Hidden In Easter
Sermon
The Christ Who Is Hidden
Sermons For The Lord's Supper
To me this is the most beautiful passage in all the Bible, yet it is shrouded in mystery. The resurrected Christ is present, but he is not recognized. In Luke's words, the Bible says, 'When he was at the table with them, he took the bread and blessed, and broke it, and gave it to them. And their eyes were opened and they recognized him; and he vanished out of sight (vss. 30-31).'
But it was in the breaking of the bread that he is known and then he vanishes. This story is saturated with the unknown. That, I think, is why it fascinates me each time I read it. The event itself cannot be explained.
This same mysterious event was experienced by Mary Magdalene in the garden near the tomb on Easter morning. She went to the empty tomb and the body of Jesus was gone. She wondered to herself whether someone had taken Jesus' body and hidden it. Suddenly, she was confronted by a man whom she supposed was the gardener. Jesus was the man she was kept from recognizing. Jesus spoke her name -- 'Mary.' In that instant she knew this man was Jesus. She was allowed to recognize him.
This same mysterious event occurred in the life of Thomas, one of the disciples. If you recall the story, Jesus had already appeared to the other disciples in the upper room, as they hid from the Jews, fearing for their lives. But Thomas had not been present. We do not know where he was, nor why he was not with the other disciples during this time of despair.
When Thomas was told by the other disciples what had occurred in the upper room, behind locked doors, how Jesus had suddenly appeared in their midst, offering to them his peace, Thomas responded, 'Unless I see in his hands the print of the nails, and place my hand in his side, I will not believe (John 20:25).' Thus, Thomas became the doubter.
Later, some eight days, Thomas was with the other disciples in the upper room with the doors locked shut. To Thomas' surprise, Jesus appeared among them, saying, 'Peace be with you.' Then, speaking directly to Thomas, Jesus said, 'Put your finger here, and see my hands; and put out your hand, and place it in my side; do not be faithless, but believing.' It is worth noting that Thomas did not touch Jesus, just the experience of Jesus was enough. The response that came from Thomas' lips was faith -- 'My Lord and my God (See: John 20:26-29)!'
It is our Scripture lesson that brings this mystery to us again. The Scripture tells about two disciples who were going from Jerusalem to Emmaus. We know very little about these two disciples. We are told that one of these disciples is named 'Cleopas.' We do not know why they are going to Emmaus. The Bible simply states that they are talking over the events of the last several days. Unexpectantly, 'Jesus himself drew near and went with them (vs. 15).'
Of course, it is here that some of the mystery of the event comes into play. Somehow the two are kept from knowing that the man who has joined them is Jesus. He enters into their conversation about the occurrences of the last several days. As they continue on their way to Emmaus, Jesus shares with them from the Scripture, opening up and making clear those passages concerning himself.
In Emmaus, sitting around a table, Jesus -- still unknown to them -- takes the bread, blesses it, and gives it to them. They recognize Jesus, and he abruptly disappears.
This incident brings to mind many questions for us. Does Jesus appear to us today? Is there any evidence of the presence of Jesus in our lives? Where is Jesus most real in our lives? Are there moments in our lives when we are forced to ask, 'Is that you, Jesus?'
How do we know when this Jesus comes to us? Will the sky open up or will we be knocked down blind like Paul? Will we hear voices? Can it be that we miss Jesus when he comes, simply because we are not expecting him where we are?
Dr. Robert Raines wrote a book titled To Kiss the Joy. In a chapter titled 'He Appeared also unto Me,' he tells about walking into the prayer chapel in the church he was serving on a Friday evening. As he ambled into the chapel, he was surprised to observe a young man walking along with him. The young man spoke first. 'I am so glad to see you here; I have wanted to talk to you.' Then the young man continued, 'How can I know Jesus? How can I find Jesus Christ? I've looked for him, but I don't know where to find him. Did you have a mystical experience?'
Raines thought for a moment on these questions. Finally he answered, 'I most often find Jesus in other people, in places I don't expect to see him.' After sharing a few other ideas about his faith and relationship with Christ Jesus, Raines left.
