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From The First Baptist Church in America pulpit
The Season of Easter – April 6, 2008
“The Power of Memory” (Luke 24:13-35)
Dr. Dan Ivins, preaching

Two downcast disciples are walking along the road to nowhere, discussing how they foolishly put all their hopes in Jesus. But it didn’t pan out. In spite of the stories circulated by the women who found the tomb empty. After they talked awhile, a Stranger comes up from behind and chides them, “What’s it gonna take for ya’ll to get it?” Then he gave ‘em a Sunday School Bible lesson. And nothing happened!

When they got to the house they welcomed him in. “It’s late. Why don't you stay?” He did. And they invited him to say the blessing. The Stranger took the bread, broke it and it reminded them of the upper room. That’s when they got it! They didn’t get it until their memories broke through the grief: “Remember back on the road, how our hearts burned when he opened up the scriptures?” Dim memories and burning hearts. It took the experience with Jesus around the table to get them to recognize God's presence. And it wasn’t until then that they remembered what happened back on the road--when he taught them the Scriptures; which at the time...seems not to have registered at all.

I wish it were different; that we could learn things at the time. You’d think at least the disciples would’ve got it, whom Jesus spent months teaching and even warning about his passion and resurrection. But it didn't take. Good Friday eyes blinded them. Then came “the 3^rd day,” and nothing. Easter didn’t do it. Finally, when he broke the bread and shared the cup, that’s what did it. Their memories kicked in. “O yeah! Ya’ll remember when he explained the scriptures?” Yeah! If only we didn't have 20/20 hindsight. If we could be more perceptive and less dense, with more hope, it would save ourselves a lot of grief. But that's not the way it is.

Anybody who’s been through the holy chaos of American wedding rehearsals understands: we just don't get it at the time we're doing it. I've participated in numerous rehearsals and each time my conclusion is: This wedding will not occur! Mamma’s mad, grandmother doesn't show. The groomsmen are drunk. Nobody can agree on the size of the bridesmaids heels or the cost of a D.J. It's a shambles! We just don't get it at the time. Too many things get in the way. That’s our disciples on the road to Emmaus.

When I got baptized I was just a kid. The minister said a lot of holy stuff about “being buried in baptism with Christ...” Deep stuff. He meant well. But I’m thinking, “Man this water's cold!” “Do I hold the handkerchief or my breath?” I’m getting baptized! But ... I was also preoccupied. It didn’t hit me at the time.

That’s why you don’t really enjoy that trip you took till you get back. Last week Donna C. brought a Lexar stick to the church office with Israel pictures on it. She and Holly were laughing like crazy at some of them -- that deserved to be laughed at! But over there when it happened, it didn’t seem funny at the time. Ah but when we remember...

And for a long time now I’ve been trying to understand what I did when I got baptized. When I got married, I've spent almost half a century trying to come to terms with all that it means to say “I do.” It just seems that, like those two on the road, we learn things better afterwards. So much of life's most important events are learned in retrospect; as we recollect. What would we be without a memory? We’re so much like these two on the road, for whom the crucifixion was real, and the resurrection only a rumor. And they didn't get it. Then this ordinary experience of sharing a meal at the table. And they got it.

Now there's a lot of sin in memory. It gets twisted and distorted and we hold onto a lot of negative stuff. Too many people carry baggage around with them that they don't need. Some folks hide in their memories, refusing to face reality. “I’m never gonna forget what he did!” And an entire lifetime is wasted ... nursing a grudge; getting even.

But I’ll tell you what’s sad. My Mom’s been gone 13 years. And she didn't even remember the last time I visited with her. I’d driven home several times from Washington DC and she said, “You don't ever come to see me.” “But Mom, I was here not too long ago.” “Oh.” Hardened arteries block our memories. Think of the people whose memory bank is blank!

We’re gonna be ministering the rest of our lives like Jesus on the road, trusting that some good memories in the reservoir of people's minds and hearts can be resurrected to serve them well when crisis comes. We have to believe that. The ritual will be the same for the church as it was for Jesus: talking to the disciples; they don't get it; exhort them; teach them; and they still don’t get it! It just flies right over. This is the norm not the exception.

