The Easter story continues to unfold on this, the third Sunday in Eastertide, as we used to say. Eastertide. Easter Season. It takes more than one Sunday, glorious as it always is to be sure, for the truth and power of new Resurrection life to begin to dawn in our hearts and minds, let alone to change us and set us free!

This morning, we pick up the story in the Gospel of Luke. The small group of disciples with whom Jesus had journeyed to Emmaus, and to whom he had opened the Scripture, and who had known him in the breaking of bread, this same small group has now returned to Jerusalem. They have found the other disciples and followers and proclaimed: "The Lord has risen indeed and has appeared to Simon!"

In the very next moment, Jesus himself stands among them and says "Peace be with you." Imagine! Again, he is present in their midst. How might they feel at this moment? Do they rejoice? Do they burst out in song? Their beloved Jesus stands among them in his risen power and says, "Peace be with you." Do they reply, "And also with you," as we do in the opening of the communion liturgy? Oh, no!

The text says that they were "startled and terrified and thought that they were seeing a ghost." Somehow, on the road from Emmaus back to Jerusalem, they have another major flip-flop from faith to doubt. They want to believe, but everything in them tells them it can't possibly be true. As we said on Easter morning, they are still filled with "heresies of hope."

Aren't they perfect role models of Christian discipleship for us? Don't we do the same thing in our own journeys of faith, flip-flopping from faith to doubt and back-sometimes in the same day moving from certainty to cynicism, from hopefulness to hopelessness, from awe and wonder to sarcastic pessimism? Aren't there moments when our faith seems clear and then something happens, we go around another curve in the road, and faith seems to evaporate and leave us empty and alone?

To us, as to those first disciples, Jesus will come, again and again, and stand among us in his risen power, and say to us, "Peace be with you."

In fact, I believe that Jesus loves them all the more for their doubt, and by extension, us as well. For how does he respond? He doesn't berate them or make fun of them or stomp out of the room, slamming the door because they're so stupid, so slow to see. He loves them. He teaches them. He honors their doubt, takes it seriously. It's like the fifth-grader who goes up to the teacher and says, "I don't believe anything my parents tell me." And the wise teacher says, "Great. Sounds to me like you're starting to think for yourself."

Jesus says, " 'Why are you frightened and why do doubts arise in your hearts? Look at my hands and my feet; see that it is I myself. Touch me and see; for a ghost does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have.' And when he had said this, he showed them his hands and his feet. While in their joy they were disbelieving and still wondering, he said to them, 'Have you anything here to eat?' They gave him a piece of broiled fish, and he took it and ate in their presence."

We've come full circle. They had eaten in his presence at Emmaus and there they sensed his living presence with them in the breaking of bread. Now he eats in their presence and their knowing deepens, even though, as the text reads, "in their joy they were disbelieving and still wondering."

This kind of faith may seem totally contradictory to many people, including some among us who might feel that being a true Christian means being 200% certain 100% of the time. And there are different ways and styles of having faith to be sure. The saints of old and the saints among us are constantly teaching us how to have deeper faith in the midst of the things that confound us and threaten to do us in.

Luke's story of the doubting and fearful disciples and of Jesus' love and compassion for them is a gospel gift to all those among us who just really aren't sure sometimes, who question, who wonder, who may go for long dry spells of doubt and disbelief. It's OK. Jesus loves the doubters, too, and especially for those doubting times, offers his profound, holy peace.

In the midst of exceeding joy, we can have questions. We can pursue those things we're not quite sure about openly, right in God's face. We can be startled and terrified and doubting . . . and know that the love of God through Jesus Christ will simply invite us to touch and see, and will ask that we gather together and eat.

There have been many people of faith through the ages who have embraced this particular style of being a follower of the Christ, part of the company of the people of the Way. The German systematic theologian Paul Tillich said something to the effect that doubt is not the opposite of faith, but an element of faith, that doubt goes hand-in-hand with faith.

Our own confirmands have been quite open about their faith and their doubt, as only eighth-graders can, with those of us who have been privileged to spend some time with them as they prepare to become members of the church.

The author Lillian Smith put it like this: "Faith and doubt, both are needed-not as antagonists, but working side-by-side-to take us around the unknown curve."

"Faith and doubt . . . working side-by-side, to take us around the unknown curve." In this state of doubting faith and of faithing doubt, Christ invites all of us-wherever we find ourselves this morning-to eat together, he with us and us with him.

Last week, for Heritage Sunday, Greg Batson taught us some things about the founder of Methodism, John Wesley. Many of you were very appreciative of that sermon and of the insights you gained from it about who we are as United Methodists and what we believe. In that same spirit, I want to lift up some of Wesley's very firm convictions about Holy Communion or the Lord's Supper.

Wesley wanted his Methodist people to participate in the Lord's Supper at least once a week, every Sunday. For him, it was literally indispensable in the Christian life and part of the disciplined pattern of Christian living that got us that derogatory name "Methodist" in the first place. Wesley urged his followers to prepare carefully and faithfully to receive the Sacrament, starting with evening devotions on Thursday, continuing through one's prayers and devotions on Friday, Saturday and early Sunday morning before coming to receive. That's a lot of prayer time focused on God's love for us in Christ Jesus!

Wesley firmly believed that Christ is present with us, for us, to us when we share in this Holy Meal. Looking back, we remember his redeeming work for us with such humility and gratitude that we experience his saving grace anew in our lives here and now. And looking forward, we anticipate the joy of the heavenly banquet, when all will be fulfilled in joy and peace. Our lives are made whole and holy by what has been and what will be.

And for Wesley, you see, where Christ is, anything can happen! Grace abounds. And that is why we Methodists always say that this table is open to all who are sincere in their desire to live as faithful followers of Christ Jesus. This meal is given to us by Christ, sinners that we all are. Less than perfect, less than whole. Aware of our brokenness and need. Like the apostle Paul, "grieved by the things we have done that we ought not to have done and things we ought to have done that we did not do."

Christ is present here, present among us in his risen power, wounds and all. Not a ghost. Not a fantasy, not a vain hope. It is the risen Lord! The power that rolled away the stone and raised Christ from the dead is available here for each one of us, grace abundant to fill our every need.

The Easter story continues to unfold. It is Eastertide. Easter Season. It takes more than one Sunday for the truth and power of new Resurrection life to begin to dawn in our hearts and minds, let alone to change us and set us free! Every time we come to this table, every time we lift up our hearts to greet the Risen Lord, every time we hear him saying to us: "Peace be with you!" Every time we taste this bread and drink from this cup, every time we feel his love embracing the best and the worst of who we are, every time his grace pours over us through this Sacrament, every time we know our sins to be forgiven, every time we catch a glimpse of the power of new life, every time he offers peace in the midst of questions and doubt . . . every time . . . 1he rises, again and again, he rises. Come, people of God, to the feast prepared for you. Take, eat, drink, in remembrance that Christ has died for you, and feed on him in your hearts by faith.

Christ is risen. He is risen indeed!

© Patricia E. Farris, 2003. Permission is given for brief quotation with attribution. All other rights reserved.