The next morning, as Raines approached the chapel, the very same young man, who evidently had stayed in the chapel all night, was coming out of the chapel. As he passed, he handed Raines a note which read: 'Jesus, I don't know you. At least not by name. But I think I saw you in the spring time rain.'
Raines says that that morning Jesus appeared to him in the face and faith of the young man in the chapel. It was one of those experiences in life which cause us to ask 'Is that you, Jesus?'
A couple of years ago, I became very ill and went into a hospital in a nearby city. I stayed in the hospital for several weeks. During this stay, my birthday came around. I did not say anything to anyone about it. I really wanted to feel sorry for myself as long as I could. I knew that my family would be coming during visiting hours, and we would celebrate my birthday together. Even that did not cheer me up. I was going to feel sorry for myself, and no one was going to stop me. Life had, I thought, treated me really mean. I had, I thought, earned the right to feel sorry for myself. And no one was going to cheat me of it.
But something happened that I did not plan on. My family came during the appointed visiting hours, and along with them came a minister friend and six members of my congregation. All of a sudden, my sadness left and I had no time to feel sorry for myself. My family brought cards, a cake baked especially for me by a good friend, but no wrapped gifts. (My wife had given me a new wedding band as a birthday gift before I went into the hospital.)
Yet there was a greater gift given to me that afternoon. Those who came, came because they cared and loved me. I was loved! I wanted to cry, but I held back my tears. As each person left, I embraced and held each as long as I could. It was the only response I knew to give to the gift they had given me. What can one say, when he or she is given the great gifts of unconditional love? For me, that afternoon was one of life's little experiences which causes me to wonder, 'Is that you, Jesus?'
'Is that you, Jesus?' we question. A small boy lost both of his parents in a tragic accident. An uncle was taking him to stay with other relatives. As they drove along, the uncle noticed that the boy would put his hand in his coat pocket for a while and then take it out. Over and over, as they rode along, he put his hand in his coat pocket. Finally, the uncle questioned him about it. 'I kept a little piece of my mother's dress,' said the boy, 'and every time I touch it, she seems very near.'
As we take these elements of bread and wine, we 'experience the Lord Jesus Christ anew,' to quote our communion ritual. At this altar, Easter happens, in that, Jesus appears also unto us. If, as we come, we make this discovery, then we receive one of life's greater gifts -- an 'Is that you, Jesus?' experience.
But it was in the breaking of the bread that he is known and then he vanishes. This story is saturated with the unknown. That, I think, is why it fascinates me each time I read it. The event itself cannot be explained.
This same mysterious event was experienced by Mary Magdalene in the garden near the tomb on Easter morning. She went to the empty tomb and the body of Jesus was gone. She wondered to herself whether someone had taken Jesus' body and hidden it. Suddenly, she was confronted by a man whom she supposed was the gardener. Jesus was the man she was kept from recognizing. Jesus spoke her name -- 'Mary.' In that instant she knew this man was Jesus. She was allowed to recognize him.
This same mysterious event occurred in the life of Thomas, one of the disciples. If you recall the story, Jesus had already appeared to the other disciples in the upper room, as they hid from the Jews, fearing for their lives. But Thomas had not been present. We do not know where he was, nor why he was not with the other disciples during this time of despair.
When Thomas was told by the other disciples what had occurred in the upper room, behind locked doors, how Jesus had suddenly appeared in their midst, offering to them his peace, Thomas responded, 'Unless I see in his hands the print of the nails, and place my hand in his side, I will not believe (John 20:25).' Thus, Thomas became the doubter.
Later, some eight days, Thomas was with the other disciples in the upper room with the doors locked shut. To Thomas' surprise, Jesus appeared among them, saying, 'Peace be with you.' Then, speaking directly to Thomas, Jesus said, 'Put your finger here, and see my hands; and put out your hand, and place it in my side; do not be faithless, but believing.' It is worth noting that Thomas did not touch Jesus, just the experience of Jesus was enough. The response that came from Thomas' lips was faith -- 'My Lord and my God (See: John 20:26-29)!'
