Luke 24:1-12

Easter Day | April 17, 2022 | Lk 24:1-12 | Paul Bieber |

Luke 24:1-12 Revised Standard Version

 ¹ On the first day of the week, at early dawn, the women who had come with Jesus from Galilee went to the tomb, taking the spices which they had prepared. ² And they found the stone rolled away from the tomb, ³ but when they went in they did not find the body. ⁴ While they were perplexed about this, behold, two men stood by them in dazzling apparel; ⁵ and as they were frightened and bowed their faces to the ground, the men said to them, “Why do you seek the living among the dead? ⁶ Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, ⁷ that the Son of man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men, and be crucified, and on the third day rise.” ⁸ And they remembered his words, ⁹ and returning from the tomb they told all this to the eleven and to all the rest. ¹⁰ Now it was Mary Magdalene and Jo-anna and Mary the mother of James and the other women with them who told this to the apostles; ¹¹ but these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them.

also

Acts 10:34-43

Psalm 118:1-2, 14-24

I Corinthians 15:19-26

Why Do You Seek the Living Among the Dead?

Christ is risen. Alleluia!

He is risen indeed. Alleluia!

Grace, peace, and much joy to you, people of God.

St. Paul says it: If for this life only we have hoped in Christ, we are of all people most to be pitied. Yet the women’s words on that first Easter morning seemed to the disciples an idle tale, and they did not believe them. These women had come with Jesus and the disciples from Galilee, had witnessed the crucifixion from a distance and seen where Jesus was buried. On the Sabbath they rested as the commandments and the tradition required.

Bringing their spices, the women made their way to the tomb early the next morning. They found what they did not expect to find: the tomb open, the stone rolled away, and two men in dazzling apparel—as at the Transfiguration. They did not find what they expected to find: the body of the Lord Jesus. They were perplexed: what they encountered made no sense to them. This shows how inconceivable Jesus’ talk of rising again on the third day was—even for the most willing among his listeners. Nowhere in human religion—or any human experience—can we find openness to such an event in a world in which the dead stay dead: Life is this life only.

Into the women’s perplexity comes a reminder from the two men in dazzling, heavenly apparel. It begins with a question that is itself a revelation: “Why do you seek the living among the dead?” Jesus is the living one, the one who lives. Why look for such a one among the dead? That the crucified Jesus lives is the heart of the gospel. The resurrection of Jesus is the starting point of the Christian faith.

Then comes the reminder: remember Jesus’ own words, when he was with you in Galilee, that he must be handed over to sinners, and be crucified, and on the third day rise. They remembered, went back and told the eleven and the rest. Did the disciples remember Jesus’ words? What they remembered was not enough to kindle belief. But, again, who can blame them? The Jewish tradition did believe in a resurrection at the end of time, but not in the midst of the continuing old world. Human experience simply offers no instance in which such an event could be considered remotely possible. The women’s words seemed to them an idle tale and they did not believe. 

And there today’s Easter Gospel ends. This is not quite as frustrating an end to the Easter morning proclamation as St. Mark’s: the women said nothing to anyone after leaving the empty tomb because they were afraid. All four Gospels tell of the empty tomb, and all (if you include the longer ending of St. Mark) have resurrection appearances to the Eleven. Usually I welcome the discipline of the Lectionary, but we can’t stop here today. Because it is between the empty tomb account and the appearance to the Eleven that St. Luke has tucked away his real Easter story. It is appointed for an Easter evening service, which we don’t have; it only shows up in the morning on Easter III in Year A. It is the story of the road to Emmaus.

Two of those among the Eleven and all the rest who did not believe the women’s idle tale decided to leave Jerusalem and walk home to Emmaus, about seven miles. On the way they were joined by a stranger, apparently a fellow Passover pilgrim also going home after the festival. The stranger, St. Luke tells us, was Jesus, but their eyes were kept from recognizing him. When he asks them what they are discussing as they walk, they are amazed that he seems to know nothing of the momentous events of these last three days: the arrest, trial, and crucifixion of Jesus of Nazareth in Jerusalem—the prophet they had hoped would redeem Israel. But now the prophet and their hopes are dead—even though some women among his followers found his tomb empty on this third day, and said they had seen a vision of angels saying that he was alive.

“O foolish ones,” the stranger addresses Cleopas and his companion: hope for redemption by a political savior or prophetic deliverer is dashed by the cross. The stranger chides them as slow of heart to believe all that the prophets had foretold. As the angels told the women at the tomb, so the stranger tells the Emmaus disciples: the Messiah had to suffer these things and only then enter into his glory.

As for ourselves, we should not think these disciples too foolish, or that their hearts are particularly slow to believe. Neither a crucified Messiah nor a Messiah risen from the dead is intelligible on the basis of the tradition. For the earliest Christians, it was not so much that the scriptures as taught threw light on Jesus, rather that Jesus brings out the meaning of the scriptures. Only on the basis of who Jesus is can the scriptures be understood. And Jesus himself begins this use of scripture on the road to Emmaus: beginning with Moses and going through the prophets he articulates his identity as the suffering Servant and risen Lord.

Walking and talking, they come to Emmaus. The stranger appears to be going further, but they invite him to remain, saying, as we do in Evening Prayer: Stay with us for it is evening, and the day is almost over. They sit down to supper and the guest becomes the host. As at the feeding of the five thousand and the Last Supper, he takes the bread, gives thanks, breaks the bread, and gives it to them. Their eyes are opened, they recognize him, he vanishes. Turning to each other, Cleopas and his companion say: Did not our hearts burn within us on the road, as he opened to us the scriptures?

Well, we may say, of course. To have the risen Jesus interpret the scriptures to us in light of his own messianic identity, to eat and drink with him after he rose from the dead—then it’s easy to believe. But the Emmaus story is here precisely to tell us that we need not be envious of the Emmaus disciples’ experience. Even they, who saw the risen Jesus with their own eyes, did not recognize him until the scriptures were expounded and the bread broken. And we have the very same means of knowing our risen Lord.

Throughout the Easter season we hear examples of the apostolic preaching from the Act of the Apostles. And faithful preaching today is the attempt to say what we must say now to be saying what they said then, opening the scriptures in the light of Christ. In the breaking of the Eucharistic bread we do what the Lord commanded be done for the remembrance of him. Right here and now, in the midst of the continuance of this old world, a new mode of life comes to be recognized in these means of grace.

And not for this life only. Not the dead Jesus, a religious leader who, despite his failure, raised some interesting ideas about God and how we should live—ideas we can incorporate into our spiritual worldview insofar as his message is interesting to us. But judgment and justice as well as love and mercy would be but an idle tale in this old world run by the cunning and crafty, whose petty calculation would be more important than trusting love.

No, the risen Lord Jesus, the new thing springing forth that changes the human situation, bringing a new dimension of existence—he reveals himself and beckons us to follow him, the one freed from the bonds of death forever in the power of God, who, while no longer belonging to this old world, is truly present here, himself, in his word, in his meal. He loves us. He comes to meet us. He reveals himself to us. Our hearts, even our broken hearts, burn within us. And we no longer live for this life only. We do not seek the living among the dead, for

Christ is risen. Alleluia!

He is risen indeed. Alleluia!

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

—

The Rev. Dr. Paul Bieber, STS

San Diego, California, USA

E-Mail: paul.bieber@sbcglobal.net