Sermon preached by Christy Brown on Sunday, April 19, 2026
Good morning, church. Good morning. Thank you for letting me fill in today while Margie is away having fun. A lot of you know—and Wesley said—that I’m going to be graduating in a few weeks, and I’m still in discernment about where God is calling me next. But I hope it is somewhere that is half as inviting as Vine Street has been for me for these past two years. Your support and encouragement have helped me to grow as a minister and also as a Christian, and I’m grateful for each and every one of you. So, thank you.
Now, before I get misty, I’m going to move on.
Last week, Wesley preached a great message about doubting Thomas—about how our doubt doesn’t mean we don’t have faith, but that our doubt is actually a sign of our faith; a sign that we are questioning how to have faith in this imperfect world that has not yet lived up to what the world God designed for us.
And this week, we are met with other disciples who are also questioning. They are wondering about the meaning of Jesus in a world that doesn’t make sense to human eyes. Sound familiar?
Today’s scripture from the Gospel of Luke reminds us to be prepared to recognize Jesus in unexpected places. And I identify with this message, because sometimes I can get so wrapped up in considering gospels and ethics and analyzing Christianity today that I lose sight of Jesus and his presence in our world.
So I hope that, as we all study Luke’s message, it reaches each of us, and we take from this place and remember to keep our eyes open for Jesus’s presence throughout the week ahead.
Let us pray.
Loving God, guide us today as we study your scripture. Shine your light within our hearts and open the eyes of our minds and our spirits, that we may be ready to know your truth and understand your ways. Amen.
Have you ever been looking for your keys or your phone or your glasses, and you eventually realize that whatever it was you’re looking for is right in front of you? I’ve been known to put on a pair of sunglasses while I still have another pair on top of my head. And I only notice that I’m wearing two pairs because, when I’m putting on the second pair, it bumps the first pair. Am I the only one that does this?
Today’s scripture strikes me as a little bit like that. It’s like being so close to something that, even though you’re searching for it, you don’t see it. Jesus is like that sometimes. Sometimes we’re working so hard to find him that we miss seeing him when he appears right in front of our noses.
In fact, so many people are searching to find Jesus in today’s world that we have over 216 major Christian denominations in the U.S. and Canada, and over 35,000 independent and non-denominational congregations. That means there are about 32 denominations or congregations for every page of the Bible. People are looking for Jesus. But how do we know what he looks like when there are 35,000 different versions?
Today’s gospel reading is the story of people who focus so hard on trying to find meaning behind Jesus’s death that they miss his resurrection. Luke chapter 24 tells us it’s the third day after Jesus’s crucifixion—the day when Christ is risen, the day his body was not found at the tomb.
And two of his followers are walking down the road from Jerusalem to Emmaus. It’s a seven-mile walk, so they have plenty of time to talk about what’s happened in the past three days and what it all means. They know the tomb was found empty because the women told them it was empty. In verse 10, Luke tells us the women were Mary Magdalene, Joanna, and Mary the mother of James, and some other women.
And, as Margie likes to do, let’s give those other women some names. Anyone have a name? Veronica? Okay—so we’ve got Mary, Joanna, the other Mary, and Veronica. And they have found that Jesus is not at the tomb, and angels have told them that he is risen.
Obviously, the women were amazed, and they returned to the eleven apostles and shared what they had seen. But the apostles didn’t believe them. The gospel says, “The words to them seemed like an idle tale.” But I guess Peter at least questioned whether the women might be telling the truth, because he got up and ran to the tomb himself and confirmed it. He saw the empty tomb and the linen cloths lying there, with nobody inside. But the apostles still didn’t understand what it all meant.
So later that day, these two men—these two followers of Jesus—are walking along the road to Emmaus, talking about these events, and a stranger approaches them. Even though they’re consumed with their conversations about Jesus—and it’s all they can think about—scripture says their eyes are kept from recognizing him.
Even while he’s walking right beside them, they’re talking about him, and they don’t even recognize him.
And we can’t know for sure why. Scripture says their eyes were kept from recognizing him. Some people interpret this to mean that their eyes were closed by some sort of mystical, divine intervention, so they would listen while Jesus explained the scriptures to them and not be distracted by the fact that he was there. Others believe they didn’t recognize Jesus because they knew he was dead, and their faith wasn’t strong enough to believe that he could be alive.
Despite the women’s testimony that Jesus was risen, and despite Peter’s confirmation that the body was gone, they weren’t ready to believe that Jesus was alive.
But when I read Luke’s gospel, I tend to think maybe it was their own preoccupation with Jesus’s story—trying to figure out what had happened—that made them unable to recognize Jesus. Maybe they were so busy thinking and trying to make sense of Jesus’s ministry, trying to figure it all out in their heads, that they just missed the real-life Jesus walking down the road right beside them.
I know I struggle with this sometimes. I don’t see Jesus in the world because I get caught up in hype. And social media certainly adds a new dimension of distraction. I’m constantly interrupted by unimportant things, like AI memes of the Golden Girls, or sometimes by upsetting things like the latest political news. And these things seem so urgent, when often they are just drawing my attention away from real places where I might be able to serve God in the physical world.
I’m thinking about what’s on the screen, or what’s in my head, or maybe what’s written in scripture—but it gets to the point that I forget to look at the actual world around me. How many times do I miss seeing Jesus because I’m too busy looking at other distractions? I don’t know, but it helps me identify with Cleopas.
