Doubt and the presence of Jesus
Easter 3A | Luke 24:13-35
Have you ever noticed that we spend more time in Easter talking about doubt than anything else?
The women come to the tomb and freak out that it’s empty.
The men don’t trust what the women are telling them, so they have to see for themselves.
The other men don’t trust those men who saw for themselves…
Last week, we had the disciples locked up, afraid, doubting what Mary had told them. And what Peter and John had to say. Even Peter and John themselves are afraid. And then after their encounter without him, Thomas doubts what the disciples told him.
Now we have these two traveling disciples, walking in doubt.
I suspect most of us can relate to this kind of doubt.
The doubt that is somewhere between total skeptic and “trust but verify”.
In that way, it doesn’t matter what Jesus told them would happen, they are seeing all of this with their own eyes. And they can’t conceive of any other way out of it.
I suspect we can relate to that feeling too.
Things are the way they are. And we don’t like it. But we also can’t see how to make them…not be this. Things just…are.
There’s a reason this story, a famous walk along a road from Jerusalem to Emmaus captures our imagination. Even if we’re thinking there’s something we’re supposed to “get” from it. There’s something…familiar about that feeling. Of something that mixes doubt and confusion.
Not knowing what to do. Surprised that someone doesn’t get what we’re in the middle of. Perhaps there’s a bit of panic behind the scenes.
We shouldn’t sugarcoat it, either.
Jesus died. They saw it.
He was tortured and killed as a terrorist by the brutal empire occupying their country. An empire that has the power to conquer the known world. And did.
These disciples, on the other hand, had anticipated liberation and redemption. That Jesus would help them toss Rome to the curb. And all would be alive in freedom and renewed hope. That was the promise they heard from Jesus.
Or at least, that’s how they heard and interpreted that promise. He did say some things about going to Jerusalem to die and rise again. Stuff they didn’t think they needed to pay much attention to, but is now bugging them. And now, strangely sounding like it’s actually important stuff and they probably should’ve paid better attention…
He said he’d die. And he did. He said he’d rise again. And there are people telling us that…but…
Do we see what’s happening for these two?
They know what they’re supposed to know. And they want to want to believe it. But there’s something still holding them back, isn’t there? Doubt isn’t quite right. Something closer to knowing with the brain but less the heart.
They are blind to the truth.
This is an idea common to Jesus’s resurrection stories. Jesus is in front of them and they can’t recognize him.
On one level, we think That’s weird, right? Jesus is literally there and they don’t recognize him. How is this possible?
And the evangelists want us to think like that! Because they want us to understand that this man is Jesus. That it is his body. Which is why they each take great pains to point out the wounds from the crucifixion. This man standing here is the same man.
So how is it possible that these people, who saw this same man Thursday evening, don’t recognize him at all on Sunday afternoon?
The literal is confounding.
But so, also, is the metaphorical.
Because a risen Christ standing there confuses the people who knew him best.
So this theme of blindness: of Mary and the other disciples not recognizing Jesus, even when he stands before them: is a potent reminder of our own spiritual blindness in the face of our own circumstances.
And how willing we are, in the midst of our own confusion (and fear) to reject the very things Jesus said were true.
We make it a debate.
He said: I’m coming back.
We said: prove it.
He proves it.
We said: I don’t see it.
He makes himself known.
We tell others.
They say: prove it.
There’s a dance we do, isn’t there? And not just with the resurrection and reality. But with everything Jesus says. Everything he communicates. We go: prove it.
Jesus says: give away your possessions and you’ll inherit life.
We say: prove that living without that stuff is actually better.
Jesus says: feed my sheep.
We say: but aren’t we just teaching them to be dependent on us?
Jesus says: take up your cross and follow me.
We say: isn’t that what I’m already doing?
Jesus speaks to us all the time and how do we respond? Most often it’s with doubt. I don’t think he really means all that…
We’re not seeing him.
That’s the irony, of course. Jesus is there the whole time. The man they travel with is Jesus. Just like the gardener at the tomb was Jesus. And in the midst of their own fear and confusion, Jesus is there.
And while we make it about us and what we believe (or see), it is still Jesus that is there. Regardless of us. Our doubt, confusion, or fear. Jesus is still here. With us.
We are the most ridiculous creatures God has created. And they made the platypus.
Jesus is there, people can’t tell it’s him, he helps them see that he’s there, and guess what? We still make it about us! About whether or not we see! Like Thomas, we hear this and go, yeah, but I need to see it with my own eyes. Like the world revolves around us. We’re such narcissists!
We call this object permanence. We’re all toddlers acting like things literally disappear if we cover our eyes. Like reality itself stops existing if we go yeah, I’m not sure I believe it…
Thankfully, that’s not the point.
Jesus teaches about who we are to become. What the mission is. And where we’re headed. This is the North Star in the midst of our confusion. The “when in doubt, do this” of bad times.
And one set of his central theses are the Beatitudes. Those blessings that begin:
“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”
Matthew 5:3
So we are blessed in our doubt and confusion. And ours is the kingdom of heaven. Here. To reflect the will of God. There as here.
Blessed in our poor spirits, confused and lost. But full of Jesus. And the teachings. To love others and transform systems of injustice.
What does heaven look like? Shalom: Peace, justice, wholeness. OK, then we do that here. Shalom. Peace, justice, wholeness.
Can you see it? Yes, in our dreams. In our world? Sometimes. Not everywhere. Not always. But sometimes. In parts. Then make more. Wage more peace. Make more justice. Ensure more wholeness.
Bring people together in love.
Make it real and witness it in our world. Feeding, healing, sharing.
Do it as individuals and as a community. So we show up for each other and we gather.
Join in when we see it, too. Jesus is present everywhere. Including where we’d rather not look. But when we see it, name it. Live into it.
As a people, we gather ourselves. We break bread together, share it, and eat it. We do that because he told us to eat together. And to keep eating together. Just like this.
To take, bless, break, and give. And in that, wherever we are, Jesus will be known. Promise.