3 Easter, Yr A (2026) The Rev. Karen C. Barfield
3 Easter, Yr A (2026) The Rev. Karen C. Barfield
Luke 24:13-35 St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church
In the name of the one, holy, and loving God:
who was, and is, and is to come Amen.
On this third Sunday of Easter,
Easter Day is probably becoming a vague memory to many of us.
We have since…
watched the successful landing of the Integrity capsule of the Artemis II mission,
paid our taxes,
made visits to doctors’ offices,
and wondered if we’ll have one more final freeze so that we can plant!
But, in today’s gospel it is still the day of the resurrection…
and for the disciples,
that resurrection thing continues to be a bit blurry.
What is for certain is that Jesus was crucified just three days ago…
there is no denying that!
The question is what to do now.
How do they move forward after this devastating event?
So, that day – the third day - two of Jesus’ disciples went on a journey,
walking some seven miles away from Jerusalem to a village called Emmaus.
They had plenty of time to re-hash the events of that week,
still trying to make sense of everything…
and sharing their grief with each other.
As they walk along
a man appears from nowhere
and begins to walk in step with them.
We, of course, know that this man is Jesus,
but the gospel writer tells us that the eyes of the disciples
were “kept from recognizing him.”
We don’t know why.
If you recall the reading from last Sunday,
when Jesus appeared in the locked room among the disciples,
they didn’t recognize him either…not until he showed them the wounds in his body.
So, somehow the resurrected Jesus must look different enough
so as to not be readily recognizable.
Of course, we must also realize that the disciples weren’t expecting Jesus.
If they did believe in the resurrection,
then they would expect Jesus to show up on the “last day…”
not this day.
And perhaps they also were so caught up in their own grief and sorrow,
they weren’t thinking clearly enough to remember what he said
about being raised up in three days.
Life had changed,
and for them the light of day had turned to darkness…
even as the sun continued to shine.
So, let me pause here and ask this question:
Can you recall a time that Jesus showed up in your life over the past two weeks?
Might he have shown up,
but you were so consumed by fear or grief or busy-ness
that you did not recognize him?
As much as I try to be attentive,
I’m guessing that I miss the presence of God quite frequently.
Sometimes God shows up as clearly as a blazing light or blaring horn,
and those times are difficult to miss.
But, I think, many times that Jesus shows up in our lives,
it is much more subtle.
Like in today’s gospel story…
when two disciples are walking down the road,
trying to make sense of a tragedy,
and a stranger walks up to them and asks:
“What are you talking about?”
It seems to me the equivalent of someone coming up and asking: “How are you?”
inviting you to share what is going on in your life:
your confusion and questions,
your sorrows and griefs,
your hopes and your joys.
Jesus invites them to tell their story,
and then he listens.
After relating the whole story of Jesus’ betrayal and trial and crucifixion,
they relate the depth of their own personal grief:
“We had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel.”
“We had hoped…”
They had pinned the entire present and future of their lives on Jesus,
and now they mourned the loss of their deepest desires.
As our years pass,
I’m guessing the longer our list of grieved hopes gets.
We had hoped…
the pain would go away,
the cancer would stay in remission,
the job would be fulfilling,
this stint in treatment would finally result in lasting sobriety,
we could sleep through an entire night,
that the medication would alleviate the misery.
Upon Jesus’ invitation
the disciples pour out their pain to this stranger,
naming their losses.
And having born the risk of pouring out their hearts along the road,
when the disciples arrive at the village,
they take another risk and invite this stranger to stay with them.
Perhaps they were grateful for a listening ear…
and to have a companion who understood the scriptures
as much or more than they did.
Or perhaps they were acting purely out of their obligation
to provide hospitality to strangers,
but either way they risked hospitality.
And as they broke bread together,
their eyes were opened to recognize Jesus in their midst.
Looking back (for hindsight is a wonderful thing),
they realized their hearts had been burning all along the way.
The knew there had been a divine in-breaking
as they shared their story and their grief on the journey.
Now with their eyes opened,
they returned to Jerusalem to share the Good News:
The Lord is risen indeed!
At the beginning of their journey,
the eyes of these two disciples were kept from seeing Jesus.
Now they could see clearly.
As they risked sharing their stories…their lives…with a stranger
and then offered him hospitality,
they recognized Jesus in their midst.
We, too, are invited to offer our stories…
and to share in the stories of others.
These conversations don’t just happen in a priest’s office
but also on your neighborhood streets,
at the grocery story,
in the classroom,
at the hospital bed
or in your living room.
These conversations happen over coffee in the undercroft,
after prayer,
over a serving of sloppy Joe’s or BBQ,
or simply in the parking lot.
These conversations are where Jesus shows up…
through others in our lives…
and through us as we offer a listening ear and presence to another.
It happens all the time along this journey of faith that we are on.
Sometimes we see it in the moment,
and sometimes we see it only in retrospect.
As we continue to walk our journey from the cross to the empty tomb…
from the darkness of death into the light of new life,
Jesus walks with us and often pops up when least expected.
Let us keep our eyes and hearts open to such moments,
for God’s Grace is abundant!
As we break bread together in a few moments,
don’t be surprised
if the room suddenly fills with all the saints who have gone before us,
celebrating Life!
Amen.
