Third Sunday of Easter (Year A) | April 26, 2020 | The Rev. Heidi Thorsen

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be pleasing to you, O God, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.

“Life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forwards.” This quote, by Danish philosopher Soren Kierkegaard, has long been one of my favorites. I hold onto it in the difficult times, when life doesn’t make a lot of sense. Of course those “difficult times” I’m referring to used to be high school - or at least, that’s what it was when I first discovered this quote. But now the difficult times are this COVID-19 situation that we are all living through. Perhaps one month from now, one year from now, five years from now - we’ll have a bit more perspective on these days of isolation. Perhaps, if you’re a very providential sort of person, you’ll come to believe that all of this happened for a reason. Though right now, I have to admit, I’m hard pressed to say what reason that could be. What reason could there be for untimely death? For unemployment? For emotional stress? What reason could there be for families and friends not being able to see each other in person? I’m reluctant to jump to the philosopher’s mode of trying to make sense of things with intellectual answers. And in fact, that’s not the point of Kierkegaard’s quote in any case. Kierkegaard reminds us that life is complicated, and sometimes all we can do is move through things, day by day.

“Life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forwards.”

I imagine that the disciples, on the Road to Emmaus, would have resonated with this quote. The events of the past week didn’t make a lot of sense. Jesus, the one they had hoped would be their savior, is dead. And while there are rumors that the tomb is empty and Jesus is risen, the disciples just can’t bring themselves to accept this unlikely truth. And so they do the only thing they can do. They live life forwards. They set out on the road to Emmaus - for no reason in particular, as far as the Gospel story goes. But we can imagine they set out to leave the past behind. To move forward in any way they can. To live life forwards.

As they continue on this journey, they are joined by a stranger. We know that this stranger is the risen Jesus - but they can’t see it. At least not yet. Still the stranger makes for good company. He’s amusing - insofar as he’s the only person in the entire region  who doesn’t know about the trial and crucifixion of Jesus (or at least he seems ignorant of these things). And then it turns out that this stranger is not just funny - he is brilliant. Because he proceeds to explain to them that the suffering and death of Jesus was necessary. And then he interprets to them all of the scriptures about their Messiah, going back to the prophets of old.

You would think that this lengthy interpretation would be enough to raise the disciple’s suspicions, but it doesn’t. Instead it is only later in the evening, as the disciples sit down for a meal with this stranger, that their eyes are opened. Suddenly they see Jesus. And just as quickly as they see him, he vanishes.

Life can only be understood backwards - when suddenly, the disciples realize that the stranger walking with them was Jesus, all along. And yet it must be lived forwards - as they find themselves in the present moment, only now realizing just how precious the afternoon had been.

What does it mean for our eyes to be opened, as the disciples’ eyes were opened at Emmaus? Perhaps, for Soren Kierkegaard and other philosophers, having our eyes open is akin to some kind of intellectual understanding. Perhaps it means having a clear interpretation, like the systematic explanation of the scriptures that Jesus gives to the two disciples on the road. And yet, in our gospel passage for today, understanding the scriptures is not the same thing as having one’s eyes be opened. We know this because Jesus - or the stranger who is Jesus - has already interpreted the scriptures to the disciples with perfect clarity, and yet their eyes were still shut. It is only later, at supper, when their eyes are opened. In other words - faith, for the disciples, isn’t a solely matter of intellectual thought or understanding. Faith isn’t about knowing the answers, or knowing the right way to interpret scriptures. Rather, faith is a new way of seeing. Faith is recognizing that Jesus was there all along - even in those moments when God seemed absent.

Our faith, as Christians, doesn’t necessarily give us answers. It doesn’t tell us why COVID-19 is happening. It doesn’t give us a cure for worldly disease. But our faith does give us a new way of seeing the world. Our faith gives us eyes to see people on the street, even behind a face mask or bandana, and recognize that they are children of God. Our faith gives us eyes to see the wonder of creation, which is still very much alive when so much of our routines and habits have ground to a halt. And our faith gives us eyes to see that Jesus has been walking alongside us, all along. When we walk around the block simply to get a breath of fresh air, Jesus is with us. When we are juggling dishes, and family, and zoom calls for work, Jesus is with us. And in those moments when we let ourselves cry our sigh out of grief or exhaustion, Jesus is right there with us. 

The promise of salvation is not that we will suddenly understand everything. The promise of salvation is this: that our eyes can be opened. That we can see this world afresh, eyes open to every passing feeling, heart open to one another. This perspective is the very substance of life everlasting - a life that begins not just we die, but as soon as our eyes are opened. My prayer for today is that we don’t have to wait until we are able to gather together again, in person, and break bread together, for our eyes to be opened. My prayer is that our eyes are opened today - right here, right now, wherever we are on this journey. And in that spirit of opening our eyes, I invite you to pray with me - perhaps with eyes open, taking in the room around you. Taking in the world around you. Let us pray:

Loving God, open the eyes of our hearts today, that we might see how our hearts are still burning within us. Whether that flame is a quiet candle, or a fire, or a bright burning sun, we contain inside ourselves a spark of your love - a spark of creation. Open our eyes to see that light in ourselves and in one another. Open our eyes that we might see you. In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.