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Practice Resurrection                        Luke 24: 13-35                   April 6, 2008

The title of my sermon this morning, "Practice Resurrection," is taken from the last line of a poem by Wendell Berry. The poem, entitled Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front, includes some worthwhile suggestions for this third Sunday of the Eastertide season.

Before we get to the poem, though, and speaking of seasons, let's be reminded that we Moravians, along with the rest of the mainline Christian churches around the world, divide the year into segments, or seasons, each of which is an opportunity to focus our thinking - and our worship - on important events in the life of Christ. We create and observe these annual Sacred Seasons because we want to make the most of the holy days that punctuate each year's calendar.

Obviously, the two big days in our year are Christmas and Easter. And similarly, the two biggest seasons, Advent and Lent, are the ones that lead up to those two "super holidays."

It's good that these two seasons of the year mean so much to so many people. I'm glad to see the church full to overflowing at Christmas and Easter. But - you knew there was going to be a "but," didn't you? - but, it is the seasons that immediately follow the big days - the seasons where finding a seat is never a problem - that are really the most important times for we Christians who truly want to live the life that Christ calls us to live.

Christmas, you see, is a day in the life of Jesus. It is about something that happened to him. And Easter, again, is also such a day. A day - the most important day of all, for sure, but still a day - in Jesus' life. These holy days are, appropriately, focused on him. They are vertical expressions of our faith - the faith that is between each one of us, the God who made us and the Christ who saved us.

For those of us who want to take our Christian life seriously, though, those days - and the seasons leading up to them - are wonderful and emotional and uplifting and spiritually satisfying, but - there's that "but," again - but as great as they are, they aren't enough. We also need to focus on the horizontal element of our faith. We need to focus on the difficult "so what does all of that mean for the way I live my life every other day of the year?" questions.

And there is no better time to do that, I think, than right now. In this season of Eastertide.

You see, just as the period after Christmas, when the rest of the world is done with Santa Claus and all the cultural trappings of that holiday, may be the best time for us to reflect on what it means to live as Christians in light of the incarnation story, so this post-Easter season, Eastertide, may be the best time for us to reflect on what it means to live with the knowledge of the resurrected Lord fresh in our minds. To reflect on what it means, in brief, to "practice resurrection."

Which brings me back to Wendell Berry's poem. Berry is not a theologian or a preacher. He is, in fact, a poet, a novelist, an English professor, an environmentalist and a farmer. He does, however, reflect the spirit of Jesus - particularly in this poem. In fact, you could easily imagine Jesus writing these words:

"So, friends, every day do something
that won't compute. Love the Lord.
Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.
Denounce the government and embrace
the flag. Hope to live in that free
republic for which it stands.
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand.
Expect the end of the world. Laugh.
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
Though you have considered all the facts.
Practice resurrection."

Berry really gets it, I think. Practicing resurrection needs to be what we do, as a church. It needs to be on our minds every day as we live out our Christian lives. And practicing resurrection means doing outlandish, irrational things. It means, in Berry's words, doing things that "do not compute."

You and I practice resurrection when we feed someone who is hungry. We practice resurrection when we visit someone who is sick. We practice resurrection when we listen to someone who is troubled and depressed. We practice resurrection when we extend hospitality to someone who needs it.

And, most profoundly of all - if our Gospel lesson for this morning is to be understood and applied - you and I practice resurrection whenever we see the face of God in another human being.

In our text, Cleopas and his unnamed companion are walking toward a village called Emmaus when Jesus appears.

Cleopas and an unnamed companion? Who in the world are these men? No one knows. These are two completely unremarkable men - evidently part of Jesus' group of followers, but not part of his closest group of companions - that have an encounter with the risen Lord on their way to Emmaus - which is also a place of no particular importance. Neither the men nor the place they were visiting are named anywhere else in the scriptures.

Jesus appears to a couple of nobodies on a road to nowhere in particular. And that is precisely the point.

The fact that Jesus chooses to reveal himself to no one in particular and that Luke chooses to record this appearance in the way that he does lets it be known, beyond any doubt, that Jesus is a Savior that shows up in the most unlikely places and in the most un-remarkable circumstances.

