If you watch “American Idol”, you know that the judges are always going on about the performers needing to “have their moment”. By this the judges seem to mean that to win the competition a singer needs to perform a song in such a way that everything comes together to the point that the viewers suddenly see them in a new light, and recognize that they are really something special. It is like that “Ta-da!” moment when the magician waves his wand and the rabbit comes out of the hat or the box is opened to reveal that the assistant has mysteriously vanished, and the audience cannot help but let out a collective “wow!”

As I wrestled with the texts for this service, it occurred to me that Jesus would just not have made it on “American Idol”, because, quite frankly, he has this opportunity for his moment, and he blows it. Imagine how Hollywood would have scripted that first Easter morning. It is soon after dawn, and approaching the tomb out of the mists is not just a few women, but all of Jesus’ disciples, all who had followed him for so long. And then, as they approach the tomb, the music swells dramatically, “Ta-da”, out walks Jesus, group hugs all around, they hoist him onto their shoulders and march off into the warming rays of the new day.

Instead, this is what Jesus gives us: an empty tomb, three less than credible witnesses whose words are dismissed as “an idle tale”, and then that strange meeting on the road to Emmaus, where his own followers don’t even recognize who it is talking with them.

The text does not tell us why they don’t recognize Jesus, but I think we have a good idea. Like their fellow oppressed Jews, these two followers of Jesus had had high hopes. They had hoped that Jesus would be the longed-for savior of Israel, but, as so often is the lot of the suffering oppressed, they had been sadly disappointed. Once again the powers that be had triumphed; once again, the power of bloody violence had squashed one who had spoken so earnestly about the power of love and forgiveness and the turning of the other cheek; once again it had been proven that you can’t fight City Hall; once again evil had shown it will always prevail.

So tails tucked between their legs these two set their faces homeward, back to the little village of Emmaus. Now was the time to radically down-size their hopes. Now was the time to go home, get back to the old routine, and maybe try, in their own little ways, to make some sort of small difference in the world. Because it was quite clear to them that they were on their own.

I think we have a good idea about why those two did not recognize Jesus, because we, in our own lives, have had our own disappointments, our own unmet expectations, our own encounters with that story that has permeated history ever since it started to be written down – suffering and violence, loss and pain, disappointment and disillusionment. We have suffered the loss of loved ones; we have witnessed the mistakes of our children, the bad relationships, the falls into addiction; we have struggled in our careers and jobs and at school; we have been shaken to our very foundations by betrayal and sheer happenstance. Things have gone, and are going, very, very wrong, so much so that we begin to think that we are in this entirely on our own.

But we are often have this stubborn streak within us, and there is a part of us which rebels against the idea of just lying down, so what we do is we get to work. Author and pastor William Willimon comments, “In the face of death and mayhem, the best we can muster, if we have an ounce of moral seriousness about us, is compassionate busyness. Since God isn’t going to help with the heavy lifting, it is up to us.”

The good news of Easter for us is the same good news of Easter made known to those disciples on the road to Emmaus. It is when we are at out low point, when we are so wrapped up in ourselves and our sorrows and predicaments, so busy putting one foot in front of the other that we might just keep plodding along through life, so intent even on single-handedly making a difference that – Ta-da! -- God finds us.

This is how author Madeleine L’Engle puts it: “It is when things go wrong, when good things do not happen . . . that God is most present. [Without realizing it] we are closest to God in the darkness, stumbling along blindly.”

And so the trip to Emmaus takes a dramatic twist. This stranger is cajoled into remaining with the two disciples for the evening, and then at table, he took bread, and blessed it, and broke it, and gave it to them. “Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him.”

And everything changes. Instead of grimly continuing on with their hope-less, compassionate busyness, they rise and turn back to Jerusalem, back to the scene of their greatest heartache and tragedy, but this time full of joy.

And now we realize that this is why Jesus does not give us that big “American Idol” moment – because for Jesus, it is not about him, and it was never about him, and it was always about us, about God’s love for us. It was never about him, it was always about a love that was determined and focused and relentless and self-sacrificing. It was about a love so powerful that, in the words of Paul the Apostle, Christ Jesus, “though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness . . . [and] humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death – even death on a cross.” (Phil. 2:6-8)

And God’s love, Jesus is telling us by his actions, is like this. It is not closeted away from us, locked away in a cold dark tomb; it is not there for us only when we come home with a report card full of straight “A”s, or when we make it big in our new start-up, or when our film wins the Oscars, or when we have the perfect marriage, or when we achieve whatever marker of success the world tells us is important, or even when we struggle long and hard in search of God. No, God’s love is a love that comes searching for us even when – especially when – we are crushed by disappointment, have failed miserably at what we were trying to achieve, have let down others and let down our self. It is a love that comes for us even when we are so wrapped up in ourselves and our “stuff” that looking for God is not even on our minds.

It is a love which whether we realize it or not walks the long road right by our side, that sits at table with us as we enjoy our daily bread, and that at unexpected moments, in the most every day of occurrences, can open our eyes to a joy almost beyond belief.

And it is a love which takes us out of our aimlessness and busyness and gives us a mission, gives us a purpose, sends us off to our Galilees of service and our Jerusalems of witness, but not left on our own – no, sent off in partnership with the One who triumphs even over the powers of death.

Jesus took the bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to the two disciples, and their eyes were opened, and they recognized him. Now they realize – and we can as well -- that what the world would tell us is a lie – death does not have the final say, we are not alone, with the power of God the kingdom will come, on earth as it is in heaven, and He shall reign for ever and ever, King of kings, and Lord of lords, forever, and ever, hallelujah, hallelujah!