Third Sunday of Easter 2008

Acts 2:14a,36-41

Psalm 116:1-4,12-19

1 Peter 1:17-23

Luke 24:13-35

I have been reading T.S. Eliot this past year. Not easy reading, good old Eliot. It sometimes take a few runs at a line to get it. And sometimes, as with all good poetry, even if you can’t take it apart, the emotion comes through.

And so I turned again to Eliot this past week. In the way that sermons work for me, I read the text, some commentaries, doodle about in the gray matter of my mind…

Walk away, come back. See what happens. And I was led back to Eliot.  First to  “The Wasteland” which begins 
 
April is the cruelest month, breeding 
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers.

April is the cruelest month. Will it rain or snow? Be warm or cold? Wet or dry? And then, usually, in April we get Holy Week and Easter. A time of great emotion and wonder in the ways of the church.

Together with the end of winter, Easter stirs up “Memory and desire”. It is one of those holidays when we remember the loss of loved ones. The remembrances of past gatherings and the reality of the present ones.

Mixed memories, mixed emotions.

The disciples were there. The mixed emotion part. Walking to Emmaus, 2 of the disciples were grieving and wondering. They were talking about lost hope, the death of the prophet Jesus. And wondering about the gossip of the women.

Jesus lets them talk. He doesn’t interrupt or jump in or question their emotions. He asks them a question….”What are you discussing with each other while you walk along?” And then listens.

When they are done, it is Jesus turn to explain. And he does. Walking and talking all the way to the village.

Still they don’t get it…the disciples. Like reading poetry sometimes…understood the words and maybe the lines. But can’t see the whole picture.

Still, let’s invite this stranger in and feed him. Come, stay…

And then in the breaking of the bread they finally see…

And in seeing the present they see the past…”Were not our hearts burning within us?”

And the pieces fit together, the verses now rhyme. And they run…run to tell the others.

And in the end is the beginning. Another Eliot line…one I’ve used before, from “Number 4” of the “Four Quartets.”

What we call the beginning is often the end

And to make an end is to make a beginning.

The end is where we start from. And every phrase

And sentence that is right (where every word is at home…
 
 
“The end is where we start from.” We Christians sitting in these pews in  21st Century  Iowa hear the ends of the story. First, the end the disciples were discussing…the death of Jesus. And wait! It isn’t an end at all…but a new beginning. A new way of seeing the world, life and death.
 
And then at the end of the gospel of Luke…the last chapter…the walk to Emmaus followed only by a breakfast picnic of fish and then the ascension…we have this “walk to Emmaus” story. The end of the Gospel of Luke. And then it drops off…and we pick up again in the book of Acts.
 
The end of Luke is not the end but the beginning of the book of Acts.
 
The end of today’s Gospel reading is not the end either. Because the story doesn’t end in the book, bound between two covers.
 
The appearance of Jesus, the breaking of the bread, the recognition that, wow! he was here all alone doesn’t end when I stopped reading or when I finally stop talking. The story, the poetry, the presence of Christ with us doesn’t end when we say our farewells and leave this building.
 
Yeh, one part of the service ends, one part of the day, another Sunday…they end.
 
But in the end is the beginning. A fresh beginning. Another chance. Not to pick up where we left off, but to start anew.
 
With all the mixed emotions of springtime, with all the snow and rain and clouds. With all the joy of seeing bulbs seeking the light. 
 
 
 
With the mixed emotions of doubt and belief. Hearing the story and wondering if it really, really true…
 
Then having times like the Psalmist’ grief and sorrow, mixed up with times of joy and celebration…

It ain’t easy. It ain’t simple. Understanding this life is as complex as reading Eliot. Sometimes it is as hard as trying to make sense of resurrection rumors. At other times it is as clear as seeing Jesus in the breaking of the bread.

I think, I think we are given moments of grace. Times when we look back and can see that, yes, God was present. We are given glimpses of Jesus whenever we break bread together. Tastes like…the resurrection! A beginning that comes from an end.

We are given these moments…this water to touch, this bread and wine to taste. And the chance to have endings become not the final answer but new beginnings.

New beginnings that don’t take us out of the world…but move us more fully into the heart of the world. Into the heart of the resurrection.

Ah, April is the cruelest month…and April is a gift. Like every month, every day, every hour…a new beginning coming out of an end.

So let us live the resurrection life, knowing that Jesus walks with us…Jesus is still, today, even now being made known in the breaking of the bread. Even now, “ the end is where we start from. “

Christ is Risen…Christ is risen indeed. Alleluia.

The end? The beginning. Amen.