April 19, 2026 – The Third Sunday of Easter
Ed Hochnedel
Gospel Reading: St Luke 24: 13-35
Preaching: Ed Hochnedel, Lay Preacher
When I was 14 years old, my best friend invited me to a youth revival and retreat at his church – one of the largest in town and one noted for a conservative outlook that frowned upon drinking alcohol, playing cards or dancing.
The revival began on a Friday evening not long after Holy Week. The sanctuary was packed with teenagers all talking at once. But then a hush fell over the room as the lights dimmed and the youth pastor stepped into the pulpit.
Now I’m sure his sermon was stirring but not so memorable that any of us in the congregation retained much if any of his words. But at the end of his sermon, he paused. All of us in the sanctuary seemed to lean forward as one in anticipation of his concluding statement, a liturgical coup de gras. He looked out over us and demanded: “All of you who believe that Jesus Christ is your personal Lord and Savior, raise your hands!”
A forest of hands shot up….except mine!
Despite the fact that this was an event that occurred long ago, it has been a persistent memory and a puzzle that I have visited and revisited often -always wondering not only why it has taken up residence in my memory, but what possible relevance does it hold for me today.
At the time, I could not have answered the question: why I did not raise my hand. It could have been adolescent angst, rebellion, faith not fully developed, or perhaps I was more interested in the girl sitting in the pew in front of me to pay much attention at all to the youth pastor.
It may have been some or all of the above. But the one thing that I have no doubt of is that when we left the church on that spring evening, all of us had just barely crossed the starting line into our spiritual journey – with belief lightly or firmly held, or no belief at all. Although we could not possibly know it at the time, our journey on the road to Emmaus was just beginning and it would be the journey of a lifetime. It would be one not of a straight trajectory, but one with a destination beyond the vanishing point. A journey of many starts and stops, detours, and twists and turns.
CS Lewis in his, “The Great Divorce”, writes: “(we live in a world) where every road, after a few miles, forks into two, and each of those into two again, and at each fork you must make a decision.”
As we travel our spiritual journey alone or together, it is important to try and understand those forces, both internal and external, that might inform the decision that Lewis speaks of – the decision about which course to take, or which road to follow – all informed by these four powerful elements: Belief, Certainty, Doubt, and the Mystery of Faith.
Along the way, we would all struggle with belief that may have become ossified by the rigidity of certainty. Much like a crystal vase – beautiful yet cold, rigid and easily shattered; or by doubt often viewed as lack of faith rather than a gift that could lead us into a deeper understanding of the mystery of faith and God’s love for us.
But before we join the disciples in St Luke’s narrative of their journey to Emmaus, I would like to share what might capture the struggles they (and we) often encountered along the way.
The Rt Reverend Marianne Budde, Bishop of Washington, DC, in her Easter Vigil sermon at the National Cathedral, offered this story about a monk who died and was buried by his fellow monks in the tradition of their monastery which was in a crypt in the back wall of their chapel.
But after the funeral service, they heard noises from the other side of the wall. So they opened the crypt and the monk who died rose from his coffin and told his brothers of his experience beyond the grave which contradicted everything their tradition had taught about life after death.
So they put him back in the wall.
As humorous as this anecdote is, I think it wonderfully captures the struggles and challenges to the belief and faith the two disciples experienced as they fled Jerusalem having been witness to Jesus’ gruesome crucifixion and the following three days of deadly chaos and threats in Jerusalem.
The two had traveled with Jesus throughout his ministry and had been witness to his miracles and always puzzled at his parables. They stood in awe as he risked challenging the pharisees who would eventually devise a plot to kill him. They came to believe that he was indeed the true Messiah who possessed God-given power that would free their land from the oppressive yoke of Roman occupation.
Jesus had said as much with his claim that his power came from God!
It is understandable that the two disciples’ belief had become their center.
But try to imagine for a moment what the two must have heard and saw on the day of his arrest, trial and execution. The crowd shouting, “crucify him”! “He saved others; let him save himself if he is the Messiah of God, his chosen one!”; “If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself!”
And then the trauma of seeing His suffering and death on the cross.
The belief that had become their center did not hold.
Their belief had become ossified by the rigidity of certainty that Jesus’ true role and mission was that of a Messiah sent from God – a conqueror who would bring Rome’s domination of Isreal to an end.
On the road to Emmaus, they said as much to the stranger whom they did not recognize as Christ who asked them about the things they were discussing: “The things about Jesus of Nazareth, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, and how our chief priests and leaders handed him over to be condemned to death and crucified him. But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Isreal.”
Their doubt about Jesus’ mission and ministry had turned to despair. Their feelings of having been abandoned or perhaps betrayed must have been palpable to Christ as he walked with them.
St Luke describes what appears to be Christ’s impatience with them: “How foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe…”. But then, starting with Moses, “he interpreted to them the things about himself in all the scriptures”. That must have been quite a long walk!
As Christ was leaving them, they invited him to stay. “Stay with us”, they said. And he did.
It was at the meal that they shared together that the true majesty and mystery of Christ’s presence in their life became known to them as Christ blessed and broke the bread.
The picture included in your bulletin captures that moment. It is an early 17th century painting by the Italian artist Caravaggio: “The Supper at Emmaus”.
Andrew Graham-Dixon, a noted art historian, describes it best: “Jesus reveals his identity with a gesture of gentle benediction. In the act of blessing…the loaves of bread, he affirms that he has indeed risen from the dead and affirms his own bodily presence in the Eucharist.” The only figure standing is a servant who has no idea of the significance of the act he is witnessing. Could Caravaggio be speaking to us?
In it we see Christ’s hands reaching out to bless the bread, and the two disciples—one with arms out-stretched and both leaning towards Christ as they apparently recognize and acknowledge not just Christ’s presence at their table, but that he had walked with them in the midst of their fear, doubt, shattered dreams, and lost hope.
Finally, I would like to return to Caravaggio’s painting for a moment and ask you to turn your attention to the disciple to Christ’s left – the one with outstretched arms. On his vest, is a sea shell – the symbol of a pilgrim.
We are all pilgrims, and we travel sometimes alone and sometimes together. We walk with those of little or no belief; with those whose doubts have led to despair; with those whose lives seem broken or shattered by loss or grief; and with those who deny the mystery of faith as none of it can be proven to their satisfaction. We walk with those satisfied with their lives, feel no regard for the presence of the Holy Spirit.
But Christ through the Holy Spirit is always there and walks with each of us on our journey.
We do not just meet Christ in the Eucharist. Just as the two disciples, we often do not recognize the enduring presence of the Holy Spirit throughout our lives, and yet it is only in our willingness to look back that we are able to recognize his presence and guidance in our life.
“Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him; and he vanished from their sight”. And they said, ”Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road…”
Christ through the Holy Spirit may be nudging us today. We just have to reflect—as I have been reminded of and puzzled by the event when I was 14 years old. What was the Holy Spirit trying to say to me then, and what might the Holy Spirit be saying to me and us today?
Perhaps it is this. We do not walk alone. It is through the gift of the Holy Spirit, that Christ is always with us.
Amen.