Living the Abundant Life

Jesu Juva

John 10:10; Acts 2:42                                          

April 26, 2026

Easter 4A            

Dear saints of our Savior~

        It’s the fourth Sunday of Easter, and around here that always means “Good Shepherd Sunday.”  Jesus the Good Shepherd.  Jesus the door of the sheep.  Jesus who calls His sheep by name—and leads them and feeds them in green pastures beside quiet waters.  The King of Love my Shepherd is.  It’s all very comforting, isn’t it? 

        In today’s gospel reading Jesus explains what it means to have Him as our good shepherd:  I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.  Jesus comes to bring us life; and not just life, but “abundant” life. The abundant life is resurrection life—life that lasts forever—eternal life that comes as a gift to all those who believe in Jesus Christ.

        But this abundant life isn’t only a gift for the future.  It’s not something we have to wait around for.  It’s already yours—a present possession. The abundant life is life lived in the presence of the Good Shepherd—life that is served by the Savior with His good gifts.  The abundant life has Jesus at its heart and center. 

        Today’s reading from Acts chapter two shows us what the abundant life looks like. It shows us what life was like in the church way back in the beginning—during the days right after Pentecost—back when everything was new and fresh, before problems and persecutions arose.  The first sentence of today’s first reading tells the whole story.  It summarizes the abundant life enjoyed by those very first followers of Jesus:  They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.

        When St. Luke wrote that they “devoted themselves” to these things, the Holy Spirit inspired Him to choose a powerful verb to express what was happening.  That they “devoted themselves” means that they were obstinately, passionately persisting in these things.  They were into these things with all their hearts.  These things were the center of life for the very first followers of Jesus.  All of them—from the greatest to the least—all of them devoted themselves—to what?—to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.

        First and foremost, they devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching—to doctrine.  Today we hear complaints about how doctrine divides people—that we shouldn’t get too caught up in doctrinal details.  Just make sure everyone believes in Jesus and call it a day!  Not so for the first followers of Jesus!  Doctrine didn’t divide them; it united them.  What the apostles were preaching and teaching was the glue that held them all together despite a diversity of cultures and classes and languages.  It wasn’t politics that united them.  It wasn’t demographics that brought them together.  It was the preaching and teaching of the apostles. 

        That’s no less true right here among us at Our Savior.  We are a diverse group—differing in politics and personality, in education and income, in age and experience, and temperament and tastes.  But when it comes to what matters most—to the teaching God has given us through prophets and apostles, written down in the Scriptures—there we live in a God-given unity—a wonderful oneness based on the truth of God’s Word. 

        But this unity can only be maintained as we continue to devote ourselves to the Scriptures—only as we passionately persist in reading them, studying them, and teaching them to future generations.  If we don’t do that, the abundant life we now enjoy will quickly become impoverished.  If we don’t talk about God’s Word in our homes, if we consistently choose activities that lead us away from hearing God’s Word in worship, if parents don’t model for their children what it means to be a lifelong student of the Scriptures—well, then don’t be surprised when those children grow up to separate themselves from their Savior, and walk away from the abundant life He gives so freely.

        But the abundant life of the first Christians didn’t center exclusively on doctrine; they also devoted themselves to “fellowship.”  Now, Lutherans hear “fellowship” and they often think of coffee or potluck meals.  Well, forget about that for a minute. “Fellowship” in Acts chapter 2 meant that they all shared in the same things.  In fact, these very first Christians shared together in everything—pooled together all their goods and money.  They sold their belongings and gave the proceeds to those who were in need.  Freely they received; freely they gave. 

This system of fellowship worked well when the church was small in number, living together in one place, at that time in history.  It wouldn’t work so well today if we all liquidated our assets and pooled them all together.  That’s not what this means for us.

        But what does it mean?  Why does the Holy Spirit tell us about their unique expression of fellowship and sharing and caring?  If nothing else, it shows how those first believers were whole-heartedly committed to cultivating and sustaining their life together through acts of mercy and compassion.  They weren’t afraid to take risks out of love for the body of Christ.  Where there was a need—where there was a debt—where there was a problem—these saints didn’t just stand around with their hands in their pockets saying, “That’s not my problem.”

        Beloved in the Lord, the fellowship we enjoy here at Our Savior isn’t that different.  It means that there are no bystanders, no spectators, no second class members or third-string members warming the bench.  We’re all baptized; we’re all in this together.  The fellowship of those first believers shows that their life together mattered more than everything else—more than sports and hobbies, more than entertainment and social events.  Fellowship mattered more. 

