown to them.
However, it is noticeable that the residents join in with the familiar words of the communion service and the well-known hymns we sing. They recognise this familiar event even though they may not recognise me.
For us now, this leads to the question about how we continue to recognise Jesus today, who is risen and no longer visible to us.
Yet, the song, Lord of the Dance, includes the lines in the chorus,
“I’ll live in you if you live in me,
I am the Lord of the dance, said he.”
So, it is saying that we see Jesus living in others; the risen Christ lives in you and me.
In John 16.19,20 Jesus speaking to the disciples says:
“In a little while the world will no longer see me, but you will see me; because I live, you also will live. On that day you will know that I am in my father and you in me, and I in you.”
It is interesting to think of the Ezekiel reading and the valley of the dry bones which came to life, in light of the Emmaus road experience. Similarly, Ezekiel’s vision includes a change of mood from despondency to joy; from death to life. The Israelites have been in exile for ten years now; Jerusalem has fallen and there seems no hope, even though Ezekiel the prophet has spoken of the promise of restoration in the future. It does not seem to be happening. The despondent cry, “Can these bones live?” expresses that despair – just like the two on the Emmaus road, they have no hope. They no longer believe or recognise that it can happen.
Then, in the vision, first Ezekiel prophesies to the dry bones and they take on flesh but are still dead; then second, Ezekiel prophesies to the breath, and the flesh and bones live. The Lord is demonstrating that what is hoped for will happen. This is all a joyful surprise in the midst of despondency. A promise of life and resurrection!
One bible commentator makes the highly significant point that it is only when Ezekiel prophesies to the BREATH – the wind, the spirit - that the bones live; on prophesying to the BONES, they took on flesh but they did not live. This commentator likens prophesying to the bones to preaching, telling the bones to live – but they were lifeless and could not help themselves. And prophesying to the breath is likened toprayer – speaking to the Spirit, asking it to effect the miracle of re-creation, to breathe into the bodies the breath of life. Speaking to the Spirit of God is more effective than trying to rely on human strength.
Returning to the Emmaus road, “Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?”
The enlivening Spirit of God was at work in them as they – unknowingly – talked to Jesus.
Today, we no longer see Jesus but he told us in John’s Gospel that he is in us, in you and I. Perhaps we do not always recognise him ...and yet, as we speak to one another, do we sometimes find our hearts burning within us as we make contact with the presence of the risen Lord in each other.