FROM BROKEN HOPES TO BURNING HEARTS
Luke 24:13-35
Pastor Calvary deJong
April 27th, 2025
Introduction
Have you ever realized too late that you missed something important happening right in front of you?
In the movie Big Daddy, Sonny Koufax was drifting through life. Once on track to become a successful lawyer, he gave up on ambition after a minor accident won him a big insurance settlement. Instead of building a future, Sonny settled for living aimlessly and working one day a week at a toll booth. One day, Sonny walks into his apartment — and surprise! Balloons, streamers, and a cake — except the party wasn’t meant for him. It was supposed to celebrate his hardworking roommate, Kevin. But by the time Kevin arrives, the moment has been wasted. Kevin’s fiancée glares at Sonny and says, “We wasted the good surprise on you!” They missed who the moment was really for! In a way, that’s what happens in Luke 24. Two disciples are walking away from Jerusalem, convinced the story is over — while the risen Jesus Himself walks beside them, unnoticed. They missed the miracle right in front of them.
Today, many still place their hopes in politics, success, or circumstances — and find those hopes shattered. But Luke 24 reminds us: when our hopes are broken, Jesus meets us — in Scripture, in community, and at the Table — to turn broken dreams into burning hearts. In the Emmaus story, Jesus doesn’t scold them for walking away — He walks with them. Step by step, He patiently reshapes their understanding and reignites their faith. That’s still how He meets us today.
- Jesus Meets Them in Scripture (Luke 24:25–27)
As the disciples walk away in defeat, Jesus joins them — but instead of dazzling them with power, He opens the Scriptures: "beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, he explained to them what was said in all the Scriptures concerning himself.” (Luke 24:27) Faith that lasts isn’t built on adrenaline or emotional highs. It’s anchored in God’s Word. Today, many think faith is believing in something that isn’t true without evidence. But in the biblical imagination, that is not what faith is. Rather, Biblical faith is trusting what has been tested and found true. Origen taught that one does not see Christ until one has been taught how to see Christ in the Scriptures. Even when Jesus Himself walked beside them, He pointed their faith back to the Scriptures — rooting their hope in the unfolding story of God’s plan. The Bible wasn’t given just to inform us, but to transform us — helping us see Jesus more clearly and trust Him more fully, especially when life feels confusing.
- Jesus Meets Them in Community (Luke 24:28–29)
As they reach Emmaus, the disciples urge Jesus to stay. They don’t fully recognize Him yet, but something is stirring in their hearts: "stay with us, for it is nearly evening; the day is almost over." (Luke 24:29) Faith grows stronger in fellowship. Faith and doubt were never meant to be walked alone. The journey from confusion to clarity often happens around shared tables, honest conversations, and friendships that give space for questions.
Application:
If your hopes are broken today, don't isolate yourself. Reach out. Sometimes you have to borrow someone else’s faith until your own catches fire again. Jesus often speaks clearest when we journey together.
You don't need a perfect small group, a polished Bible study, or a spiritual retreat to encounter Him. You need a willingness to stay at the table long enough for the conversation to lead you to Him. The road to burning hearts starts with shared life. Sometimes that means inviting someone over for coffee. Sometimes it’s simply showing up, even when you don’t have all the answers. The habit of gathering keeps the embers of faith alive until they burst into flame.
III. Jesus Meets Them at the Table (Luke 24:30–31)
It wasn’t through miracles or speeches, but through the simple act of breaking bread that their eyes were opened: “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..." (Luke 24:30–31) The Table isn’t just a memorial service — it’s an encounter with the living Christ. Ambrose of Milan reflected on the transformation that occurs during communion. Jesus meets us in the ordinary — bread, prayers, shared life — and transforms it into sacred encounter.
Application:
Come to the Table hungry. Come expecting that God still speaks, still reveals, still restores.
When we gather around bread and cup — when we gather around God’s Word and His people — the risen Jesus steps into the room. He meets us in simple obedience and simple faith. Don't wait for a mountaintop experience to feel close to Him. He is closer than you realize — breaking bread, breaking open your heart, and building a hope that will not disappoint. Even when we don’t recognize Him at first, He is faithful to reveal Himself to those who seek Him.