Those first Christians managed their lives in a way that visibly demonstrated their faith in Christ.  It was the center of life.  It was real.  And they were unafraid to invest their money, their property, their time and sweat—and eventually their blood—into ensuring the success of their life together in Christ.

        The abundant life for those first believers centered not only on the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, but also on the breaking of the bread and the prayers.  For them, the “breaking of the bread and the prayers” went together.  The breaking of the bread was a reference to the Lord’s Supper, Holy Communion.  As often as they were gathering to hear the apostles’ teaching—as often as they shared together in fellowship—they also gathered to be fed with the body and blood of the Good Shepherd.  This gift nourished their life together.  It drew them closer to Jesus; it drew them closer to each other in love and works of mercy.  That’s why they were passionately persisting in the Lord’s Supper.  It, too, was the center of life.

        And around this regular celebration of the Lord’s Supper came also “the prayers.”  Note that St. Luke describes not just prayer, but “the prayers.”  We today would call it “the liturgy.”  When the first Christians gathered for worship it wasn’t a free for all.  There were set prayers, and hymns, and readings—just as there had been in the synagogues of the Old Testament.  Private prayer was no doubt happening too.  But “the prayers,” the liturgy spoken and sung in worship—it too was the very center of life.

        They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.  There we have the abundant life.  This is what the abundant life looks like.  You have it here and now.  It’s not an easy life, of course.  It’s not a life that’s free from trouble or sorrow.  It’s a life where wolves and thieves and robbers threaten to steal and kill and destroy.  But Jesus has come to give you His abundant life.  Abundant life begins by being served by Jesus, and continues as we serve others in the name of Jesus.

        You have the abundant life because Jesus devoted Himself to you.  Jesus has invested in your eternal good.  It was an investment made not with gold or silver, but with His holy precious blood and His innocent suffering and death.  He bore all our sins in His body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness.  By His wounds you have been healed.  That healing is distributed here in holy absolution, in His holy Word, and in His holy meal.  This is your life—the abundant life to which you have been called by the Good Shepherd—so that you may dwell in the house of the Lord forever. 

        In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

 

Resurrection Rhythm

Jesu Juva

St. Luke 24:13-35                                              

April 19, 2026

Easter 3A                           

Dear Saints of Our Savior~

        Life has a certain rhythm—predictable patterns just built into creation.  This rhythm is so familiar that we don’t even notice it most of the time—like the beating of your heart or the breathing of your lungs.  We feel this rhythm in our daily routines:  sunrise and sunset, waking and sleeping, working and playing.  These things comprise the predictable pulse of life for all people.

        But on the road to Emmaus, a new rhythm is revealed.  And this “resurrection rhythm” is now the beating heart of all our hope and joy. This resurrection rhythm was first revealed on Easter Sunday.  It was midafternoon and two disciples were making their way home from Jerusalem to Emmaus.  It was a journey of just seven miles or so—like a walk from here to Mequon.  These two men had believed that Jesus was the One—a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people.  They had hoped He was the Messiah, the one who would redeem Israel.  But now their hopes had been shattered.  Jesus was dead and buried.  Now they were walking home with no hope, no joy, no faith.

        About that time a stranger drew near and joined their journey.  It was Jesus; but their eyes were kept from recognizing Him.  Note that passive verb:  their eyes were kept from recognizing Him.  His identity was divinely, intentionally concealed from them.  You have to wonder why.  Why play this little game with two distraught disciples?  Well, remember, Jesus is teaching them a new rhythm for life—a resurrection rhythm.  And a new rhythm has to be felt—has to be sensed—has to be experienced.  Jesus is teaching them something they will never forget.

        But there’s a problem with these two disciples; and Jesus has to address it.  After listening to their sad report on what had happened that weekend, Jesus rebuked them.  They were being “foolish” and “slow of heart.”  “Foolish,” as in faithless.  And “slow of heart,” as in hearts that were hardened to the Word.  These two men were followers of Jesus.  They likely knew what Jesus had said on more than one occasion—about how He would be crucified and how He would rise again on the third day.  But they didn’t believe it.  They didn’t trust that Jesus would be true to His Word.  That was a big problem for those two.

