Easter 3B—2006 Acts 4:5-12, Psalm 98, 1 John 1:1—2:2, Luke 24: 36b-48 The Rev. J. Brian Ponder Church of the Resurrection Starkville, Mississippi April 30, 2006 In the Name of God: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen. Can you imagine the restlessness that was theirs?  Can you imagine just what was going through their minds? … Can it be true? … Could it all really be true? Our Gospel lesson today sounds a lot like last week’s reading, doesn’t it? The disciples are gathered together. They’ve been hearing stories about the resurrected Jesus. They’re on edge, and then … before they know it, Jesus is with them.  And it shakes them.  … He offers them “Peace” but it’s not a comforting one … Rather, it’s a peacefulness that strikes a nerve, it rattles their cages … it makes them wonder just what’s going on in the moment and for the future … what it all means … whether it can all really be true. In fact, there’s an anxiousness to this whole story.  There’s an element underlying the whole scene that creates a buzz, a stir. … The disciples are keyed up, they’re stirred up, and Jesus—perhaps more so than not—is here to mix things up a little bit more. We move from last week’s account in John to one this week from Luke, a scene that immediately follows the Emmaus roadway encounter and Jesus’ sharing of a meal with Cleopas and another disciple in Emmaus.  Having seen with their own eyes, their eyes having been opened to the reality of Jesus’ presence with them within the context of the sharing of the meal, Jesus then vanishes; and Cleopas and his companion return straightway to be with other disciples … to tell the story, to relay the events of the day, to make real for them what they have encountered—the risen Christ. … And still, this is only the first day of the week … the day of Resurrection. Now, Cleopas and others are huddled in the room. They’re telling and hearing the story, and as if there’s no time for them to process it all—just what it is that they’re hearing, just what it is that they’re saying—Jesus again is amongst them.  He comes offering “Peace” and standing before them … yet, they’re not sure what to make of him … and better yet, they’re not sure just what to do with themselves! They’re frightened! They’re terrified! … And they just can’t believe it all.  It’s as if it’s all too much for them to take in, to bear. They’re surely in the midst of grief and confusion, and this appearance—Jesus’ coming to them from out of nowhere—just adds layers to their bewilderment.  Jesus senses their wariness. He discerns their disbelief and their frustration. He’s in tune with their doubts—and it’s all rooted in the disbelief over what they’re actually seeing with their own eyes … a different twist to last week’s story of Faithful Thomas … Thomas, who stated that he’d be willing to believe, if … if he could, in fact, see with his own eyes. … What a difference! … They’re seeing with their own eyes, and they just can’t believe it. … Maybe … seeing really isn’t believing! … It sure wasn’t in this case … where the disciples thought they were seeing a ghost! … But then, something happens that’s not so terribly different from what we’ve heard before … Jesus goes above and beyond to help them understand.  Jesus convinces them to slow down.  He makes room for them to soak at least a little of it in. … He shows them that he is real—that he is indeed flesh and bone. He shows them the marks of his hands and feet and offers for them to touch him, if they need further proof … to help reconcile it all to them in their own minds. And what’s more, he makes offering of himself not once, but twice in this appearance to the disciples. Once to touch—for the disciples to see that he is flesh and bone; and the other, to offer his flesh and blood … by making meal in their presence. He eats amongst them. He interjects—or maybe better put—he makes room yet again for them in their disbelief, by eating before them, not so much to allay his own hunger, than it is to satisfy their cravings—their own needs and longings and a true hunger for understanding, to make sense of it all. Jesus partakes in the meal—one that they have already begun—and by so doing, he proves to them that he is flesh and bone, that he can eat like you and me—but at the same time, reminding them of his flesh and blood—the meal they had shared only a few nights before. … The fish came to be one of the earliest signs of the Eucharist and one of the earliest symbols of Christendom, especially when it was not safe to be a Christian.  By eating in their presence, Jesus proves the reality of the situation … that he is indeed in their very midst … that although changed, there is also that which is forever unchanged, and by so doing, he allows room for yet another moment of teaching … an eyes-wide-open kind of teaching that will satisfy and nourish and compel and commission them to do the very work that is now theirs to participate in, theirs to carry on. We, too, are called to an eyes-wide-open revelation.  We are so called as we meet week after week in this place for nourishment, for sustenance, for refreshment … that we might be driven back out into the world to get busy—to get at it—to do the work that we have been given to do.  Just like the Maundy Thursday encounter, the institution of the Eucharist and the call to humble service, this is a moment of teaching for the disciples and for us.  It is through the meal—a shared meal—that we become more fully aware of our mission and ministry. It is in seeking nourishment—not that the world can offer but nourishment that can only be found at this table—it is in partaking in a meal—breaking bread together in a way that is no different than any other meal, yet at the same time is unlike any other meal ever shared—it is in the coming together for refreshment—making ourselves available to the Eucharist and to one another, and the Eucharist and each of us made available to the other that we find wholeness—that we become more grounded, more compelled, more rooted in the knowledge of just what it is we’re supposed to be about in this world—finding sustenance, that we might be more ready to live not for ourselves but for the world in which we find ourselves.  … This is a bit of what surely was revealed to the disciples in that locked-room moment.  This is a bit of what surely is revealed to us … each and every time we come to this table, each and every time we make communion and break bread with one another. You’ve heard me say it before.  The Peace of God, the Peace that Jesus offers is no peace at all, at least not in the sense that it gives us permission to rest in quietness, to attain the secret and not share it. … Friends, this is what today’s story is all about. … The Peace of God—that peace which surpasses all understanding—shakes us and moves us from this place. It offers quiet confidence in the midst of unknowing. It compels us to action on behalf of the disenfranchised and in all places of compromised dignity. It readies and steadies us as “witnesses” of the living Christ—the true living Christ—whether or not we’ve seen with our own eyes—witnesses called to share, and to retell and to participate in the story. … Will we make it real? Will we live it like we believe it? Will we?