The story of that first Easter day in Luke’s gospel is full of surprises.

First, the women are surprised by the angelic messengers and the news that Jesus is Risen. Then the rest of the disciples are surprised (and suspicious) of the report that the women bring them. And finally, as the day is drawing to a close, Clopas and a companion are surprised by a stranger on the road.

We know it’s Jesus. The gospel writer can’t fool us. But the travellers are in the dark, until the bread is broken.

So, they don’t recognize Jesus – and they try to describe Jesus to Jesus. Which is…awkward.

It is a strange thing – that these two, who had been part of the group travelling with Jesus, were not able to recognize him. True, they’ve not had a very good couple of days. They are shocked – grieving – baffled by how quickly the tide had turned. Jesus had been challenging (and openly mocking) the powers that be. He seemed indifferent (and immune) to the consequences of his actions…until Thursday night. The movement must have seemed unstoppable. Everything going their way – public opinion starting to turn in their favour. Until the authorities put an end to their hopefulness.

Our celebrations a week ago are a wonderful reminder of the moment of glorious revelation – hope literally reborn, and death robbed of power, but the continuing Easter story is important for us to hear, because we are still living it. That wonderful moment at the empty tomb is not the whole story. The empty tomb is just how the story starts.

The church pulls out all the stops on Easter – we sing the songs, we decorate, we celebrate – and well we should, but the real Easter story is one of continual discovery after the fact.

The women tell their ‘idle tale’ and then go on about their business full of hope.

The disciples eventually come around… and then they pick up the work of healing and teaching and telling the world about Jesus with wild abandon. But only After. The Fact.

No one is so ambitious while the Master is standing in their midst. None went out (except when Jesus sent them) to do the work before Jesus was arrested and crucified. The death and resurrection of Jesus starts a cycle of active belief that doesn’t happen while he is with them.

There is an important lesson here for us.

We are Easter people – never having known the wonder and whimsy of Jesus in the flesh. For a little more than two thousand years, countless generation of faithful folk have needed to trust the story and lean on the Spirit. Sometimes we get it right, but just as often we fail to understand that the kingdom work and witness is defined by how we respond to the news that Christ is Risen.

What does it mean to follow a teacher who ‘defeated death?’ How should we behave once we claim the promise of life abundant and eternal? Is our faith for some future promise only, or are we expected to live (act) the kingdom into life in our own way, for our own time?

When I was in high school, I was introduced to Jesus in a youth group. I was among people who I grew to know and loved – who meant well, and who lived out their convictions – but they had their eyes on heaven. Life on earth was an inconvenience. A bump in the road. Heaven was the goal, and it was clear that only the proper attitude toward Jesus would get me there.

To be fair, they wanted as many people to join them in the heavenly realm as possible. So, they were welcoming and wonderful. But my teenage self got the feeling that life on earth was (in their theology) just an unpleasant inconvenience.

That is not an uncommon idea in Christian circles (unfortunately). But the Easter story suggests an alternative approach.

Throughout his ministry, Jesus called people to an awareness of ‘the kingdom of God.’ His parables helped people imagine what it might be like – he suggested that it was very near to the person who caught the meaning of these parables. Jesus spent the best part of three years preparing his disciples for life on this earth – always implying that the work would go on after he left.

The disciples couldn’t seem to penetrate the message – or didn’t want to hear that their beloved rabbi might be brutally murdered. The notion that he would be raised was just impossible for them to consider.

Jesus was giving them the tools to continue – to change the world by opening hearts and minds to the reality of God’s active presence in their lives – in this world.

We treasure the idea that there is a place beyond this one – a place of perfect peace, and eternal rest. But the message of the Easter story is that the holy presence is not reserved for some distant time and place. The resurrection has put God out among us – sharing the journey with us – breaking bread and grieving loss with us. The ‘heaven’ we long for is very near to us, and we who would follow Jesus need only to love our neighbour and feed the hungry and care deeply for the world and those in it to get a glimpse of that glorious kingdom.

Jesus brought it close to Clopas and his companion that day – his presence – his teaching – his hospitality. Each of these moments opened the door to heaven a little further. “Didn’t our hearts burn within us…” they say – once there is time to consider what had happened. These small acts of living – Jesus’ loving lesson to his disciples – helped to seal the understanding that the kingdom is where love and fellowship and mercy and goodness are offered. The kingdom is lived into existence, and it may be that no one will recognize that at first. The gift of that kingdom’s presence – like the identity of the Risen Christ – are often only recognized after the fact.

You and I have a chance – every day – to give someone a glimpse of that glorious kingdom. Our gentle witness, our quiet belief, our determination to offer kindness and see justice done and welcome the stranger and love one another – these simple expressions of faith are all it takes to remind the world that God has come close – and so has God’s reign of peace and grace.

We can be Easter people – we must be Easter people. The world is longing for signs of God’s grace and hope.