About UsWorship & MusicEducationParish ActivitiesCommunity OutreachHow to Reach UsNewsletter & CalendarOur LinksHome

Third Sunday of Easter

April 6, 2008
The Rev. David R. Hackett

“Open the eyes of our faith that we may behold
him in all his redeeming work.”
(The Collect of the Day)

Some questions for you this morning: What are you hungry for? What do you yearn for? What are you looking for?

Henri Nouwen coined a phrase that makes sense to me, “The filled, yet unfulfilled life.” Not a bad description of many of our lives: “The filled, yet unfulfilled life.” It seems that many of us are always looking for something. That something is often described as “the good life.” And we go down many paths search for it. Perhaps we have followed the path of work, believing that our work would bring us to the good life. Or maybe we thought that the path to the good life would be having the right mate, or getting the right degree, or having the right looks, or having the right resume. It may be that we sought the good life by living in the right neighborhood, or having the right exercise program, or having the right amount of body fat! Some seek a fulfilled life by having the right stocks and bonds, the right contacts with the right people in the right places; or even going to the right church, having the right theology, or belonging to the right political party. We’ve tried many paths to fulfillment, haven’t we? And instead of fulfilled lives we usually just end up with filled lives.

A Hasidic story tells of a man who went for a walk in the forest and got lost. He wandered around for hours trying to find his way back to town, trying one path after another, but none of them led out of the woods. Then he suddenly came across another hiker. He cried out, “Thank God for another human being! Can you show me the way back to town?” The other man replied, “No, I’m lost too, but we can help each other. We can tell each other which paths we have already tried and have been disappointed in. That will help us find the one that leads out.

In Christianity, as well as in most other faiths, religion is often referred to as “the way.” It is a guide to living in harmony with the universe, the guide to living life as it is meant to be lived. You and I, who gather in church week after week, gather in the name of the one who said that he was “the way.” We who have been “marked as Christ’s own forever”, claim to follow the one who came to show us the path of life, and not just any life, but abundant life. The author of the Letter to the Hebrews called Jesus “the pioneer and perfecter of our faith.” The pioneer: the one who has gone before us on the path of life, on the journey, to show us out of the forest to home.

This morning’s Gospel lesson is my favorite of all the resurrection appearances of Christ. St. Luke paints a wonderful picture with his words. We can see the scene in our minds’ eyes. A path, a road, winding from Jerusalem to the little town of Emmaus, some seven miles from the city walls. It is late afternoon; the sun is low in the Western sky; it’s almost dusk. There are three people walking on the way to Emmaus. One of the three on the path is the Risen Christ. But the other two persons don’t realize who it is who is with them on their journey. They are downhearted. Their leader has been killed. They are without hope. They are dejected, despairing, disappointed. They see no future, no way forward, no way out of the woods in which they find themselves. And the Risen Lord is walking with them, but they don’t know it. Later when they eat supper with the stranger, when they share a meal with the unknown one, their eyes are opened and they recognize Jesus. He is revealed to them in the breaking of the bread. And then, in retrospect, they understand that he has been with them all along.

He was revealed in the breaking of the bread. Luke’s allusion to the sacrament of the Holy Eucharist isn’t lost on us. Luke reflects the experience of the early Church and our experience today. Christ is revealed supremely in this holy meal. The bread and wine are the outward and visible signs of the body and blood of Christ, uniting us to him and to one another. Eating and drinking this Mystery enables us to be in him and he in us. It is here that we perceive him most clearly but the revelation of the Risen Lord isn’t limited to this sacrament. It certainly isn’t only here that we see the Risen Christ.

Throughout the fifty days of Easter I believe scripture is confronting us with the question, “Have you seen the Risen Christ?” Do you recognize him in your daily walk? In what guise does he come to us today? When has your heart “burned within you?” Are your eyes open to the reality that Christ is with you in all that you face, both the good times and the bad times? Are you looking for him? Do you take the time to see “for real?”

In that wonderful old play by Richard Nash, The Rainmaker, Starbuck, the dreamer of dreams that almost never come true, complains to Lizzie about a world in which reality falls far short of a man’s vision,

“Nothing’s as pretty in your hands as it was in your head. There ain’t no world near as good as the world I got up here (angrily tapping his forehead). Why?

And Lizzie replies,

“I don’t know. May it’s because you don’t take time to see it. Always on the go – here there, nowhere. Running away … keeping your own company. Maybe if you’d keep company with the world…”

And Starbuck doubtfully says,

“I’d learn to love it?”

Lizzie continues,

“You might – if you saw it real. Some nights I’m in the kitchen washing the dishes. And Pop’s playing poker with the boys. Well, I’ll watch him real close. And at first I’ll just see an ordinary middle-aged man – not very interesting to look at. And then, minute by minute, I’ll see little things I never saw in him before. Good things and bad things – queer little habits I never noticed he had – and ways of talking I never paid any mind to. And suddenly I know who he is – and I love him so much I could cry! And I want to thank God I took the time to see him real.”

Maybe that’s what we’re yearning for. Maybe that’s what we hunger for. Maybe that’s what we’re looking for: to see things real; to see the Christ in our daily walk.

A little meditation that holds a great deal of meaning for me reads,

“My eyes are squinting, Lord.
I’m looking for you
    in the restaurant,
    during the coffee break,
    across the supper table.

Are you looking at me
    through the eyes of that waiter,
    in the frown of my secretary,
    in the smile of my daughter?
My eyes are squinting, Lord.”

“Open the eyes of our faith that we may behold him in all his redeeming work.” Amen.