Third Sunday of Easter April 19, 2026

Prayer of the Day
O God, your Son makes himself known to all his disciples in the breaking of bread. Open the eyes of our faith, that we may see him in his redeeming work, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen.

Gospel: Luke 24:13-35
13 Now on that same day two [disciples] were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem, 14 and talking with each other about all these things that had happened. 15 While they were talking and discussing, Jesus himself came near and went with them, 16 but their eyes were kept from recognizing him. 17 And he said to them, “What are you discussing with each other while you walk along?” They stood still, looking sad. 18 Then one of them, whose name was Cleopas, answered him, “Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have taken place there in these days?” 19 He asked them, “What things?” They replied, “The things about Jesus of Nazareth, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, 20 and how our chief priests and leaders handed him over to be condemned to death and crucified him. 21 But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel. Yes, and besides all this, it is now the third day since these things took place. 22 Moreover, some women of our group astounded us. They were at the tomb early this morning, 23 and when they did not find his body there they came back and told us that they had indeed seen a vision of angels who said that he was alive. 24 Some of those who were with us went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said, but they did not see him.” 25 Then he said to them, “Oh, how foolish you are and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have declared! 26 Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into his glory?” 27 Then beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them the things about himself in all the scriptures.
28 As they came near the village to which they were going, he walked ahead as if he were going on. 29 But they urged him strongly, saying, “Stay with us, because it is almost evening and the day is now nearly over.” So he went in to stay with them. 30 When he was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. 31 Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him, and he vanished from their sight. 32 They said to each other, “Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?” 33 That same hour they got up and returned to Jerusalem, and they found the eleven and their companions gathered together. 34 They were saying, “The Lord has risen indeed, and he has appeared to Simon!” 35 Then they told what had happened on the road and how he had been made known to them in the breaking of the bread.

SERMON
When monks at a monastery I visited a couple of times would see a guest or a stranger approaching, someone would kick off an inside joke muttering, “Oh, Jesus…it’s you.” Sometimes a little humour names the risk of opening yourself to the unknown. Sometimes a little humour reminds us to anticipate the surprising ways Jesus makes himself known to us now.

Faith communities inherit a tradition of welcoming the stranger that goes back at least to Abram and Sarai when they welcomed two messengers. Sometimes hospitality is risky because it can upend your life. Just ask Abraham and Sarah who become parents years after they started collecting their pensions. Just ask Cleopas and another Jesus-follower, not named in Luke’s Gospel.

Cleopas and his companion walk home, unsure how they’ll put their lives together now that their teacher is gone. A stranger engages them asking, “what’s happening”? The disciples’ automatically assume this fellow traveller is the only stranger in these parts. Evidently he hasn’t heard about the collusion between the empire and some religious leaders that brought about the public execution of Jesus. Has this person from another place heard that any hopes for God’s redeeming died with Jesus?

The stranger doesn’t argue— he does provide perspective by outlining the continuity recent events have with this Jesus person—going back to the liberation from Egypt, the giving of the law and the witness of the prophets. One just hopes that along the long walk, Roman sympathizers or officials aren’t overhearing what Jesus is telling them.

Seven miles of subversive talk later, the trio arrives at Emmaus. At first it looks like the trio will part company there. However it’s getting dark, making travel much riskier with predators both two and four legged emerging with nightfall. Cleopas and the other disciple take the risk of persuading this stranger, to stay with them and share a meal. Their master, Jesus would have done as much.

They recline at table, which is partly why hospitality is so remarkable; it’s intimate as people eat together in close quarters. Then things get weird. The stranger who becomes the host—he takes bread, blesses it and breaks it.

This was no stranger—maybe they recognized how Jesus often shared bread with all sorts of people. You might know that the word companion comes from the latin and literally means to share bread with another. Luke’s Gospel presents sharing of meals as central to Jesus’ ministry and identity. A professor of ours liked to say that the reason it takes Jesus and the disciples so long to get to Jerusalem was because they were always stopping to eat! Those stops were not pauses. Those stops were the living out of Jesus’ radical hospitality. Those embody God’s love to all in the here and now—or as Luke puts it often, “today”.

Did Cleopas and the other Jesus follower even eat the bread Jesus broke and blessed before dashing out at night to leg it another seven back to Jerusalem?

Some would say that Cleopas and the unnamed disciple are a microcosm of the church—We struggle when hope is dashed…we ask hard questions….we seek perspective and continuity to our tradition and the witness of the faithful who have gone before us. We welcome the stranger. We share bread. And in rare moments of clarity we might say, “Jesus, was that you just now?”