Texts: Acts 2:14a, 36-41; 1 Peter 1:17-23; Luke 24:13-35
Next week we will be concentrating on the two great sacraments of the Christian Church – baptism (and confirmation) and the Eucharist; and we will be doing so in the context of this Easter Season. And today our readings give us an excellent excuse for a review of all that we will be celebrating in that special service. In our first reading we have the very words that the Bishop will use in setting the background for our baptism, and in our Gospel reading we have the very actions that the priest performs in the celebration of the Eucharist. To complete the trifecta, as it were, our second reading gives us the connection between Easter, and our own commitment to the Christian life, which is the central principle of confirmation.
So let's start with baptism, and with the completion of Peter's so-called 'Pentecost sermon', which we have in our first lesson this morning. We often hear fierce debates over who was really responsible for Jesus' death – and history is full of terrible examples of anti-Semitism based on the allegations that 'the Jews' killed him. There is certainly considerable Scriptural support for the charge that the Jewish religious leaders instigated his death, which was authorised by the Roman authorities.
But that's not the issue Peter is dealing with here. Throughout this sermon, given by Peter on the Day of Pentecost, he has been even more blunt than usual. He says to them, more than once, you killed him, you nailed him to a tree, you crucified him. Now we might have expected a furious and violent reaction to this from the crowd. But today we hear their response. Peter has convinced them of their guilt. They are mortified, and ask what on earth they can do – (implicitly) to make amends.
These aren't the powerful elite, Jewish or Roman, whom we might accuse of putting Jesus to death. These are ordinary people, with no power beyond that of the mob who frightened Pilate so badly that he allowed the crucifixion to go ahead even though he couldn't find any fault in Jesus. Yet these ordinary, largely powerless people accept responsibility for Jesus' death. What on earth could have convinced them of the truth of Peter's charge against them?
My guess is, the resurrection. It is the resurrection that has transformed Peter (and the other disciples) from a demoralised bunch of no-hopers (literally no-hopers!) into courageous and convincing preachers; and it is the resurrection, surely, that now convinces the crowd that they have got things badly wrong. But can we plead in their defence, they have got things wrong through ignorance and not by their own deliberate fault? I think we can. The whole issue for them, as it is for us today, is the issue of Jesus' true identity. If he is the Messiah, the Son of God, the Christ, God Incarnate, then they have indeed got things horribly wrong. But right up until the resurrection, they never believed Jesus was who he claimed to be.
And if he was not who he claimed to be, then by Jewish law he certainly deserved death. If he was not who he claimed to be, then his claims constituted the most terrible blasphemy imaginable; and any faithful Jew would have been justified in agreeing to his execution. But now, seemingly too late, the awful truth has dawned on these poor people, and they are horrified at what they have done. They cry out to Peter, 'what shall we do?'. And perhaps they expect the answer, 'there is nothing you can do, it's too late for you. You had the same chance as the rest of us, but you blew it.' But of course that's not the answer he gives. It is simple and clear: 'Repent and be baptised.'
And there in essence is what baptism is all about for most of us. Most of us are like those people in the crowd. We have not led a particularly wicked life; we have not murdered, raped, or embezzled millions of dollars. But many of us have got it wrong about God. during some stage of our lives. Many of us have had a time when we did not believe in God, or we did not believe in Jesus Christ other than as a purely historical figure. But then we have come to realise our mistake – we have come to realise that we got it wrong about God, about Christ. And we have had to change our whole mindset, the way in which we look at reality. We had turned our backs on the whole 'God-thing', and now we have to turn around and face in the opposite direction. That's what repentance is.
And when we have reached that stage it is time to be baptised, to accept that with God it is never too late to start afresh. Repent and be baptised, said Peter to those people who, two thousand years ago, had got it wrong about God. And today, and next Sunday, the message is and always will be the same.
The essential problem is always the same – recognising the true identity of Jesus of Nazareth. And we see this wonderfully illustrated for us in St Luke's classic account of the encounter on the road to Emmaus. Cleopas and his unnamed companion are trudging along the road, with very mixed emotions. Partly they are still sunk in the gloom of Good Friday; but, as it soon becomes clear, they are also thoroughly confused by the first reports of the resurrection.
As they walk along deep in discussion the Risen Christ joins them, but St Luke says, 'they were kept from'. He doesn't say by whom or by what they were kept from recognising him. Perhaps we are to understand that some angelic or spiritual intervention was at work here, but it is difficult to see why that might be the will of God. Why would God want to keep these two followers from Christ from discovering the good news of his resurrection?
More likely, they were kept from recognising Jesus from their own misunderstanding of the Scriptures, and their own experience of Jesus among them before his death. They had recognised him as a prophet, 'powerful in word and deed before God and all the people'. They had even dared to hope that he might have been the long-promised Messiah, the one who was going to redeem Israel. But then came his death, so that seemed to be the end of that. And yet…
They have heard the women's account of finding the tomb empty, and seeing a vision of angels who said that Jesus is alive, although the women didn't actually see him. At that point, perhaps, they sank into silence, being unsure, being even a little embarrassed to talk about empty tombs and angelic visions with this unknown stranger who seems to be so out of touch with recent events.
Jesus then takes over and begins by helping them to a new understanding of the Scriptures, which, for them, of course, means the Hebrew Scriptures, the Old Testament. They had got it wrong about Jesus precisely because they had not understood the role the Messiah was to play when he came. He was to come, not as some all-conquering military hero, but as a suffering servant, who would be killed and then raised to life on the third day.
But the penny didn't drop for them at that point. It was only when they were seated with him at the supper table, and Jesus took bread, gave thanks, broke it, and gave it to them that the penny dropped. And St Luke is so determined that it will drop for us, too, that he spells it out twice in this passage. They recognised him in the breaking of the bread, or, as we would put it today, in the Eucharist.
And as soon as the penny had dropped, they forgot it was dark outside; they abandoned their meal and set off at once for Jerusalem, which, we have already been told, was about seven miles away. There they shared their good news with the other disciples who shared theirs with them.
So today, when we have once again recognised Jesus, risen and alive, in the Eucharist we will share shortly, all we have to do is running away home and tell our families, friends and neighbours our food news. That's part of the life to which we are committed through our baptism and our confirmation. As our second lesson makes clear today, that commitment involves other thing, too.
But I'll leave that for the Bishop to talk about next week.
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