The Story of Easter and Humanity
This is the day that the grave was defeated.
The Easter story is a long story, because the fullness of Easter is not just confined to the week that we call Easter. We’re now at the end of Holy Week—well, sort of the end, it’s Friday—but we can sometimes think that the Easter story is just this bit: Jesus is taken, He’s put on the cross, He’s crucified, He’s buried, and then three days later He rises again. And we can think, “Well, that’s Easter.”
But the story of Easter goes much further back than that. The story of Easter actually starts with the story of humanity. It starts in Genesis. Some of you will know that when Adam and Eve were there in the garden, representing all of humanity, they disobeyed God. They took the fruit from the tree when God had said, “Please don’t do that.” In that moment, Easter became necessary. From that point on, the long story of Easter began.
Fast forward to this particular week—Holy Week. On Sunday, a week ago today, Palm Sunday, Jesus rides into Jerusalem on the back of a donkey. He’s being praised and worshipped, palm branches are being laid down, and the crowd is shouting, “Hosanna! Save us now, King of Israel!”
And it doesn’t take long—just five days until Friday—for the crowd to completely turn. In that time we see Messiah denied, Messiah betrayed, Messiah crucified, Messiah dead, hope diminished.
Until today. Until Sunday. Happy-day Sunday. Because something happened. Something happened on Sunday.
We can read about it in Scripture. I’m not going to read it verbatim, but I’ll tell you what happened, because it’s not where we’re necessarily focusing this morning. On Easter Sunday, the women went to the tomb where Jesus had been laid, expecting to continue the burial process with perfumes and spices, as was the Jewish custom. They went expecting death, because that was the framework they were living in. That’s what they’d witnessed. That’s what they’d seen happen.
But when they arrived, they saw that the stone had been rolled away. Something had happened. As we just sang, the angel sitting in the tomb spoke to the women and challenged them: “Why are you looking for the living among the dead?” Amen. Because Jesus is alive.
But even then, the penny hadn’t quite dropped. The women went back to the disciples and reported what they had seen and experienced. The disciples didn’t believe them at first. It’s difficult to believe, isn’t it? If someone says to you, “I’ve just been to the grave of someone who died recently, and it’s empty,” that’s a difficult thing to take in.
So the disciples ran to the tomb to confirm it for themselves, and they saw the same thing. The tomb was empty. They knew something strange was going on, something was off, but they still didn’t fully understand what had happened. There were lots of facts, lots of pieces of the puzzle, but not yet a lot of revelation.
How many of you have ever been in a situation where you are presented with the same facts as somebody else, and the conclusion seems perfectly obvious to you—so obvious that you’re sure the other person must see it the same way?
Here’s an example. We’ve got a little storage cupboard in our house. We looked in there a while ago and it was absolutely full of baby clothes—things Soph had grown out of, which, by the way, doesn’t take very long. Sam and I stood there looking into this cupboard. The facts were obvious: we had a load of clothes we no longer needed. To me, it was clear—we needed to take these clothes to a charity shop because we were done with them.
But that wasn’t the conclusion Sam came to. She looked at the same cupboard, the same clothes, and said, “Well, we need to have another baby then.” Same facts, completely different perspective, different understanding.
Something similar happens most weekends in our house. We get to the end of the week, open the fridge on a Friday or Saturday night, and there’s nothing there. It’s basically empty. To Sam, it’s obvious: “We need to go to Asda and pick up some supplies.” I’m looking at the same fridge and thinking, “We need a takeaway, don’t we?” Same facts, but completely different perspective.
From Information to Revelation on the Emmaus Road
We see this in the book of Luke. After all these events around Jesus’ death and the empty tomb, we meet two people on the road to Emmaus. We don’t know much about them. We know that one is called Cleopas, but we don’t know the name of the other. They’re heading away from Jerusalem—away from the place of the empty tomb—and they’re on their way home to Emmaus.