We don’t really know why Cleopas and the other disciple don’t realize who Jesus is. But when they see a stranger join them on their walk and ask what they’re talking about, they look at him like he’s crazy. Cleopas even asks in verse 18, “Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who doesn’t know the things that have taken place in these days?”
They assume Jesus must be an outsider, because everyone in Jerusalem is aware of what has happened over the weekend. This man—this stranger—must be from somewhere else. He must be unaware of the local news and customs and culture: the Passover, the crucifixion.
Now, the Greek word for stranger that Cleopas uses to address Jesus is paroikos. It’s derived from para, which means “alongside,” and oikos, or “home.” So this is someone alongside their home, not at home. It’s a word used to describe someone living temporarily in the land, usually without citizenship rights.
So how can we recognize Jesus? We can look for the paroikos, because Jesus was an outsider not just walking to Emmaus, but all of his life. Just as Jesus was not born into royalty but into a manger, and just as he didn’t choose to ride into Jerusalem on a stallion but on a donkey—when Jesus first appears to his followers after the crucifixion, he does not appear as a rich merchant or a centurion or a king, although he had the ability and the authority to be any of those things. Instead, he chooses to show up as a stranger who hasn’t heard the news.
I don’t know about you, but this makes me think a lot about the headlines in this week’s news. While Jesus, our risen Lord, appeared to his followers, he did not choose to be someone worthy of worship, but a stranger.
When Jesus had the opportunity to show the entire world his glory—to prove his triumph over death—he chose to come back as someone who isn’t even recognized by his own followers.
So how do we spot Jesus in the world? We have to be able to know the difference between the Jesus who walks with the oppressed and the images of Jesus that support power and empire.
Liberation theology is the study of the gospel as it reaches those who’ve been exploited by empire. It has its roots among the poor and oppressed—not among the people who are controlling the empire and waging wars, but among the people who are suffering.
These are the people Jesus chose to identify with when he revealed himself—not the rulers, but the oppressed.
And basically what liberation theology boils down to is this: we have a choice in what we believe the message of Christ is. Did Jesus come so that generations after his death could continue to live under empire and hope for a better life one day in heaven? Or did Jesus come so that all people might have life more abundant here and now on earth?
Did he come just to give us hope for an afterlife? Or does his message of “love your neighbor” give us the tools to work for a better tomorrow here and now?
Father Bruce Morrill says the entire Bible can be summarized in two lines. First: somebody’s in trouble. And second: repent.
Throughout both the Old and New Testament, every story starts with someone in trouble. The people of God aren’t the ruling authorities—they are the people who are in trouble. And the second line is simply one word: repent. Repent means to change what you’re doing, because somebody’s in trouble and something needs to change.
The Gospel of Mark is considered to be the oldest gospel, so the first words ever written to come out of the mouth of Jesus are found in Mark chapter 1. Jesus says, “The time has come. The kingdom of God has come near. Repent and believe the good news.”
Somebody’s in trouble—and it’s time to repent.
I don’t know about you, but I find these words convicting. And I come here to church each week because I believe the gospel message is not meant simply for heaven. It’s not just about the afterlife, but about creating the kingdom of heaven here on earth.
Here at Vine Street, I know I’m close to a group of other people who feel the same way. When I sit in Sunday school or elders’ meetings or on the outreach committee, I find myself surrounded by people who want to make the world a better place—who care for each other and who welcome everyone to the table.
I see our members when they march at the capitol and write letters and make calls to our legislators, reminding them that they have a responsibility to take care of everyone who lives here—not just the wealthy, or just the ones who think like they do.
Like the slogan for Room in the Inn says: love your neighbor, y’all. And every true Southerner knows that “y’all” means all.
How many opportunities do we have to see Jesus that we aren’t even aware of? How often do we miss our chance because it seems too miraculous, too unlikely, or simply because we’re too busy doing other things?
On the road to Emmaus, Cleopas and the other disciple are talking about Jesus, but they don’t see him. They’re believers, but their problem isn’t about their belief. They’re so busy talking about Jesus and trying to figure out his theology and what it all means that they miss Jesus in the world.
They miss the Jesus who is standing beside them, talking to them, and walking with them.
How often do we spend our time in our own heads? And do we miss Jesus standing right in front of us?
Jesus says in Matthew 25 that some of us won’t recognize him when we see him out in the world. At the end of our lives, there will be some people who say, “Lord, when did I see you hungry or thirsty and give you food or drink? When did I welcome you as a stranger or visit you when you were sick or in prison?” And he will answer them, “Just as you did it to one of the least of these, you did it to me.”
And the good news for Cleopas and the other disciple is that, even though they didn’t recognize Jesus when he was walking with them, when they came to the end of their journey, they invited the stranger to come in and stay with them.
And when the stranger was in their house and they were sharing bread with him, only then were their eyes opened. Jesus took the bread, blessed it, broke it, and gave it to them. And when they recognized him, he immediately vanished from their sight.
Then they realized the importance of all Jesus had told them on their walk.
So when I think about the entirety of this story, I think about what Father Morrill said and how to summarize the Bible: somebody’s in trouble, and repent.
These disciples thought Jesus was the one in trouble—the stranger. They didn’t want him left out on the road at night, so they offered him shelter and food.
And only then did they realize that Jesus wasn’t the one in trouble at all.