Third Sunday of Easter

"The Emmause Disciples" Abraham Bloemaert, 1622

Several years ago in confirmation class, we were discussing the resurrection of Christ, and one student said with some exasperation, “Yeah, but how do you KNOW? How do you know for sure this is true?” Someone else looked at this student and said, “You just have to believe! Faith is the answer.” That answer, while true, caused the first student to sigh loudly and shake the head and say, “Easy for YOU to say.”

Go now to the dusty road to the village named Emmaus. Two almost-anonymous disciples of Jesus are talking as they walk along. They are discussing the details of Jesus’ arrest, trial and execution. They are also whispering about the rumors of his resurrection. These two disciples know it all—they have all the details—they just haven’t put them together.

When a stranger starts walking with them and asks what’s going on, they are astonished that this man doesn’t know what happened to Jesus of Nazareth. Has this guy been living under a rock or on the moon? How could he not know? But this is beautifully ironic—this man is no stranger; it’s Jesus. The two disciples even though they know all the right stuff, are really clueless. And Jesus, who appears to know nothing, really knows it all.

Often in our churches, especially Lutheran churches, faith is reduced to head-knowledge. People think that one has to know enough about God to believe. One has to know enough to have faith. One has to know enough to be confirmed. One has to know enough to receive Holy Communion. Some Christians would even want to argue that one has to know enough to be baptized, otherwise, it supposedly doesn’t "work."

But look at this text. Jesus clearly illustrates that faith is a gift from God, it is no work of yours. The disciples on the road know a lot of stuff about what happened, but they do not yet believe that Jesus is truly the one to redeem Israel, just as he said. They do not yet believe that Jesus really rose from the dead, just like he promised he would. St. Paul writes that faith seeks understanding, understanding does not give rise to faith. Faith, for these two disciples on the road to Emmaus does not come until Jesus acts, until Jesus breaks bread with them, until Jesus opens their hearts and minds and eyes.

I know people who know all the details of Christianity, and yet their hearts are cold. They do not trust God and take him at his word. And I know other people who struggle to remember the names of Old Testament prophets, have some difficulty finding the book of 1 Peter in their bibles,  but they love Jesus Christ dearly and follow him so closely, and hunger after him so deeply.  Their hearts are burning within them with a faith that blazes for all to see.

Don’t misunderstand me here. I would never say that education serves no purpose, or that it is actually detrimental to faith. You know I don’t believe that. Education and knowledge and study of the details serves to explain faith, to feed it and deepen it. That’s why Jesus spends miles on the road to Emmaus, tracing the story of God’s work all through history. He basically has an Old Testament overview for these disciples, connecting the dots. What I am saying here is that we Lutherans often distill faith to mean “knowing enough.” Our tradition is one of excellent theology and education, educated clergy and laity, and concern with right belief and right understanding.

That is very good, but it has poisoned us a little. Because the old sinful self is always looking for ways to turn faith into a work, into something that I have control over, something that I can do myself. When that happens, we miss the beauty the comes when faith is looked at not as a work, or something one must get, or something one must have enough of—but as a gift from God. A gift from the God who gives himself in the Word, in the waters of Baptism, in the absolution spoken for you, in the breaking of the bread and the pouring of the wine.

This  is God’s action alone. On the road to Emmaus, it is Jesus who draws near to the disciples, not the other way around. It's Jesus who interprets the Scriptures, and opens their eyes. Faith is a gift from God. It can only be seen and understood in retrospect, just as the two disciples, after their eyes were opened, remembered how their hearts burned within them as they talked with Jesus.

Faith was given to you at baptism. Most of you don’t remember that, don’t remember your hearts burning within you as God spoke the words that made you his child. You don’t understand how that happened, but you do know that same faith is now in your life. Your eyes have been opened. And your eyes are opened every time you receive Jesus in the breaking of the bread, in the Holy Communion. Every time you taste the goodness of the Lord, hearts that have grown chilly are set on fire. Every time you receive his Body and Blood, you recognize Jesus and receive his forgiveness.

Do you know how that works? Neither do I. We might know all the details of Holy Communion, but the faith and forgiveness and the real presence of the Lord with physical bread and wine are God’s action. We don’t know how it “works,” but we do know that our eyes are opened and we see the Lord who lives and gives himself in the breaking of the bread.

Sometimes, we get so wrapped up in details that we fail to see the one to whom all the details point.  But just as Jesus interpreted all the details of the Scriptures to his two followers, so he also comes to us to break into our smallness, our confusion, our grief and despair and make sense of our messes, too. Through the spoken Word, through the Holy Sacraments, God comes to you to open your eyes, to set your hearts on fire, to lead you to others to tell the good news: The Lord is risen indeed!

Thanks be to God who has ransomed us from our futile ways with the precious blood of Christ, the Lamb without defect or blemish. Thanks be to God who makes us born anew, not of perishable, but of imperishable seed. Thanks be to God that his promise is for us, our children and for everyone whom the Lord our God calls to him. Thanks be to our God who is made known to us in the breaking of the bread, who gives himself to feed us, to make us alive when we were once dead.  Amen!