Easter 3A

Easter 3A May 4, 2014 It is a season of hope, this great 50 days of Easter Season. It is a season of hope in our diocese of Mississippi, this week that has led up to the election of the 10th bishop of Mississippi. The hope and the energy and the excitement have been palpable—both in my conversations with you, in our gathering here on Wednesday night, and as our diocese gathered together in a re-convened Council to elect our new bishop. Yesterday, we elected the Very Reverend Brian Seage to be our 10th Bishop of Mississippi. And people there and all across the diocese are excited, hope-filled, and hopeful. And yet, in the middle of this season of hope, my imagination is captured by 4 little words in this gospel story for today, one of my favorite gospel stories. The two men are on the road from Jerusalem to Emmaeus when they encounter the risen Christ, but they do not recognize him. They tell him of all that has happened, and then they say these four little words that echo deeply within our own souls: “But we had hoped…” It is the cry of frustrated expectation, of disappointment, of heartbreak, of failure. “But we had hoped…: It is said that Ernest Hemmingway was once challenged to write a short story in 6 words. He replied by taking out a pen and writing on a napkin: “For sale: baby shoes, never used.” “It’s not just the tragedy of what happened that hurts, but the gaping hole of all that could have happened but won’t.”(David Lose on Workingpreacher.org) And we know something about this, don’t we? But we had hoped….that the cancer wouldn’t return. But we had hoped that the addiction would be overcome. But we had hoped that the beloved wouldn’t die, the friend wouldn’t betray, the child wouldn’t walk away, the perfect job would come along, the people wouldn’t disappoint us. So today, in the midst of this season of hope, we take a moment to grieve the future that will never be, to acknowledge the expectations that will never be met. We like the two men on the road to Emmaeus, walk together a ways on this day to bury our hope. And like them, we encounter the Risen Christ in the breaking of bread, in hospitality and welcoming the stranger. We encounter the Risen Christ in the Eucharist—he who is the embodiment and fulfillment of a hope that can never be lost or frustrated or even expected and anticipated. Like the two men on the road to Emmaus, we, too, discover, that in the Risen Christ is the true source of our hope that is never diminished, no matter what happens, as long as we gather together in his name. And we discover that a significant part of that hope exists in the fact that we always have companions on the way. So on this day, let us grieve the loss of our hope, even as we feed on the love of God and drink from the spring of his hope. And may we go out into this world as ambassadors of this hope—proclaiming to others that even though their hope may be lost, and they may grieve a future that will never be, God has created and prepared a future for them that is beyond any they can ask for or imagine. That is an Easter message. That is what it means to be a resurrection people. Thanks be to God. Alleluia. Alleluia.