        And their problem is our problem, too.  Their sin is our sin.  For we too can hear the good news of Jesus’ resurrection but then carry on as if nothing of significance has happened.  We can hear that sin and death are defeated—we can shout, “He is risen indeed, alleluia,” but then face each day with grim and joyless faces—fearful, anxious, and hopeless.  Some days we’re fueled by fear; and some days we’re fueled by anger.  Some days we’re just as scared of living as we are of dying.  If a documentary crew dropped in to document a typical day in your life, would anyone at all get the impression from you that Jesus Christ is risen from the dead?  O foolish ones, and slow of heart to believe.

        So let Jesus show you what He showed those two Emmaus disciples.  Listen to the resurrection rhythm—for in that rhythm is the remedy for our sin and a pathway to real peace and joy.

        This resurrection rhythm begins with the Word of God:  Beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, [Jesus] interpreted to them in all the Scriptures the things concerning himself.  Jesus took the Word of God and taught it to them—all of it, from Genesis to Malachi.  He showed them how all of it pointed ahead to Him.  He preached that He was the Passover Lamb whose blood now marks our door by faith.  He proclaimed that He was Isaiah’s Suffering Servant who was stricken, smitten, and afflicted by God in order to bear the sins of the whole world.  Jesus opened the Scriptures—gave them the Word—and made their hearts burn for joy.  Remember this: The resurrection rhythm begins with the Word.

        But even after hearing the Word, the two disciples still didn’t recognize the One who was teaching them.  Their eyes were still kept from recognizing Him.  When they finally reached Emmaus, Jesus acted as if He were going further.  But they urged Him strongly: Stay with us, for it is nearly evening and the day is almost over.  So Jesus went in to stay with them. 

But as the meal began, Jesus took over.  The guest became the host.  Jesus takes the bread, gives thanks, blesses it, breaks it, and begins to distribute it to them.  Sound familiar?  It should.  It echoes what Jesus had done in the upper room on Thursday evening. Then and there, at that moment, in that meal, their eyes were opened and they recognized Him.  As their teeth closed down on the bread Jesus gave, their eyes opened up and they beheld Jesus face to face!  Jesus made Himself known to them in the breaking of the bread.  The Master is made manifest in the meal.

        Why did Jesus do it this way?  Why spend all that time in the Word and in the Meal before appearing—and then disappearing?  Jesus knew that He was only going to be visibly present for forty more days.  He had to “wean” His followers from seeing Him with their eyes.  He had to teach them a new rhythm.  He had to catechize them to hear His voice in the Word and to recognize Him in the meal of His body and blood.  It would be in this new rhythm of Word and Meal, Word and Meal, that Jesus would continue to gather with His church until He comes again in glory.

        Beloved in the Lord, this is where your road and the road to Emmaus intersect.  Like those two disciples, you’ve heard the news that Christ is risen, but Christ Himself you have not seen.  And yet, He is here—quite here, profoundly here, bodily here—here to make your heart and life burn brightly with resurrection joy by the forgiveness of your sins.  The resurrection rhythm continues to pulsate here in this place—here in the Word and in the Meal.

        Word and Meal.  Word and Meal.  Word and Meal . . . and one thing more.  You see, the resurrection rhythm has a Trinitarian time signature.  It’s a threefold rhythm.  For let’s not forget that once Jesus revealed Himself in the Word and in the Meal—that once Jesus disappeared from their sight—those two disciples didn’t just turn in for the night.  They made a beeline right back to Jerusalem.  They reversed their seven mile journey—doubled their daily mileage to 14—jogging back to Jerusalem in the nighttime darkness, so that they could bear witness to the fact that Christ is risen.  It just couldn’t wait until the next day.  They couldn’t help but tell the good news of how Jesus was known to them in the breaking of the bread.

        Beloved in the Lord, that good news is also on our lips on this Third Sunday of Easter—good news that we can share with a world full of fearful people.  Only you don’t have to complete a seven-mile run to tell the good news that Christ is risen.  You express that good news in how you live and how you speak—by your very life and conversation.  Nothing can vanquish the hope that you have.  Nothing can undo the power of the resurrection.  Our present sufferings aren’t even worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in the resurrection.  Let that be your witness as you sync-up with the resurrection rhythm of the Emmaus road.

        Word, Meal, Witness.  Word, Meal, Witness. Through that resurrection rhythm Jesus Himself joins us.  He is with you.  We hear His voice in the Word.  His body and blood are made manifest in the Meal.  And we wake up every day bearing witness to the hope we have in Him.  Word, Meal, Witness.  Enjoy that Easter earworm!  Follow the Emmaus road.  Walk in the rhythm of the resurrection. 

        In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.