It is our Scripture lesson that brings this mystery to us again. The Scripture tells about two disciples who were going from Jerusalem to Emmaus. We know very little about these two disciples. We are told that one of these disciples is named 'Cleopas.' We do not know why they are going to Emmaus. The Bible simply states that they are talking over the events of the last several days. Unexpectantly, 'Jesus himself drew near and went with them (vs. 15).'
Of course, it is here that some of the mystery of the event comes into play. Somehow the two are kept from knowing that the man who has joined them is Jesus. He enters into their conversation about the occurrences of the last several days. As they continue on their way to Emmaus, Jesus shares with them from the Scripture, opening up and making clear those passages concerning himself.
In Emmaus, sitting around a table, Jesus -- still unknown to them -- takes the bread, blesses it, and gives it to them. They recognize Jesus, and he abruptly disappears.
This incident brings to mind many questions for us. Does Jesus appear to us today? Is there any evidence of the presence of Jesus in our lives? Where is Jesus most real in our lives? Are there moments in our lives when we are forced to ask, 'Is that you, Jesus?'
How do we know when this Jesus comes to us? Will the sky open up or will we be knocked down blind like Paul? Will we hear voices? Can it be that we miss Jesus when he comes, simply because we are not expecting him where we are?
Dr. Robert Raines wrote a book titled To Kiss the Joy. In a chapter titled 'He Appeared also unto Me,' he tells about walking into the prayer chapel in the church he was serving on a Friday evening. As he ambled into the chapel, he was surprised to observe a young man walking along with him. The young man spoke first. 'I am so glad to see you here; I have wanted to talk to you.' Then the young man continued, 'How can I know Jesus? How can I find Jesus Christ? I've looked for him, but I don't know where to find him. Did you have a mystical experience?'
Raines thought for a moment on these questions. Finally he answered, 'I most often find Jesus in other people, in places I don't expect to see him.' After sharing a few other ideas about his faith and relationship with Christ Jesus, Raines left.
The next morning, as Raines approached the chapel, the very same young man, who evidently had stayed in the chapel all night, was coming out of the chapel. As he passed, he handed Raines a note which read: 'Jesus, I don't know you. At least not by name. But I think I saw you in the spring time rain.'
Raines says that that morning Jesus appeared to him in the face and faith of the young man in the chapel. It was one of those experiences in life which cause us to ask 'Is that you, Jesus?'
A couple of years ago, I became very ill and went into a hospital in a nearby city. I stayed in the hospital for several weeks. During this stay, my birthday came around. I did not say anything to anyone about it. I really wanted to feel sorry for myself as long as I could. I knew that my family would be coming during visiting hours, and we would celebrate my birthday together. Even that did not cheer me up. I was going to feel sorry for myself, and no one was going to stop me. Life had, I thought, treated me really mean. I had, I thought, earned the right to feel sorry for myself. And no one was going to cheat me of it.
But something happened that I did not plan on. My family came during the appointed visiting hours, and along with them came a minister friend and six members of my congregation. All of a sudden, my sadness left and I had no time to feel sorry for myself. My family brought cards, a cake baked especially for me by a good friend, but no wrapped gifts. (My wife had given me a new wedding band as a birthday gift before I went into the hospital.)
Yet there was a greater gift given to me that afternoon. Those who came, came because they cared and loved me. I was loved! I wanted to cry, but I held back my tears. As each person left, I embraced and held each as long as I could. It was the only response I knew to give to the gift they had given me. What can one say, when he or she is given the great gifts of unconditional love? For me, that afternoon was one of life's little experiences which causes me to wonder, 'Is that you, Jesus?'
'Is that you, Jesus?' we question. A small boy lost both of his parents in a tragic accident. An uncle was taking him to stay with other relatives. As they drove along, the uncle noticed that the boy would put his hand in his coat pocket for a while and then take it out. Over and over, as they rode along, he put his hand in his coat pocket. Finally, the uncle questioned him about it. 'I kept a little piece of my mother's dress,' said the boy, 'and every time I touch it, she seems very near.'
As we take these elements of bread and wine, we 'experience the Lord Jesus Christ anew,' to quote our communion ritual. At this altar, Easter happens, in that, Jesus appears also unto us. If, as we come, we make this discovery, then we receive one of life's greater gifts -- an 'Is that you, Jesus?' experience.
