Hope Filled Fools

Easter 3a, May 8, 2011 (Also Mother's Day)

Luke 24:13-35. Key verse ("We had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel")

We had hoped: "We had hoped that everything would be OK- that the tests would come back negative – no cancer." She was speaking of her husband of over 40 years. But she couldn't completely separate him from herself. Her face was awash with tears. She went on, "We just received the test results and... they are positive. He has cancer. Oh God, if only it weren't so!"

 

We had hoped: "We had hoped that we could live and enjoy our retirement for a long time. That's why we went out and bought this new rig – a fabulous motor home. We did get to go on one trip. It was great! But only one trip. We returned home late last night. Jim went out this morning to change the oil in the rig. In only a few moments he returned, saying he felt ill. He laid down for a nap, and (she began to sob) he never woke up. Two weeks of retirement together – that's all we had. We had hoped .. for more."

 

I have hoped for peace in the Middle East, not in some abstract way, as if, wouldn't that be nice for those people? No! I have hoped for peace in a very specific way. While living there I became friends with Joseph, a young Palestinian. He is a teacher. He instructs employing 3 languages, Arabic, Hebrew and English. He has longed his entire life when all the people: the people in his village, the people in the neighboring Kibbutz and the variety of people in the nearby town could actually care for and about each other just as they are. He yearns to live long enough to see the hatred between different groups end. So too does Malcha, the young Israeli woman who lives only meters away from Joseph's village. So, they speak to each other. They visit with their friends, modelling acceptance, working for understanding and new ways of relating that bridge the gaps of generations of misunderstanding, wrongdoing and hatred. They still have hope, even though many of their aspirations have been blown to bits.  

 

Do you hope?

 

Some people have hoped. They wished that certain things would happen, could happen. But now – those wishes, their "hopes" have been dashed. The person or people they had hoped for or in, hadn't measured up to their expectations. Or, the circumstances they had dreamed about  - a promotion, a graduation, a job, a relationship they so desperately wanted, never happened or somehow ended.  Now they are deeply disappointed. They have given up on their wishes. They no longer dare hope.

 

The early followers of Jesus also had hope. When they met Jesus, travelled with him, observed him, they thought, "Finally! Here is the One  to free our country from these Roman oppressors. If we follow him, we will no longer have to answer to others. We will be free! So, they follow him.

 

And Jesus did amazing things. He ate with people few if anyone else would eat with. He touched and aided in healing people whom most others felt were beyond help. Sometimes he fed many hungry people at once. His love was genuine. He was fearless. In a simple but profound way he was pure. They had never met anyone else like Jesus.

 

So, their wishes, yes even their hope had grown. But then, Jesus had been framed. Taken by the guards, head been falsely tried and executed. He had hung on that cross like a mute dog, even as he was tortured. His voice had barely been raised, except to cry, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"

 

Of course their truth was that they too had mostly abandoned him, forsaken him.

 

Now they can't stop talking about it. Their pain and disappointment, their sadness overflows even to this "stranger" who walks beside them. Incredibly he seems to know nothing of their Jesus nor of Jesus' death. So they tell him the entire story including the reality of their "hopes" which now were dashed, blown to smitherines. They too say, "We had hoped". Then I suspect their voices fell off.  

 

Tragically, many today have zero hope. Surveying, experiencing the disappointment of human existence: broken promises, so-called "irreconcilable" differences that surface among human beings and different groups, many have accepted the reality of brokenness, misunderstanding and even hatred as the ongoing power, the dominant forces of life. They think and feel that's the way things have been, are and forever will be. Such people then refuse to believe that anything or anyone can be changed or become different in any significant way.

 

Are our differences, our misunderstandings, our grave disappointments and pain what dominate you?

 

How about that "stranger"? Does he ever come along side you? We might think that's all there are – strangers, someone others have talked about, even one who may or may not exist. Or we may have come to the conclusion that no one can really understand the things in our lives, those things that matter so much. But then one day or one night, when we least expect it, He encounters us. It may even be while we are eating seemingly ordinary bread, or when we have thought that we have absolutely everything we need or nothing that we need that He encounters us. In that moment our eyes are opened. We begin to see him – to see truth not in an abstract way, but in a profoundly personal, all encompassing way.

 

To be sure Jesus has died. Our hopes, our dreams, our wishes, if we ever had any, have been dashed again and again. But, Jesus comes to the middle of our living, our pain, our anger, our fear even our despair. He comes, not as One who is dead, but as One who has died, who has suffered, who is alive. Jesus comes, God in the flesh. Jesus says to you, to us, in a variety of ways, "I Love you. You are mine!"

 

Then He embraces us, sometimes in a very physical visible way, but often in ways that are real, but which may not be visible to the physical eye, in ways that defy mere explanation or logic. He lives with us, among us. He comes very aware of the death, destruction, hatred and jealousy that run amok in our lives. They are real. But so is He. He has died. He is alive. And because He lives we too can live in the midst of whatever is happening with hope. Because He loves even those who took his life and tortured him, we too can be moved beyond hatred to love. Death and all of its forms do not, cannot control us as Christ meets us.

 

The last word, the controlling word is not death, nor despair, nor even "irreconcilable differences". Christ is the ongoing Word to us and for us, the very Word of God.

 

So, what are we doing? How are your living?

 

Will we dare to hope in the face of all that shatters us, our wishes, our dreams, our supposed reasons for living? Will we live now experiencing the presence and power of the One who has died but who lives, Jesus Himself?

 

Or, will we throw in the towel, struggling simply to keep on keeping on, as if there is no hope?

 

Are our eyes opened, our minds receiving? Do we see that even now Christ is risen? (He is risen indeed! Alleluia!) Amen.