There is a moment in the resurrection story that does not get as much attention as the empty tomb or the first appearances, but as I studied it this week, I wonder if it may be equally important. It is the transformational moment when minds are opened and understanding begins to dawn. In the Gospel of Luke, the risen Christ stands among the disciples. He stands, yet again, in a space filled with uncertainty, and says, “Peace be with you.” Understandably, they are startled, frightened, unsure of what they are seeing. They think they are encountering a ghost. Even after everything they have heard, even after the reports of resurrection, they are still trying to make sense of it all.
And perhaps that is where we begin as well. Because resurrection is far from easy to understand. Resurrection does not fit neatly into our categories. It does not arrive in ways that are obvious or clear. It disrupts our assumptions. It challenges our expectations. It invites us into something we cannot fully control or explain. We like the disciples are living in that tension. They have heard the news, but they do not yet know what it means. They have seen glimpses, but they do not yet understand the whole of what Easter means. They are caught in the time between confusion and clarity.
And so, Jesus meets them there. In Jesus’ gracious way, He does not rush them. He does not demand instant belief. He shows them his hands and his feet. He invites them to touch. He eats with them. He meets them in ways they CAN recognize. And then comes this remarkable line: “Then he opened their minds to understand the scriptures.”
This is the turning point. Because resurrection is not only something to be seen; it is something to be understood. Understood, not just intellectually, but spiritually, with our whole selves. Easter reshapes how we see everything: our past, our present, and our future. But here is the deeper question this raises for us: What does it mean for our minds to be opened by Christ? Because the disciples could not do this on their own. They had the scriptures. They had the teachings. They had the experiences. And still, they did not yet fully see. It was only when Jesus opened their minds that understanding began to take root.
So what about us? If we are like the disciples, then where might our minds still be closed? Closed by fear? Closed by assumptions about what is possible? Closed by the belief that certain things are finished and cannot live again? Closed by the idea that resurrection is something that happened back then. Not something that is happening now? We live in a world that usually trains us to see through limitation. To define reality by what we can measure, control, or predict. And while those ways of seeing have their place, they can also narrow our vision when we think of the spiritual life. They can make it difficult to recognize the movement of God.
As we address this question, I think that to have our minds opened by Christ is to begin seeing differently. To see possibility where we once saw endings. To see grace where we once saw failure. To see life where we once saw only loss. It is to have our perspective shifted. Not because everything suddenly becomes clear, but because we begin to trust that God is at work in ways we do not yet fully understand. And perhaps most importantly, it is to see ourselves differently. Not just as observers of faith; but as participants in it. Not just as recipients of grace; but as bearers of it. Not just as people asking questions; but as people called to witness. When Jesus opens their minds, he is not just giving them information. He is giving them a new way of seeing; a new way of living. And immediately, that leads to their calling as Easter people.
Jesus helps them see that this was not a random event. It was not an interruption of the story. It was the fulfillment of it. “Thus it is written,” he says, “that the Messiah is to suffer and to rise from the dead on the third day, and that repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in his name to all nations.” And then he says, “You are witnesses of these things.” Not spectators, not just believers, but witnesses.
This is an important designation: a witness. A witness is someone who has encountered something real and cannot keep it to themselves. A witness does not need to have all the answers. A witness tells what they have seen, what they have experienced, what they know to be true. And this is where the movement of faith happens: from confusion to testimony, from fear to voice, from silence to proclamation.
We see this transformation clearly in the Acts of the Apostles. The same disciples who once hid behind closed doors are now standing in public, speaking boldly. Peter, who once denied Jesus, now proclaims, “You killed the Author of life, whom God raised from the dead. To this we are witnesses.” What changed? It was not that they suddenly became more articulate or more confident in themselves. What changed was the encounter of the risen Christ: their minds were opened, and their fear gave way to purpose.
Peter’s words are striking, not only for their boldness, but for their clarity. Peter connects what has happened in Jesus to the story of God’s people. He names the reality of human brokenness. And he offers a path forward: “Repent therefore, and turn to God so that your sins may be wiped out.” This is not about condemnation; repentance is about transformation. It is about turning toward life. And this brings us to the church today. Because we, too, are in a moment that requires understanding. The cultural landscape is shifting. Old assumptions no longer hold. The role of the church is changing. And many communities are asking: what now? There is a temptation by today’s standards to focus on institutional strength and lament the loss of it. But, this morning, we are reminded that the early church began not with structure, but with witness. The United Church of Canada, in its Toward 2035 vision, reminds us that the future church may be smaller, but deeper; less about maintaining and more about meaningful presence.
So this morning’s question becomes deeply personal: If someone asked you, “Why does the church matter?” how would you answer? Not with a program list, but from your life. Would you speak of community, of belonging, of hope, of transformation? That is witness. The future church will grow not through institutional strength alone, but through authentic witness. It will grow through people who can say, “I have seen something. I have experienced something. Christ has met me.” And that does not require perfection. That requires honesty, authenticity…witness. “You are witnesses of these things,” Jesus says. So may our minds be opened. May our hearts be stirred. May our voices be found. And may our lives bear witness to the resurrection. Not only in what we say, but in how we are Jesus’ people; how we are Jesus’ body in the world…and here in church.
Thanks be to God.
Amen