At this point, Jesus comes and walks alongside them. This is Luke 24; we’ll read it properly in a second. Jesus comes and walks with these two people, but they don’t realise it’s Jesus yet. They start to have this conversation, and it’s a really interesting conversation, because they actually seem to know everything.
From verse 19, Jesus asks them, “What things?” because they’ve just said, “Are you the only one visiting Jerusalem who doesn’t know the things that have happened?” And they reply:
“About Jesus of Nazareth. He was a prophet, powerful in word and deed before God and all the people. The chief priests and our rulers handed him over to be sentenced to death, and they crucified him. But we had hoped that he was the one who was going to redeem Israel. And what is more, it is the third day since all this took place. In addition, some of our women amazed us. They went to the tomb early this morning but didn’t find his body. They came and told us that they had seen a vision of angels who said he was alive. Then some of our companions went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said, but they did not see Jesus.”
So these two, walking away from Jerusalem, actually have all the facts. Do we agree they’ve got all the facts? They know everything. And they’re Jewish, so they also have the context of the Old Testament, the prophecies that foretold what was going to happen. They’ve got it all laid out in front of them, and they can list the facts: “He’s alive—that’s what the women said. The tomb is empty. His body is gone.”
But their response is essentially, “We’re just going to go home now.” They’ve got a lot of information, but they don’t have the revelation. A lot of information, not a lot of revelation.
Because it’s easier to go back to the place of familiarity—home, in Emmaus—when the other option requires faith. The disappointment, the confusion, the uncertainty that they feel on that road is not because they don’t have the information; it’s because they don’t yet have the revelation.
This is really key. It’s like having all the pieces of a jigsaw, but not really knowing how they fit together.
We were doing a jigsaw yesterday—I actually brought it to church this morning. It’s one of those four‑in‑one puzzles. Just to point this out, it says on the box “18 months plus.” Sophie did it in about five minutes, just saying.
We were putting the pieces together—or rather, she was. And there were moments, Sophie, I hope you don’t mind me saying this, darling, where she had a piece of a lion and a piece of an elephant’s bottom and she was trying to jam them together. She had the pieces and she was trying to make a picture, but she didn’t quite understand what the picture was supposed to be.
So there were times when Sam and I had to say, “What is it that we’re making here? Is it an elephant or is it a lion? Let’s figure out what picture we’re aiming for, and then we can use the pieces to build it.”
In Luke 24, on the road to Emmaus, that’s what we see. These two people have all the pieces, but they don’t know what the picture is.
I wonder if that feels familiar to any of us this morning. Maybe you’ve experienced disappointment, collapse, uncertainty, rejection. Could it be, church, that we’ve got all the pieces—we’ve got all the information, we know the scriptures, we know the words we’re singing—but we’re just lacking some revelation?
Revelation on the Road to Emmaus
Now, what happens next is quite interesting, because from verse 25 Jesus goes on to confirm everything these people have said. He confirms absolutely everything. In fact, he starts pretty harsh, saying, “How foolish you are, and how slow to believe all that the prophets have spoken.”
But notice this: “How slow to believe what the prophets have spoken.” They already know what the prophets have spoken. They just don’t believe what the prophets have spoken.
In the next few verses, what we read is Jesus confirming everything they know. He offers no new information. There’s nothing new that Jesus reveals in this moment at all. On the road to Emmaus, Jesus simply confirms what they already know.
And it is important for us to know what we know. It is important for us to know and understand the Scriptures. That’s what Jesus does for them right here. He confirms and affirms everything they know—their understanding, all the different pieces. He’s affirming and confirming that.
It’s important for us, as we read Scripture, not only to know what we know from the text, but also to have it interpreted to us by God. Because if we’re just reading the Bible, if we’re just collecting information, then we’re going to miss out on revelation. We do need the Lord to explain his Scriptures to us.
