Abide with Us
Original sermon given on The Third Sunday of Easter, April 19, 2026 written and delivered by Pastor Jeff Leininger at First Saint Paul’s Lutheran Church.
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“Abide with Us”
Luke 24.13-35
In the name of the Living God and His risen Christ. Amen.
They are physically distraught, these two walking west out of Jerusalem on the road to Emmaus. You can see it in their faces: sadness, confusion, and now bewilderment over the dramatic events of the past few days. They are debating with one another about what all this could possibly mean. When Jesus, having joined them on their journey, asks them what they’re talking about, they stop dead in their tracks. In part amazed that there could be someone who hasn’t heard of these events; but perhaps also overwhelmed at all of it themselves.
These two – Cleopas and perhaps St. Luke, himself (although we aren’t given his name) – these two disciples knew Jesus. They had been taught by him, seen his power in work and word, learned of his bloody death by crucifixion, and had even hoped that he would be the redemption of Israel. And now they have heard the Easter story itself: the women could not find his body; the angels proclaim his resurrection; and Peter and John find the tomb empty, as it was told them.
All this they sputter out, while not recognizing Jesus standing right next to them. What I find most remarkable about this account is that these two disciples have all the facts right. Everything they relate is true, and is, in content, the gospel message. And yet, they do not believe. They have all the facts, but not faith. To ask yourself how this might be is to ask perhaps the most important question you can ask. You see, they do not believe, because they do not recognize the presence of the Living Messiah, walking with them on their journey. That, in the end, is the difference between knowing fact and walking by faith; of having the information about Jesus, verses believing he’s right there walking along side you.
As he had done with his disciples so often before, Jesus rather rebukes their ignorance. How many times had he told them that the messiah must be delivered over into the hands of sinful men, be crucified, and on the third day be raised again!? How often had he cautioned that his redemption of Israel would not result in a glorious earthly kingdom of this world, but would be a kingdom of sacrifice, and whips and thorns and the glory of the cross drawing all to himself!? But even more than their slow minds, Jesus reprimands their slow hearts: “O foolish ones, and slow of heart to believe.” Here, the image is of their hearts being like ancient ships, but their sails empty of wind sluggishly drifting along; or of a sluggish runner, loitering about rather than sprinting towards the finish. We’ve got both sailors and sprinters (runners) in this congregation, so you know what Jesus’ describes. This is what it means that they do not believe all that the Law and Prophets say concerning him: their minds dull, their hearts sluggish, their eyes shut.
But Jesus has entered their road and joined them on their journey. And as he unlocks the scriptures and breaks the bread, their minds are unlocked, the sails of their hearts filled, and their eyes are opened to not just the information of the gospel, but to the truth of the gospel: that this Jesus before them is, indeed, their messiah; that he was nailed to the cross for their sins; that he rose on the third day for their eternal victory; and that he has promised to walk with them on their journey.
Brothers and Sisters, by the power of the Holy Spirit, the Living Christ walks with us today as well. His presence with us in word and sacrament means that, not only are we to know the information of the gospel (which even the demons know), but we are called to believe that it is for us, today. At whatever stage on our journey, or whatever season in life. Faith says not just, “he was crucified…” but he was crucified for me. My sins placed upon him and in him. Faith says not just, “that tomb was empty” but that tomb was empty for me, and now, because he has risen from the dead my eternity is secure in him. Faith says not just “the angels proclaimed it” but rather, I sing and celebrate together with the angels the glorious message of Christ conquering death. This, ultimately, is what it means to have our minds enlightened, our hearts filled with the wind of the Spirit, and our eyes opened to the presence of the Living Christ. That the message is for us too.
This message of Jesus walking with us on our journey is particularly meaningful, I know, for our confirmands and new members this morning. Some of you I know very well; others I’m hoping to get to know even better. But for all of you (indeed, all of us), the journey to Emmaus says important things about our own journey.
First, there are two walking together, discovering it together. This is a reminder that none of us come to recognize Jesus alone, by ourselves. Many companions will join you before the altar this morning, who have walked with you and now will pray over you. And perhaps you can join someone else on their journey too.
That’s one of the things which is drawing so many young people back to church in our nation: community. In one way, we’re more connected than ever through the internet and social media; but in another way, we’re lonelier than we ever have been. The road to Emmaus reminds us that we need to walk with others on our journey of faith. Don’t walk it alone. Don’t let someone else walk it alone.
Secondly, it is no coincidence that they recognize the presence of the Living Christ in the breaking of the bread. Commentators from the earliest of times have regarded this as reference to Holy Communion. For most of you being confirmed today, you’ll know that I usually start with the biblical (Lutheran) teaching of the real presence of Christ in, with and under the bread and wine. There are lots of things we’ll wonder about with God. Lots of times we can’t feel his presence, or we’ll question it, or wonder why he seems too far away. But here’s a holy moment, a sacred instance where by his own word he’s promised to be there. They recognized he was with them in the breaking of the bread.
Lastly, as all our new members this morning know (and if you don’t, you surely will), there will be times when, like the two on the road, our eyes are held back from recognizing Jesus walking with us. Sometimes the grief is too hard, or the world too shocking and confusing, or our own hearts too full of guilt and shame, or our minds racing with regrets about the past, or anxieties about the future. And because of all this, we’re held from seeing Jesus, right there, walking with us on our journey.
When this happens, remember this: we don’t worship a dead rabbi, but a living Lord. Centuries-old prophecies beginning with Moses, and the Psalms and the Prophets all point to this one truth that the Messiah would die for the world, rise again defeating death and hell, and pour out his Spirit upon all nations. If this is true, can’t it also be true that he’s still walking with you, no matter what you’re facing today?
Abide with us Lord, for it is evening and the day is almost over; abide with us in the revelation of your scriptures and in your sacraments; abide with us in the sad, confused and bewildered times of our lives; abide with us through every trial of body or mind; abide with us at the hour of our death; abide with us, Lord, even unto eternal life.
Come soon Lord Jesus. Amen.
