"One Sunday Morning In Jerusalem”

In Jesus Holy Name Easter III 2020

Text: Luke 24:32 Redeemer

“One Sunday Morning in Jerusalem”

He is Risen! He has risen indeed!

We have gathered this Sunday to hear the “rest of the story.” For years the great newsman and philosopher Paul Harvey told his listeners “The Rest of the Story”. His radio program began by telling some story which most people found to be familiar or fascinating. Then, when the story was almost complete, he shared more. Mr. Harvey would then supply a little known fact, which became “the Rest of the Story.”

We are curious people. We love stories. Whenever, two fishermen get together…there is always “The rest of the story”. When we all return from “Sheltering In”, I’m sure we will be interested in “the rest of the story”. What did you do? Tell me “the rest of your story.”

Not once, not twice, but three times Jesus told his disciples: “We are going to Jerusalem. I will be arrested. They are going to put me on trial. I am going to die on the cross.” Each time Jesus added: “and on the third day I’m going to rise from the dead.”

It is this last part which should have caught their attention. Now you and I both know everybody dies; but hardly nobody ever rises from the dead. Rising from the dead is pretty special. I’ve done hundreds of funerals, but none of them have ever risen from the dead… at least not yet. That’s why the disciples should have remembered the times Jesus had said He was going to rise on the third day, but they didn’t. That is why on the Sunday after the Crucifixion they were shocked that the tomb of Jesus was empty.

When Colleen and I were growing up in the Mid West our families would always visit the church cemetery in the late spring. We’d place flowers on the graves of our parents, grand parents. And remember. We’d remember “stories”.

The longest walk you will ever take is the walk away from the grave of someone

you love. If you have never done that, you can’t imagine how difficult it is.

On the eve of Good Friday, it was a painful walk back to their home in Jerusalem for the women who had followed Nicodemus and Joseph to the burial site of Jesus.

• To walk away and feel as if the world has come to an end.

• To walk away and think about what used to be and what might have been.

• To walk away and realize, “I’ll never be the same again.”

• To play over and over in your mind the good times, the laughter, the crazy stories.

• To reach out and touch a face and find it gone forever.

• To cry until you can’t cry anymore.

• To watch your dreams and hopes and all that was good about life, buried.

• To know it is over, done, finished, the end, and there is nothing you can do about it.

It is the longest walk and the saddest day. Every step takes you away from the tombstone of a broken dream. In our Gospel reading these were the feelings of the husband and wife walking to their home in Emmaus after the death of Jesus.

They were disillusioned. The dejected pair were on their seven mile walk home. It was over. They knew life would never be the same. They watched their dreams, their hope for a new Israel with the famous prophet Jesus destroyed, when the great stone sealed His grave.

When they talked about Jesus, their words come slowly. Their faces carried the sadness of grief and loss. Eyes down cast. Shoulders carried the weight of lost hope. “I can hardly believe it. He’s gone.” “What do we do now?”

Everything they said was in the past tense. This is how we normally speak of the dead. They still loved him. They still believed in him as best they could. They clung to every cherished memory. The third day was almost gone and Jesus was nowhere to be found. Bring down the curtain, it’s all over now.

This is what Good Friday looks like without Easter. Without the resurrection,

the cross is nothing but a tragedy, a story without a moral, a drama that ends before the final act. All their dreams for what could have been. Gone.

Remember, they did not know “the rest of the story”. It had not yet been written. A few more steps and they would be home. Just then a stranger comes up behind them and says, “I’m sorry, but I could not help over hearing you. What things are you talking about?” (God Came near M. Lucado p. 87)

“Are you new to Jerusalem? You haven’t heard?” “Heard what?”, the visitor asked. “About Jesus of Nazareth?”