Now, we don’t walk from Jerusalem to Emmaus with the embodied Jesus physically beside us, do we? Has anyone done that? Not many. But what we do have is the Holy Spirit—the living God inside us—able to minister to us as we read the Scripture. And this is really key, because this is exactly what’s happening in this story.
The people on the road to Emmaus continue to walk with Jesus. They continue to have the Scriptures explained to them and affirmed to them. They walk with him until they reach the house where they live. Jesus is going to carry on; he’s just going to keep walking. But they invite Jesus in. They invite Jesus into their home.
I wonder if we’re inviting Jesus into our homes. I wonder if we’re not only walking with Jesus and allowing him to explain the Scripture to us, to explain the truth, to affirm what we already know in our heads—but also letting him lay the foundation for revelation. Are we inviting him in?
Breakthrough in Communion With Christ
From verse 30, this is where everything changes. Something incredible happens.
We read: “When he was at the table with them, he took bread, gave thanks, broke it and began to give it to them. Then their eyes were opened and they recognized him, and he disappeared from their sight.”
Something significant happens around the table, in this very moment.
First, they are simply sitting at the table with Jesus. So I want to challenge you again: have you sat around the table with Jesus?
Do you notice in this story that there are different degrees of closeness with Christ? We can walk alongside Him on the road – that’s one degree of closeness. Then there’s inviting Jesus into our home – that’s a deeper level of closeness. And then there’s sitting down at the table with Jesus – that’s a third, even deeper degree of closeness.
So I wonder this morning: what’s your degree of closeness, your proximity to Jesus? Where have you invited Him in?
It is around the table – only around the table – that this revelation comes. It’s around the table that everything changes. This is really significant, because what Jesus does at the table is take the bread, give thanks, break it, and give it to them. And that is the moment the revelation comes.
Why? Because in the breaking of the bread, they see the breaking of Jesus.
The bread must be broken in order to be shared, mustn’t it? Without the bread being broken, it remains a single piece. You can’t truly share a single, unbroken piece of bread. It must be broken in order to be shared. And in the same way, Jesus must be broken in order to be shared.
There is a revelation that comes when the bread is broken: it is through brokenness that breakthrough comes. It is through the brokenness that Jesus is able to be shared.
And not only shared. I saw this picture over the Easter period and I thought it was incredible. Just close your eyes for a second and imagine you are one of these disciples, sitting around the table with Jesus. He is in front of you, holding the bread. He breaks the bread and He gives it to you.
What do we see in that picture? We see a man fully alive, fully whole, fully human, sitting right in front of you – not dead – holding in His hands the bread which He breaks. It is the revelation of the broken Jesus, shown through the bread, held in the hands of the One who is no longer broken.
What is He saying in that moment? What is this picture declaring? It’s as if He’s saying: “This is what happened to me. I was broken. I was shared. But look at me now. I am whole. I am resurrected. I am with you.”
Church, breakthrough comes when we understand that breakthrough comes from brokenness – and that the brokenness is actually necessary for the breakthrough, because even the brokenness is held in the hands of the One who has defeated brokenness.
There is a powerful picture here: a revelation that comes through the breaking of the bread. This is why communion is so important for us, because it carries this imagery that Jesus was broken for us – not only broken, but shared for every single person. This is the Easter story: He is broken, and He is whole.
And now, in that moment of revelation, everything these disciples have experienced starts to make sense. In verse 32 they say, “Were not our hearts burning within us…?” In other words: “Weren’t we on fire when He was with us? Weren’t we alive?” Suddenly there is clarity, there is conviction, as they grasp this revelation that Jesus had to be broken in order to be shared.
Then, He disappears from their sight. Why? Because they no longer needed to see Him in the flesh. Now they had the full revelation in the Spirit. Now they knew who Jesus really is. They didn’t need to see Him anymore, because now they knew.
This is the new revelation Jesus gives them: it is through brokenness that breakthrough comes, and that revelation redefines their past.