Gospel Invitation: From Broken Hopes to Burning Hearts
Maybe today you’re thinking, “I’m a good person.” Imagine getting pulled over for speeding in a school zone and trying to argue, "But officer, I’m a good person!" No matter how many good things you’ve done, the law still holds. In the same way, none of us can erase our sin before a holy God by good deeds. We've all broken God's law — and the penalty stands. But the good news is that Jesus came not just to remind us of our guilt, but to rescue us. On the cross, He took our punishment. In the resurrection, He offers us new life.
Like the disciples on the road, it’s not enough just to hear about Him. We have to respond — to make a U-turn — repentance — and start walking with Him. Today, Jesus is stepping into your story too. Will you invite Him into your broken hopes, so He can give you a new heart and a new future?
Prayer
May the risen Christ meet you on the road,
mending what is broken and making you whole.
May the Scriptures ignite your heart with love and hope.
And may His peace rest upon you — today and always.
Amen.
CHRIST COLLIDES
WITH DEATH
Luke 24:1-12 Pastor Calvary deJong
Easter Sunday, April 20, 2025
Introduction: A Choc-apocalypse
What comes to mind when you think about Easter? When I was a kid, Easter meant church in the morning—but let’s be honest, I was mostly focused on the candy waiting afterward. My family would then head to a big family gathering, and I knew exactly what was coming: a full-blown candy apocalypse. Cadbury Mini Eggs, chocolate bunnies—you name it. One year, I ate so much chocolate that we had to stop the truck on the way home—let’s just say it was not my most glorious moment. Back then, Easter was mostly about what was in the basket. But over time—and especially as I’ve grown in my faith—it’s become much more about what’s in the heart.
This year for Lent, I gave up two things I love: Coke and Frappuccinos. Not because they’re inherently bad, but because even good things can crowd out space that belongs to God. My boys thought it was hilarious. “Dad,” they said, “how are you going to survive?” Honestly, the first few days were rough. But Lent isn’t about deprivation for its own sake. It’s about preparation. It’s about making space to remember—and to reawaken to what matters. Maybe you’re skeptical, or hurting, or just curious. Whatever brought you here, I believe Easter isn’t just a story to admire—it’s an invitation to experience something real.
Scene One: The Women at the Tomb (Luke 24:1–5)
Luke tells us that on the first day of the week, very early in the morning, a group of women came to the tomb where Jesus had been buried. They had witnessed his death. They had seen the stone rolled into place. They were coming to perform a final act of love and devotion—anointing his body with spices. But when they arrived, they found the stone rolled away. The tomb was open—and empty.
Then two angels appeared beside them and asked a question that still echoes today: “Why do you look for the living among the dead?”This is not a metaphor. Luke doesn’t present this as poetry or a parable. He presents it as history. In fact, at the beginning of his Gospel, Luke says he “carefully investigated everything from the beginning” so that his readers could know the certainty of what they’ve been taught (Luke 1:3–4). Luke is telling us something happened. Something unexpected. Something that changed the trajectory of the world.
Scene Two: The Son of Man Remembered (Luke 24:6–8)
The angels remind the women, “Remember how he told you… that the Son of Man must be delivered to sinners, be crucified, and on the third day be raised again.” That title—Son of Man—is the interpretive key. It comes from Daniel 7, where a divine figure rides the clouds and is given glory, authority, and a kingdom that will never end. Jesus used this title over 25 times in
Luke’s Gospel. Not just to describe who Jesus was, but to frame everything he came to do. And now, the women begin to see the thread. The teachings. The miracles. The suffering. It all points here. Jesus is not just a good teacher or a compassionate prophet. He is the Son of Man—the One who suffers, dies, and rises to rule. His kingdom doesn’t rise by domination, but by sacrificial love. His power is revealed in weakness. His victory comes through a cross.
