6th April 2008EASTER III

Fr Julian Browning

Acts  2  :  14a  &  36 – 41 ;   I  Peter  1  :  17 – 23 ;  Luke 24 : .32 

Did not our hearts burn within us..?    Luke 24.32

God reveals himself; we don't have to go through a lifetime of intellectual agony to find him.

A burning heart, the sign of love trying to happen, is the beginning of our Christian journey. It is the sign that God has entered our lives again, has come close to us as he walked with the two disciples to Emmaus, even though we don't recognise him and are still confused. This exquisite story of the two dicsiples on the road to Emmaus tells us all we need to know about God and us. The confusion we all feel at some times, maybe all the time, about God and Jesus and religion, is only dispelled when we invite the stranger to stay with us. In the breaking of the bread the disciples knew who the Risen Jesus is. They didn't get it before, even after seven miles of conversation. The sharing of the meal connected them to the living presence of the Lord. Their eyes were opened. The only way we can 'get' what religion is about, is by finding our way through the story. The symbols there, the journey, the conversation, the meal, are signposts to the truth. Philosophical concepts and arguments for and against God can be absorbing, but they are little use to those of us who find our hearts burning within us, touched by God, not powered up by ourselves. The simple symbols of the Gospels will answer our questions. We see who Jesus is in the breaking of bread, an act of hospitality, peace, brotherhood and sisterhood.

What I like about the Emmaus story is that Easter had happened, Jesus had risen, but these two guys still didn't get it, because that's so like us, on our journey, our one life, our only chance to comprehend this truth, and the years pass by, and we're still walking, talking, puzzling, scratching our heads. Is it true? Everyone else is shouting Christ is risen, their lives have been changed by this. Has the Resurrection made any difference to your life, at all?

To get to Emmaus, to see the Risen Lord, we are going to have to make a few changes here and in our lives. I have never advocated change of any kind. I do not mean change of outward forms. I do not mean windowdressing. And I'm not sure we change much during our lives anyway – the occasional brave stab at being good – a few adjustments made for the benefit of others - every seven years a feeble doomed struggle to escape the straitjacket of convention -  but we are who we are and that's that, and we might as well get used to ourselves. God doesn't ask us to change before he walks with us. What I am preaching about is a new way of looking at the life we already have.

I learnt a new word for a staff meeting the other day. I was in the reception area of the Bayswater swimming baths, and the girl receptionist announced “Calling all staff members, calling all staff members, there will be a huddle in the hall at three. Huddletime at three.” Same thing, different experience.

Our life is to be an Easter life. The change is from blindness to sight, to the opening of our eyes, as the Gospel says. The change is from disbelief to a confession of faith, and this change can happen to you and to me. The faith bit is inviting the stranger into our lives, not knowing who he is, in other words trusting him. God does the rest. God feeds us with his life. God reveals himself; we don't have to go through a lifetime of intellectual agony to find him. We're programmed to do just that, that's our problem, comparing sources, hedging bets. That's why this change I'm talking about is such a radical step for us, as foreign to our usual experience as an empty tomb. But it's something we can all do. We can all invite Jesus to stay and join us. What happens then would be unbelievable had we not had some inkling of it when our hearts burned within us on the road. Easter life means Easter joy: a deep gratitude to God for all he has done, the promises he has kept, the way he accompanies us on our journey whether we recognise him or not, the way he feeds us with his life. It's like being born again, as Peter says in his epistle today, through the living and abiding word of God. Our burning hearts become fires which release new energy. Jeremiah 23: Is not my word like fire, says the Lord, and like a hammer which breaks the rock in pieces? That new energy, that Easter life, began the Church. Easter life, expressed in the breaking of bread as at Emmaus, sustains this church today. Easter life is ours for the asking. Jesus is travelling with his church on its journey, revealing who God is and what God can do, to all whose hearts burn within them.