That’s what these men acknowledge. They look back and say, “Now it makes sense. Now the Scriptures make sense to us. Now the prophecies make sense to us.” They already knew the words. There’s no new information. That’s important: there’s no new information. What they have now is revelation. Revelation from the Lord.
So how does the revelation of the living God – the One who was broken and is now fully restored – redefine your past? How does it shape your future?
Scripture says that what the enemy intended for evil, the Lord will turn for good. Amen.
Christ’s Broken Body and Our Worship
Whatever we have, whatever we’re holding on to, whatever is in our past that we think forms part of our identity—the brokenness—we need to know that Jesus holds that brokenness in His hands, because He is the One who is fully restored.
These men on the road had been musing, discovering, interpreting, in awe of what was happening. Not long before, they were crushed by disappointment. And that disappointment came because Jesus didn’t fit into their story. They were trying to build the wrong picture with the pieces they had. But now the picture has been fully revealed, and they’re invited to step into Jesus’ story—no longer trying to frame their own picture, but to step into His.
Isn’t that a challenge for us this morning?
Why don’t we stand, and we’re going to worship. Because this is worth worshiping. Jesus is worth worshiping. And as we worship, we’ll ask the Lord to continue His revelation to us, to keep revealing who He is, to reveal all things through His brokenness—because He holds the brokenness in His hands.
And we can take this out. In fact, we have a mission, a mandate, to take this message out. Did you know that? Scripture tells us that Jesus commands us to go into all the world, to preach the gospel, to make disciples, and to baptize. Did you know that, Church?
There is a world out there today, and I don’t think the world is rejecting God. I think the world is experiencing disappointment. Their brokenness leads them into disappointment because they haven’t understood the full picture—because they haven’t yet had a revelation from God. Amen?
And it’s on us, Church. It’s incumbent on us, the Church of Jesus Christ, to walk alongside people, to explain the Scriptures, to explain who Jesus is, to explain that Jesus is the One who holds the brokenness and that He is able to, because He is the One who has defeated brokenness. This is our job, Church. This is what we’re called to do: to explain that He took the weight of all the sin and all the shame, for all people, for all time. Mine, yours, his, hers, everybody’s—for all time, for all people, forever.
He took the sin and all the shame on the cross in one moment, Church. Like an elephant wearing a stiletto, the pressure on Jesus Christ in that moment on the cross—the crushing weight bearing down on Him. And He took that on Himself. One man, truly and fully broken. Truly and fully broken, because He had to be. Because only by being broken could He be shared. Amen?
Only by being broken could He be shared—His goodness, His righteousness, His love, His grace, His mercy, His favour—all poured out for all people. Not just one or two, but for all people. Jesus is shared. Amen.
Do we know, Church, this morning, that Jesus Christ is for all people? That Jesus Christ was broken to be shared? Do we know, Church? Do we know that Jesus Christ is not just for the people in this room, or for the people in rooms similar to this all across the country, but that Jesus Christ is for all people? That God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that none would perish but that all would have eternal life? Amen. Jesus Christ came for all people.
Brokenness is where He went, Church, but it is not where He stayed. Do we know that? It is not where He stayed.
Three days in the grave. Three days—count them: one, two, three. He went down to hell, had a word with the snake himself, with the enemy, with the one who thought he held power, with the one who thought he held authority. And Jesus said to him, “Listen, you have no power and you have no authority. I will take back the keys to death and Hades. They are mine. I am defeating the grave. You have no power. You have no authority. The wages of sin may very well be death, but it’s My death. I’m taking it on Myself for all My people. It is now paid in full.” Thanks be to God. Amen.
Now, if you don’t mind, Jesus had a resurrection to attend. So He came back. The stone was rolled away. The grave couldn’t hold Him. Death couldn’t stop Him. Nothing could contain Him. And so He is reigning, He is risen, and we are worshiping Him because of that fact. Amen. Amen.
Church, let’s worship together.