Scene Three: Witnesses Who Weren’t Supposed to Count (Luke 24:9–12)
In the ancient world, women were not considered reliable witnesses. Their testimony wasn’t admissible in court. So if someone were fabricating a resurrection story, they would never write it this way. But God does. But in all four Gospels, it’s the women who discover the empty tomb. And when they tell the disciples, their words are dismissed as nonsense. Except for Peter. He doesn’t fully understand it, but he runs. He runs toward the tomb. Toward possibility. Toward hope. Maybe that’s where you are today. Not certain. Not settled. But drawn. You don’t have to have it all figured out. Peter didn’t. But he ran towards the resurrection. And maybe that’s the invitation for you, too.
The Invitation of Easter
So let me ask: what are you looking for this Easter? Peace? Clarity? Purpose? Healing? That same angelic question still speaks to us: Why do you look for the living among the dead? You won’t find resurrection life in old routines or broken systems. Not in nostalgia or just “going through the motions.” You’ll find it in the risen Jesus—who still calls people by name. Who still walks with the weary. Who still meets us at the tomb and turns grief into joy. N.T. Wright puts it this way: “The message of Easter is that God’s new world has been unveiled in Jesus Christ—and you are now invited to belong to it.” That invitation is for you. Not when you’re perfect, but right now.
We Are a Resurrection People
And this invitation isn’t just personal—it’s communal. It changes who we are together. We’re not just people who admire Jesus. We’re people who follow him. People who trust that the same power that raised Christ from the dead is at work in us, too. We live in a world that often feels tired. Divided. Cynical. But resurrection means we don’t have to settle for decline or despair. We don’t have to live like our best days are behind us. Because Jesus lives, the story isn’t over. If God can raise the dead, he can renew a family. Restore a heart. Revive a church. Let’s be a resurrection people:
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Who believe again.
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Who pray again.
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Who serve and love boldly again.
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Who live like the tomb is empty—because it is.
Let’s not look for life in dead places. Let’s walk in step with the risen One.
Christ is risen. He is risen indeed.
CHRIST COLLIDES
WITH OUR BLINDERS
Luke 18:31-19:10
Pastor Calvary deJong
April 6th, 2025
Introduction: Climbing Trees
On March 31st — the last legal day to prune elm trees in Saskatchewan — I found myself 20 feet up a ladder with a chainsaw, overlooking my wife’s raised garden boxes. She loves to garden, but the shade from a neighbor’s overgrown elm had been blocking sunlight for years. A couple of years ago, we dealt with the roots by laying landscape fabric and gravel and building up fresh soil in raised beds. But we still hadn’t dealt with the shade. So, there I was — ready to trim a few limbs — until I realized they’d fall directly onto the power line. My options weren’t great: risk electrocution, break the law by pruning late, or disappoint my wife until August. So, I called Saskatoon Light and Power to request a line drop. To my surprise, a crew showed up 15 minutes later. One technician looked at me and said, “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” I said, “Yes, sir” — which was only mostly true.
With the line down and the branches cleared, I stood in the tree and looked out across the neighbourhood. And it reminded me of another man who climbed a tree — not for sunlight, but to catch a glimpse of a Savior. Zacchaeus wasn’t physically blind, but he still couldn’t see clearly — not until Jesus showed up. And sometimes, we need Christ to collide with our blinders so we can see what matters most. Luke 18:31–19:10 tells a continuous story in three scenes. Each involves someone who cannot see clearly, and each moves us closer to the heart of the gospel: that Jesus came to seek and to save the lost.
Act 1: The Disciples and Their Blindness (Luke 18:31–34)
Jesus, nearing Jerusalem, tells His disciples what’s about to happen: “Everything that is written about the Son of Man will be fulfilled.” He predicts His betrayal, suffering, death, and resurrection. This is a direct reference to Daniel 7:13–14, where the Son of Man is given divine authority and a kingdom that will never end. Jesus is saying plainly: “I am that King — but my crown will come through the cross.” And yet the disciples are confused. Luke writes, “Its meaning was hidden from them.” Despite walking with Jesus, hearing His teaching, and witnessing His miracles, they don’t see what’s coming. They’re not physically blind — but spiritually, they’re in the dark. Their assumptions about power and glory prevent them from seeing the suffering path Jesus must take.
