This sermon was most definitely heard. Last Sunday our congregation hosted a Service of Lamentation and Hope as a response to the minority vote at General Synod regarding the ordination of men and women. I was asked to lead the third reflection based on the narrative in Luke 24. Over 60 attendees from many congregations and generations gathered to sing, pray, talk and commune with one another in the wake of the vote. This was my reflection.

As they approached the village to which they were going, Jesus continued on as if he were going further. But they urged him strongly, ‘Stay with us, for it is nearly evening; the day is almost over.’ So he went in to stay with them.

When he was at the table with them, he took bread, gave thanks, broke it and began to give it to them. Then their eyes were opened and they recognised him, and he disappeared from their sight.

They asked each other, ‘Were not our hearts burning within us while he talked with us on the road and opened the Scriptures to us?’

They got up and returned at once to Jerusalem. There they found the Eleven and those with them, assembled together and saying, ‘It is true! The Lord has risen and has appeared to Simon.’ Then the two told what had happened on the way, and how Jesus was recognised by them when he broke the bread.

Luke 24:28-35

Grace, peace, and mercy are yours through the risen Son, Jesus Christ.

As I was preparing for the service tonight, I kept asking myself the question, “Who am I?” Who am I to stand up here today? Who am I to reflect on this Bible reading. Who am I?

And as I was reading this narrative from Luke, I came to realise that who I am is not really important…who I am is simply one with those women, marvelling at an empty tomb, unsure, amazed, disbelieving, wondering, filled with grief, filled with hope. Who I am is simply one with those disciples walking the road, grieving at events, mulling over what has happened, speculating over what is next.

And perhaps this is indeed all of us here tonight…this is who we are. This is where we are at…perhaps this is where our church is at.

But the thing is…this may be where we are at…but this is not where we are left. Because, reading this narrative, I come to realise that the question to ask is not, “Who am I?” It’s not “Who is this person standing at the pulpit?” Rather the question I am led to ask is, “Who is he? Who is the one being pointed to?” Who is this one who walked with the disciples in their worry, their grief, their hope? Who is the one who walks with us in our worry and grief and hope?

In this time of grief and uncertainty I am reminded of what the Psalmist said in Psalm 121: “I look to the hills, where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord.”

In this narrative today we are reminded again of the presence of our Lord in our lives and in our church, walking with us in our grief and hurt, teaching us and opening our eyes to the Scriptures, sharing his meal with us. We are reminded again of what is important – it’s in this here and now as Jesus reveals himself to us again. As he reveals himself in his Word, as he reveals himself to us in this meal.

Here is where our hope lies – here is what is important.

It is here in this meal that Jesus gathers us all in…as we are reminded in the communion liturgy – that all Christians of all times and all places are united in this meal, are united in the hymn of praise as we sing Hosanna to the one who has come to save us all.

It is here, around this table, that Jesus reveals himself to us all in the breaking of the bread, as he did with his disciples long ago. And as he did then, he gives his body and blood to us all in this bread and wine – a very physical meal as well as a spiritual meal to strengthen us for this journey we’re on; to strengthen our church for the journey.

So where do we look for our help and our hope? We look to the hill of the cross where Christ freely gave himself for us all. We look to the hill that contained an empty tomb when death could not hold him. We look to the hill that is the altar where gives himself to us again today. Here is the hope that resides in our hearts – this is the hope that we proclaim with one voice, whoever it is who stands in this place. Here is our hope amidst grief and disunity. Here is our hope and our courage as we walk the journey of a church in crisis. Here is our hope as Christ draws us back into his life and grants us the peace that surpasses all human understanding…the peace that only he can give us.

Amen.

PowerPoint from the Service Download