Easter Eyes - A Sermon
Written and delivered by Jay Horton, M.Div. for Sandy Springs United Methodist Church on Sunday, April 27, 2025.
Luke 24:13-33: The Walk to Emmaus (NRSVue)
13 Now on that same day two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem, 14 and talking with each other about all these things that had happened. 15 While they were talking and discussing, Jesus himself came near and went with them, 16 but their eyes were kept from recognizing him. 17 And he said to them, “What are you discussing with each other while you walk along?” They stood still, looking sad. 18 Then one of them, whose name was Cleopas, answered him, “Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have taken place there in these days?” 19 He asked them, “What things?” They replied, “The things about Jesus of Nazareth, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, 20 and how our chief priests and leaders handed him over to be condemned to death and crucified him. 21 But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel.Yes, and besides all this, it is now the third day since these things took place. 22 Moreover, some women of our group astounded us. They were at the tomb early this morning, 23 and when they did not find his body there they came back and told us that they had indeed seen a vision of angels who said that he was alive. 24 Some of those who were with us went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said, but they did not see him.” 25 Then he said to them, “Oh, how foolish you are and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have declared! 26 Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into his glory?” 27 Then beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them the things about himself in all the scriptures.
28 As they came near the village to which they were going, he walked ahead as if he were going on. 29 But they urged him strongly, saying, “Stay with us, because it is almost evening and the day is now nearly over.” So he went in to stay with them. 30 When he was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. 31 Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him, and he vanished from their sight. 32 They said to each other, “Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?” 33 That same hour they got up and returned to Jerusalem, and they found the eleven and their companions gathered together.
Today, we continue in the Easter season and begin a new series on Defying Gravity and engaging scriptures of resurrection! Show of hands—how many of you knew that Easter was a season, more than a day? A few of you, okay.
In the Christian calendar, the season of Easter actually lasts 50 days—over a month and a half. So well after the grave clothes are gone, the flowers on the chicken-wire crosses have wilted, and the alleluias have faded from our ears, Easter is still happening.
Some would argue, too—I being one of them—that Easter even extends beyond the liturgical season. We are, as Pastor Kate said last Sunday, Resurrection people, after all.
Every time we stand or sit upright and declare boldly, Christ is Risen! Christ is risen indeed—we are boldly declaring hope in the face of death.
But let’s be honest, as I just mentioned, the Easter attitude, the resurrected posture full of cheery family gatherings and joyful moods, can dissipate rather quickly.
Heck! One scroll on the wrong social media platform or a change of the channel on the TV can throw me out of my perk and pep real quick!
In-laws start talking politics, or a coworker sends me an email full of a little too much sass, I get in a fender-bender on the way to the grocery store, or hear devastating news about the status of a friend's cancer diagnosis, and my head and my heart are no longer in the skies but right back at the foot of that cross. It’s hard to remain Easter people when it can feel like the world is a little unrelenting.
Anyone feel that way? If you do, I assure you, you’re not alone.
Even in first-century Palestine, people were struggling with this reality. We read today about two disciples traveling together on a long journey—a seven-mile trip by foot—from Jerusalem to Emmaus. Jesus himself approaches the disciples, and when he does, they stop, their faces are downcast.
Jesus asks the disciples what they are discussing, and one of the disciples, who we learn is named Cleopas, replies, “Are you the only person in Jerusalem who is unaware of the things that have taken place over the last few days?”
Jesus, whether feigning ignorance or confused by their posture (considering he understands the whole picture), asks, “What things?”
And the disciples describe from their own perspective what has happened:
This man named Jesus was doing and saying all these powerful things. We had hung our hopes on him. “We had hoped he was the one who would redeem Israel.” To save us all.
But this scared the religious leaders and the politicians. The people in power—they killed him.
Not just killed him. They brutally abused his body and crucified him.
Then, to make matters worse, multiple friends have told us his body is not where we laid him to rest.
Many of us are on long journeys like the disciples—some four-year journeys—others 20-year journeys or longer—struggling with the pain and suffering we are experiencing, or witnessing friends and neighbors experience, from loss of loved ones, loss of hope, and disappointment in the world and the way we thought it should be. And we have stopped.
Standing in place, our heads downcast, we just want to lament. We don’t understand how everything we thought we knew could be so, so messed up.
To us and the disciples, Jesus kindly replies, “You foolish people.” Do you not see? God is with us.
Like a good Rabbi, a good teacher, Jesus gets the disciples moving again and starts to quote the prophets—all the foretellings about the events that transpired. I imagine prominent in this monologue were the words of the prophet Isaiah, who says:
“Thus says God, the Lord, who created the heavens and stretched them out, who spread out the earth and what comes from it, who gives breath to the people upon it and spirit to those who walk in it: I am the Lord; I have called you in righteousness; I have taken you by the hand and kept you; I have given you as a covenant to the people, a light to the nations, to open the eyes that are blind, to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon, from the prison those who sit in darkness…” (Isaiah 42:5-7 NRSVUE)
“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness, on them light has shined…” (Isaiah 9:2 NRSVUE)
“For a child has been born for us, a son given to us; authority rests upon his shoulders, and he is named Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace…” (Isaiah 9:6 NRSVUE)
“Out of his [Jesus’] anguish, he shall see; he shall find satisfaction through his knowledge. The righteous one, my servant, shall make many righteous, and he shall bear their iniquities.” (Isaiah 53:11 NRSVUE)
After he’s done, the disciples finally arrive at the place they were headed—a miracle for some stopped so long—they arrive to the community and ask Jesus (although still not quite sure who he is) to stay and eat with them.
Then, as he breaks the bread and blesses it, the disciples finally see—they understand fully that the story of Christ—of God’s work on earth—is not done, but only just begun.
