Risen Christ, you filled your disciples with boldness and fresh hope: strengthen us to proclaim your risen life and fill us with your peace, to the glory of God the Father. Amen.

Isn’t it amazing how, even when we are going in the wrong direction, God comes alongside us? To be what we need…..to meet us on the road…..

On the Sundays in Easter, we hear the accounts of Jesus appearing to his friends after the resurrection. And each time, what happens is so real, so human. It is precisely what gives it all such credibility – they are not beautifully told stories, dressed up to maximise the magic, heighten the heroism or glorify those involved. Quite the reverse – no-one comes out of them looking their best –

On Easter morning, Mary Magdalene, in such an excess of grief, cannot keep away from the place of death; Peter, typically, is quick to dismiss her garbled account of “I have seen the Lord” as ‘madness’, but has to rush off to see for himself. Peter, who boldly claimed he would willingly die for Jesus, but then denied even knowing him, abandoned him to save his own skin. And last week, Thomas, so full of doubts, who could not believe that Jesus was alive, unless he saw it for himself, with his own eyes.

And now today – two disciples of Jesus, part of that larger group of followers, who have come so far with him, shared that last supper, been there in Jerusalem in all the ferment of the arrest, the fake trial, the torture, the crucifixion, the terrible night and day of shock and grief that followed, they even heard the women talk of the empty tomb first thing on the Sunday, yet here they are now, running away, going in the wrong direction.

It may be that these two disciples, Cleopas, and an unnamed disciple, were actually husband and wife.

When they get to Emmaus, a village some 7 miles from Jerusalem, they invite Jesus to join them in what is clearly their joint home. But perhaps more tellingly, as they walk along, they are not just discussing what has been happening, but having at the least a very heated debate, quite possibly a huge row.

Whoever they are, it may be that one wanted to leave, while the other didn’t, perhaps one was more fearful of being arrested and even killed, and the other wanting to stay and hold fast to the cause.

But isn’t this all so real? So human? Isn’t this precisely what we might have done in those circumstances? And how often it is that we argue about what we should do with those we are closest to?

And in of these accounts, in all their humanness, in all the flaws and weaknesses, look how Jesus comes close in just the way that each person needed…..speaking Mary’s name with tender love, appearing to Peter, his eyes full of forgiveness, standing before Thomas, hands held out, bearing the marks of the nails, and now, coming alongside the two disciples on the road, walking with them, listening to them, asking them their story, and then telling them his. They didn’t at that moment recognize him as the One that he was describing – spoken of by the prophets and whose death would be inevitable as the only way to save God’s people, but as their hearts burned within them, even without knowing why, their whole beings were resonating to the deep truth of his words.

That whole road to Emmaus, that running away, that walk to freedom, was a whole lifetime of discovery, a journey into eternity, a pilgrimage of faith, the path to life.

At the beginning of that road, they are two former disciples, terrified and full of despair, fleeing for their lives and abandoning their friends, but at the end, filled with amazement and joy, they turn and run as fast as they can back into the place of danger, to share the news of their risen Lord.

For around the table, as the stranger had lifted and broken the bread, they had awoken to electrifying recognition that in an instant had changed everything.

There was still fear, there was still loss and change, there was still the very real risk to their lives, but now there was hope, now there was new life, now all that Jesus had ever told them was making sense, coming true, changing their understanding of the way the world needed to be! Now there were no limits, no barriers, nothing that could stop them – for if Jesus was alive, then death was dead.

The road to Emmaus, is not just that road, it is not just those dusty seven miles, it is the pilgrimage that every one of us takes, the journey of a lifetime, that lasts all our lives, for we cannot yet know it all, see so clearly beyond those moments of startling illumination, but we know that same thrilling to the presence of Jesus, to the truth of his words, to that deep tug in our hearts that compels us, that sometimes we struggle to run away from, yet draws us back to the place where life is, even in the midst of death.

This road is the one that Jesus still walks, alongside each of us, alongside us when we are afraid, when we run away in fear, or turn away in anger, alongside us when we are full of doubt and lost in confusion,

Jesus comes close and walks with us when we are full of grief, terrified of dying and speaks of life, new life and wondrous things that we can hardly believe.

This Easter, can we recognize Jesus alongside us, in all the places of most desperate need? Will our hearts burn within us as he opens our minds and enlarges our understanding beyond reason? Will we know him in the breaking of the bread, not just here in church in the sacrament, but in every meal we eat, in the sharing of food and friendship with those most in need, in the ordinary stuff of life and death all around? Will we allow his extraordinary love and power to flow through us and into his world?

The Lord has risen indeed – may we meet him in the breaking of the bread and on the road of life. Amen.

Service: Reverend Michelle Dalliston. 23rd April 2023. (St John The Baptist Church Peterborough UK)

Readings: Acts 2:14a, 36-41, 1 Peter 1:17-23, Luke 24:13-35