April 19, 2026
The Third Sunday of Easter – Mark S. Winward
When [Jesus] was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him; and he vanished from their sight. They said to each other, “Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road…”
– Luke 23:30-32
The Road to Emmaus
Have you ever been so caught up with your own problems that you missed what was happening right in front of you? I certainly have. It happens to all of us: we become so hyper-focused on a particular problem or task that we become oblivious to the world around us. Much of this stems from the fact that we simply don’t expect the unexpected. We look for what we assume will be there, and when something – or someone – extraordinary appears, our preoccupied minds fail to register it.
Jesus met his followers on the road to Emmaus in a completely unexpected way. For these travelers, the news of the empty tomb simply wasn’t enough. To them, the idea of a dead person coming back to life was as ridiculous as it is to us – perhaps even more so. In the ancient world, death was far more visible and visceral. There were no sanitized hospitals where people passed away quietly behind curtains; people saw life end in the streets and in the home. They watched women die in childbirth and saw the horrific trauma of a Roman execution. Having witnessed the torturous death of Jesus just days prior, only seeing him risen with their own eyes would be sufficient to bridge the gap between grief and belief.
This is what actually gives the story its “ring of truth.” Cleopas and his companion were so unwilling to believe that they were eventually “dressed down” by Jesus himself. If the early Church had been fabricating this story, it is highly unlikely they would include details that highlighted the followers’ lack of faith or stupidity. As the 19th-century legal scholar Simon Greenleaf noted, these accounts lack the polished signs of fabrication. A true witness is often artless and disdains calculated effects. This story has exactly that raw, unpolished tone.
The Mystery of Recognition
The Gospel writer describes their initial unbelief with a puzzling phrase: “…their eyes were kept from recognizing him.” For whatever reason, these two followers either couldn’t or wouldn’t see Jesus for who he was. Scholars have speculated on this for centuries. Perhaps the late afternoon sun was in their eyes, or perhaps Jesus wore a hood to conceal his face. Others suggest his resurrected body was dramatically different from his earthly one, while some believe God supernaturally clouded their vision, perhaps as he had once hardened the heart of Pharaoh.
The answer likely lies in a combination of these factors. God has a habit of expressing the extraordinary through the ordinary, and there’s no reason to believe he didn’t do the same here. It’s no accident that Jesus was finally revealed to them only when he sat down with them and broke bread. In the ancient world, the table was the ultimate place of fellowship – even more so than today. Throughout Luke’s Gospel, the table is where Jesus is heard and where people come to know him most personally.
The point is clear: Jesus reveals himself to us – he becomes most real to us – in the context of intimacy. This’s why faith is so important: we can’t truly know Christ unless we risk opening our hearts to him. The fact is: God doesn’t always arrive as lightning flashing across the sky. Instead, Luke suggests Jesus makes himself known in the basic, routine moments of life. He appears when we least expect him, making himself at home in the midst of our everyday chores and quiet walks. When we remain attentive to his presence throughout the day, we find that over the years, he becomes woven into the very fabric of our lives.
The Symbol of Breaking Bread
The act of breaking bread with Christ is a powerful symbol that we continue to celebrate in the Eucharist every week. Consider the feelings the smell of fresh bread evokes. If you grew up in a home where bread was baked in the kitchen, that scent is the smell of home itself. It’s why real estate agents often bake cookies before an open house; for those blessed with a nurturing upbringing, the aroma evokes peace, safety, and love.
You can’t miss the power of this symbol. Bread is the universal sign of “going home.” For the believer, it is also the symbol of Christ. In the bread, we see, touch, and taste something that tangibly and physically connects to Jesus. It is a holy, intimate moment where we connect with the divine through the mundane. And it serves as a physical reminder of our eventual heavenly home.
Conclusion
Jesus has a habit of showing up when he is least expected. He freely enters into a relationship with anyone who will welcome him, replacing their lingering fears with a burning hope. He is the master of revealing the extraordinary in the heart of the ordinary.