Abraham and Sarah are sitting in their tent. They didn't know the guests they were showing hospitality to were angels! “Sarah, get out some more plates. We've got company for supper.” They didn't know at the time who it was! And then later on, “They entertained angels unawares!” Wouldn’t it have been something if Abraham knew they were angels. And what would Sarah have fixed for supper had she known? The pressure would’ve been devastating.

Maybe it’s a good thing we don’t know. Mary didn’t know the Gardener was Jesus. How could she miss that? The Apostle Paul didn’t just whip out his quill and say, “I think I'll write a book of the New Testament.” He didn't know! At the time he’s just writing a letter to his buddies at Galatia. And later the Church said, “Now that’s the inspired word of God!” And it ended up in our Bible. You never know at the time. That’s what makes it real.

In Luke's Gospel, the disciples on the road, like Mary in the garden, didn't know it was Jesus. They just said, “Look, it's getting late, why don't you stay with us for supper.” If they’d known it was Jesus, they'd have been running around all over the place! Nah, it was just supper with a little bread and wine. They didn't know. That's what gives it integrity. How powerful is our ability to remember!

Earlier in this chapter on Easter morning, it was the angels who said, “Remember what he told you when he was in Galilee?” Noooo. They didn't get it. The crucifixion didn't do it. The resurrection didn't do it. But the meal around the table did. Then they remembered.

There’s an unexpected reticence in the gospels about Easter. So Luke doesn't bother to describe it. But he does reassure us that our Lord is known through the scriptures and the fellowship of broken bread and a shared cup.

Because the church won’t let us forget that he said to remember, we gather around this table to recall the wonderful deeds of God who graced us in the past, who blesses us in the present, and who leads us to abundant life in the future. And in that remembering as a community of faith, we hope the Risen Christ will unleash in us the spiritual energy to share our experiences as a blessing to others.

Last week I came across two different church signs. One said "Prepare to meet thy God." Reminiscent of “the Last supper;” threatening, ominous, apprehensive gathering before the crucifixion. Emphasis on “last.” A tone of finality. That's OK if it’s Maundy Thursday.

The other sign read: "Sing unto the Lord a new song!" And that’s why we call it the "Lord's Supper." Like the Emmaus meal Jesus ate with his disciples on Easter. When their eyes were opened and Jesus was “made known to them in the breaking of the bread." It was a joyful meal because their eyes were opened, their outlook changed; a new age had dawned. Like the tomb, the cross too is empty. We are Easter people!
Every Sunday our worship is a "little Easter," when we die and rise with Christ again. That's why the church doesn't worship on the Sabbath, but on Sunday the 1st day of the week, the day of resurrection.

When you take the bread today, I want you to remember that.
When you dip it in the cup, I want you to remember.

Pastoral Prayer:
O God, who chased away the gloom of the disciples with the good news of Easter and drowned the desert of their despair in a sea of grace, surprise us in this hour, as we continue to move through this Easter season. Remove the presumption that leans on our strength instead of yours; the impudence that mistakes our wisdom for yours; and the audacity that equates our will with yours.

Keep on “opening our minds” to the scriptures” so that we won’t “harden our hearts” against its inconvenient truth. Jesus identified himself as the Lord’s “suffering servant.” But we grow skeptical when bad things happen to good people. The Easter Season marks your stamp of approval on Jesus’ way of life, and death. But save us from reducing the resurrection to a proof of the immortality of the soul.

May your Spirit guide this church so that we will make you known not only “in the breaking of the bread” but in the sharing of it. Help us to accept the forgiveness of Christ not merely as a revelation of divine character but as a model for human behavior.

We invoke your power to overcome strife, to endure suffering, to rise above affliction and to pass through death and beyond. Let us never lose sight of the connection between Good Friday and Easter -- or that your victories don’t come without cost to us. Make us as willing to pay the price of your redemption as we are to claim it for ourselves.

Instead of lamenting our inability to make our neighbors take notice of us, make us doers of deeds that turn their attention to you. Assure us that our Lord’s promise still holds and be present with us now, as in the days of Jesus, to make us whole and to make us holy. Amen.