Act 2: The Blind Beggar Who Sees (Luke 18:35–43)
As Jesus enters Jericho, a blind man hears the commotion and asks what’s going on. When he learns that Jesus is passing by, he cries out: “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” That title — Son of David — is a loaded phrase. It comes from promises in 2 Samuel 7:12–16 and Isaiah 11:1–10 about a coming King from David’s line who would rule with righteousness. This man may be blind, but he sees Jesus more clearly than the disciples do. The crowd tells him to be quiet — but he cries out louder. Jesus stops and asks, “What do you want me to do for you?” He replies, “Lord, I want to see.” Jesus says, “Receive your sight; your faith has healed you.” This man doesn’t just regain physical vision — he becomes a disciple. Luke says he follows Jesus, glorifying God. In contrast to the disciples’ blindness, this beggar shows what true sight looks like: faith that sees Jesus for who He really is.
Act 3: The Tax Collector Who Climbs (Luke 19:1–10)
Next, we meet Zacchaeus — a wealthy chief tax collector. He’s not physically blind, and he’s not marginalized in the same way the beggar is. But he’s spiritually stuck. He’s traded dignity for wealth, working with the Roman occupiers to collect taxes — often overcharging his own people for profit. Still, he wants to see Jesus. Short in stature and blocked by the crowd, he climbs a sycamore tree — an act both desperate and undignified. Jesus stops, looks up, and says, “Zacchaeus, come down immediately. I must stay at your house today.” It echoes the murmuring from Luke 15:2: “This man welcomes sinners and eats with them.” But Zacchaeus is transformed. He stands and says, “Lord, I give half my possessions to the poor, and if I’ve cheated anyone, I’ll pay back four times the amount.” That’s far beyond the restitution laws in Leviticus 6 and Numbers 5, which only required repayment plus 20%. He isn’t earning salvation — he’s responding to it. Jesus declares, “Today salvation has come to this house… For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.”
Come On Down — Jesus is Coming Over
Let me ask: Do you want to see Jesus? Not just know about Him. Not just agree with Christian ideas. But to encounter Him — to have your eyes opened and your heart awakened? That’s what happened on the Jericho road. A blind man cried out. A tax collector climbed a tree. Both were desperate. Both were seen. And both were changed. Maybe you feel like the blind man — stuck, ignored, unsure if you matter. Or maybe you’re more like Zacchaeus — successful but spiritually adrift. Either way, Jesus still stops. He still looks up. And He still calls people by name. Before Zacchaeus repented or paid anyone back, Jesus said, “I must stay at your house today.” Grace didn’t wait for him to clean up — it moved first.
What’s Blocking Your Vision?
What’s keeping you from seeing clearly? Is it pride? Pain? Fear? Shame? Maybe just distraction? Like the disciples, have you grown familiar with Jesus but lost your wonder? Has your faith become routine? The invitation still stands. Jesus is passing by. And He’s calling your name.
We Are a Church Where Weakness Becomes Witness
This message isn’t just for individuals — it’s for our church collectively. If the Son of Man came to seek and save the lost, that shapes our calling too. Let’s be a church community where:
- It’s safe to cry out, like the blind man.
- Outsiders like Zacchaeus are welcomed with joy, not suspicion.
- Weakness isn’t something to hide — it’s something Jesus redeems.
Because the story doesn’t end when you meet Jesus. That’s where it begins.
Closing Prayer
Lord Jesus, You still stop for the forgotten, and You still call the searching by name. You see past our blinders — and You draw near with compassion and grace. Help us climb whatever tree we need to climb, to cry whatever prayer we need to pray, and to follow wherever You lead. Let our weakness become a witness, our homes a place of welcome, and our lives a testimony to Your redeeming love.
Amen.