The catch, of course, is that you have to be looking – and you have to know who you are looking for. That leads to a vital question: Do you merely know about Christ, or do you truly know Christ? To know him is to walk with him, listen to his words, and enter into his fellowship.
As you leave this place today on your own road with our risen Lord, I pray each of you will catch the smell of the bread.
April 12, 2026
2nd Sunday of Easter – Byron Tindall
The reading for today from John’s Gospel takes place on the evening of that first Easter. John doesn’t say who all was there, just that Thomas wasn’t with them. The term “disciples” includes followers other than just the 11 or 10 without Thomas.
Regardless of the number of disciples present, I would love to have been the proverbial fly on the wall in order to eavesdrop on the conversation. I can just hear it now.
“What happened?” What’s going on?” “I heard some of the women said they’ve seen Him.” “I’m scared!” “It can’t be true that He isn’t dead, can it?” “I’m confused.” “Peter and the one Jesus loved saw the empty tomb.” I just wish John had recorded at least a little bit of the discussion.
At any rate, John wrote that Jesus suddenly, without fanfare, appeared in the midst of them. After giving His peace to them, Jesus gave them their marching orders and then he showed them his hands and his feet. He then bestows the Holy Spirit on them.
At this point, we need to ask the question, “Is this John’s version of the Christian Pentecost?” It is vastly different from Luke’s account as recorded in the second chapter of the Acts of the Apostles. The Day of Pentecost was the Greek term for the Jewish Feast of Weeks, so named because it fell on the 50th day following the ceremony of the barley sheaf during the Passover celebration.
April 5, 2026
Easter Day – Mark S Winward
The Easter Acclamation and Welcome
We Episcopalians are known for our worship being conducted “properly and in good order.” Today is a bit different; today we celebrate the risen Christ! It’s OK this morning to join in the Easter response with spirit and gusto as if your hometown team won the championships!
“Alleluia! Christ is risen!”
[The congregation responds: “The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia!”]
Well, that is quite good for this early on a Sunday morning! Now, I realize that there are many people who do not make it to church every Sunday—perhaps only twice a year. I once heard those who fall into that category referred to as CEOs. I don’t mean Chief Executive Officers, though I suspect we have a few of those here as well. In this context, it stands for “Christmas and Easter Onlys.” Whether you are a CEO, an infrequent attendee, or a regular, please know that we are absolutely delighted to have you here this beautiful Easter morning.
The Human Need for Victory
Throughout the country today, churches and chapels are packed. Have you ever wondered why people flock to church, at least on these major holidays? In his book The Jesus I Never Knew, Philip Yancey suggests that at a fundamental level, we as humans want—no, we need—this story to be true.
April 4, 2026
The Great Vigil of Easter – Mark S Winward
The Easter Proclamation
Alleluia. Christ is risen! [The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia!]
Let’s try that again. Alleluia. Christ is risen! [The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia!]
Just one more time. Alleluia. Christ is risen! [The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia!]
That acclamation is known all over the world, and it lies deep at the heart of our identity as Christians.
The Unextinguishable Faith
Around 1930, the Communist leader Nikolai Bukharin traveled from Moscow to Kiev to address a massive assembly. His purpose was to prove the validity of a central tenet of his party: atheism. For a solid hour, he hurled ridicule and every argument he could muster against the “superstitious” faith of the people. Finally, he finished and paused to survey what he assumed were the smoldering ashes of their faith. “Are there any questions?” Bukharin smugly demanded.
A solitary, courageous man arose and asked permission to speak. He mounted the platform and moved close to the Communist leader. The audience was breathlessly silent as the man surveyed them—first to the right, then to the left. At last, he shouted the ancient Orthodox greeting: “CHRIST IS RISEN!” The vast assembly arose as one, and the response came crashing like a literal avalanche: “HE IS RISEN INDEED!”
The Holy Fire of Jerusalem
Every Easter in the Eastern Orthodox Church,