Resurrection people, to find salvation—to fully understand the hope that is in the community of God and Jesus Christ—we must keep moving. And in order to keep moving, we need Easter minds and Easter eyes, attuned senses to the workings of the Divine in the world. We must remember, friends, all God has done and all God is capable of doing.
In Pope Francis’ final homily—his Easter message—may he rest in peace—he said as much himself.
Jesus “has risen from the dead and therefore is no longer in the tomb. We must look for him elsewhere. This is the message of Easter: we must look for him elsewhere. Christ is risen, he is alive! He is no longer a prisoner of death, he is no longer wrapped in the shroud, and therefore we cannot confine him to a fairy tale, we cannot make him a hero of the ancient world, or think of him as a statue in a museum! On the contrary, we must look for him and this is why we cannot remain stationary. We must take action, set out to look for him: look for him in life, look for him in the faces of our brothers and sisters, look for him in everyday business, look for him everywhere except in the tomb.”
In other words, we must leave the mourning behind and embrace those Easter eyes, remembering where we came from and where we are headed.
As Pastor Kate said, I serve full-time as the Communications Manager at Georgia Interfaith Power and Light, also known as GIPL—we’re a faith-based environmental nonprofit. This past Tuesday was Earth Day, and today we are worshipping outside. I may be a little biased, but one of the easiest ways to see and remember that God is still alive and at work in the world is to look at the bees and the trees, the butterflies and the ants—God’s living Creation all around us.
Wildfires can be incredibly devastating. We saw this recently in California. But did you know that many trees, like the lodgepole pine, can use the heat of raging fires to reproduce? The high heat unseals the thick resin around their cones and makes them ready to reseed whole swaths of charred land after the fire is gone.
Even in loss, God finds a way to create life. This is the Easter story.
Many grasses are also resilient. Have you noticed how they stick together when you pick up a lump in your yard or on the playground? Weaving their roots together, grasses build a strong network that can withstand even the most insane storms, tornadoes, and natural disasters.
Insects, too, are fascinating. For being so small, they are so hardy.
If an anthill is destroyed in a flood or bad rainstorm, those tiny insects don’t skip a beat! They start rebuilding their homes and cities almost immediately. And they each know what they have to do.
Another beautiful example is monarch butterflies, which migrate to survive the cold of winter. But did you know this—it’s not the individual butterflies that are surviving. No, no singular monarch butterfly completes a full migration. Monarchs carry a multigenerational story of survival and salvation. Not too dissimilar from our own.
Sometimes resilience means trusting others to carry forward what we begin. Not everyone is going to see everything through, but if we keep moving and work together, we will see wholeness and community.
Language about God, our Creator, is sprinkled throughout life, and stories of resurrection and healing are everywhere. If we can see how God is actively at work in the healing of the earth, we as resurrection people might also feel called to be people of healing for the earth.
Note how the disciples, after recognizing Jesus, got up right then—not in five minutes, not after they finished their food, not after they had taken their siesta—right then, scripture says, and returned to Jerusalem not only proclaiming the resurrection but also how Christ is made known in the world.
As we look to building new homes and houses of worship (I know you all are considering that here, am I right?), might we consider how we can take lessons from nature and make our faith communities more sustainable?
I've seen Christ's presence this month made known at neighboring pan-Methodist faith communities. United Methodist and African Methodist Episcopal congregations from Columbus to Dunwoody, Decatur to LaGrange, are working to become resiliency hubs for their communities. They're installing solar and EV charging, so when disasters strike, they can help provide for their neighbors, offering refrigeration for people’s medication, and electricity for their phones and vehicles. They are hedging against rising energy bills and are able to funnel less into overhead and more into mission and ministry.
Sandy Springs, have you noticed you're bound by interstates and waterways?
According to Drawdown Georgia, our state has nearly 90,000 miles of public roads. And in 2021, vehicles accounted for about 41% of Georgia’s greenhouse gas emissions—our single largest source. Cars and buses running on fossil fuels contribute to growing rates of asthma, respiratory illness, and disease among our most vulnerable—children and older adults.
What would it look like if Sandy Springs UMC became models and leaders in the community, advocating for cleaner transportation to protect senior living facilities and schools?
When we help the Earth, we help our neighbors.
The Chattahoochee River, which runs right back here, supplies 70% of metro Atlanta’s drinking water. Did you know that? When we participate in local river cleanups and do things as simple as stopping our dogs from defecating along the water’s edge, we help protect water quality for people and wildlife. We encourage recreation and support a thriving ecosystem for humans, plants, and animals.
And it all starts with Easter eyes—seeing what could be, if we look up and around. God is at work in the healing of the earth, and God is inviting us into healing as well.
As mentioned on the bulletin cover and at the start of this sermon, this series on Resurrection, you all are calling Defying Gravity. This is based on the award-winning musical (and now movie) Wicked. How many of you have seen the show or the film?
In this most famous song from the show, singers from Idina Menzel to Cynthia Erivo boldly declare:
Too late for second-guessing
Too late to go back to sleep
It's time to trust my instincts
Close my eyes and leap
If I were to offer a rewrite for Stephen Schwartz (a bold move I know), I might say: it’s time to trust my God, open my eyes, and leap.
Because if we keep moving, with eyes lifted to what is possible with the Divine, we too will be, as Elphaba, the lead in the show, belts, Unlimited. Together, we'll be unlimited.
Yes, the journey is long, and no one said it would be easy. But God is here. God is there. God is everywhere, if we keep looking.
“I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help.
My help cometh from the Lord…” (Psalm 121:1-2 KJV)
Hold onto those Easter eyes! Jesus is no longer in the tomb. Christ is alive and well in the world!