And that he shows up, in particular, when an act of kindness is offered to a stranger.

Remember, Cleopas and his companion had no idea that the man they were walking beside and talking with was Jesus. It is not until after they have invited him into their home and after they have broken bread together that they finally see that this stranger is in fact their Lord.

And once they recognize him, they go to Jerusalem, find the eleven Disciples, and tell them "The women were right. He is alive after all. He was made known to us in the breaking of bread."

I believe Luke shared this story of Jesus and Cleopas and the other man on the road to Emmaus because he wanted his readers to see how the risen Lord could be encountered. He wanted them - and us - to know that this is what it means to practice resurrection.

Gary Smith, the Senior Minister of First Parish in Concord, Massachusetts, told a story in a recent sermon - a story whose origin, he says, is unknown:

"Once there was a monastery that had fallen upon hard times. Some of the younger monks had left in dissatisfaction, and no new men were joining. There were but a handful of monks and their leader, the Abbot, remaining. They began fighting among themselves, each blaming the hard times on the faults and failings of the other.

One day a traveling rabbi stopped at the monastery for a night's rest. He ate, and prayed alongside the other monks. The next day, as the rabbi prepared to continue on his journey, the Abbot drew him aside. He told him of the problems of the monastery and asked him for his observations and for some advice to share with the other monks.

The rabbi was quiet for some time. "Your monks will not listen to my advice," the rabbi replied, "but perhaps they would benefit from an observation. The Messiah dwells among you here at the monastery."

"One of us?" asked the Abbot, astonished. "Which one?"

"Oh, that I cannot say," the rabbi answered. "Share this with your brothers, and in time it shall be revealed to you."

The Abbot thanked him and sent him on his way. He gathered the monks together and shared the news. "One of us is the Messiah? But who?" they all asked. "It couldn't be Brother Robert - or could it? Surely not Brother Henry, but there are times when. . . Not the youngest, well, maybe. . . the Abbot himself? Could it be me?"

Slowly things began to change at the monastery as each began to see the Messiah in the other and to hear the Messiah's words in each word spoken. Soon people began to wander back to the monastery, and in time new men joined and the monastery thrived."

My friends, allow me to paraphrase the words of that wise rabbi: "Jesus, the Messiah, the risen Lord, dwells among us here at First Moravian Church. He lives in Burlington County, New Jersey. Our task, as members of this body we call the church, is to look for him. To see him in one another and hear his words in each word we speak and hear."

God wants to have a relationship with us. Of that there is no doubt. Not for a moment. That truth is repeated over and over again in the Biblical narratives. We simply must decide if we want to accept the terms of God's relationship.

We can choose, for example, to be isolated. We can ride around in our cars, we can put up fences, and we can lock our doors and stay inside. We can go it alone. And if that is our choice, then Jesus will never be a part of our life.

Or, we can practice resurrection. We can do things that don't compute. We can love someone who does not deserve it. We can act as if the person next to us in the pew this morning, or the person next to us in line at the supermarket or the post office, or the person who shows up at the food pantry every month, or the child walking home from school with a backpack weighing her down; we can act as if any one of those persons might just be the risen Lord.

Practice resurrection, brothers and sisters. Practice resurrection. In the end, it is what living the Christian life is all about.

Now I don't know about you, but I sometimes need a reminder to help me keep things in proper perspective. The insert in your bulletin is for you to take home and put on your refrigerator, or tape to your mirror, or put wherever you will see it every day. Hopefully, it will help remind each of us to be Christians who practice resurrection, not just in Eastertide, but every day of the year.

Oh, and when someone asks you where you worship, and then, when you respond, that person inevitably says, "Moravian, what's that?" Be sure you answer, from now on, that Moravians, more than anything else, are Christians who practice resurrection.

Fortunately, as we practice something, over time it goes from being strange and uncomfortable to being natural and enjoyable. In fact, the time comes when it no longer even seems like work, but is full of joy. May it be so with us as we practice resurrection.

                                                                             AMEN

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