Reverent Conduct
Homily for the Third Sunday of Easter
“Conduct yourselves with reverence during the time of your sojourning.”
That single line from the First Letter of St. Peter is the heart of today’s message. Peter is speaking to Christians who are scattered, uncertain, and trying to make sense of their identity in a world that doesn’t always understand them. He calls them sojourners—a word that is not part of our ordinary, everyday vocabulary which identifies us as people on a journey, people who don’t fully belong to the world as it is, because they belong to the world as God is making it. That is exactly what Easter is about. Easter is not just the story of Jesus rising from the dead. Easter is also the story of who we are now because He rose.
Peter reminds us that we were ransomed, not with silver or gold, but “with the precious blood of Christ.” In other words, our lives are not accidents, and our worth is not measured by what we achieve or what we own. Our identity is anchored in something infinitely more stable than what the world has to offer. We are anchored by the love of God for us revealed in the death and resurrection of Jesus.
This is why Peter can say, “conduct yourselves with reverence;” not because we fear God’s wrath, not because we fear punishment, or fear of failure. We are to live a reverence born from knowing that our lives matter to God. Easter people don’t walk through life afraid. Easter people walk through life aware—aware that God has invested Himself in us.
The Gospel today, from Luke 24, gives us the perfect illustration. Two disciples walk away from Jerusalem; in other words, they are walking the wrong way. Ever since chapter nine of St. Luke’s narrative, Jesus and his followers were walking toward Jerusalem. However, these disciples, Cleophas and his wife, are walking away from hope, away from what they thought God was doing. They are confused, disappointed, and spiritually exhausted. Jesus meets them on the road. He doesn’t wait for them to get it together. He doesn’t wait for them to return to Jerusalem. He walks with them in their confusion. This is a pattern in the Scriptures. God met the people of the old covenant where they were. Now Christ meets us where we are, not where we think we should be. As we hear that his conversation with these two disciples opens their eyes, we are meant to ask “How does He open our eyes?” The answer is the same for all of us. Our eyes are opened by the Scriptures and through the breaking of the bread, through the Word and through the Eucharist, through Scripture and Sacrament. This is how the Risen Christ opens our eyes today. Cleophas and his wife comment, “Were not our hearts burning within us?” How about us? Are our heart burning having heard God’s Word and consumed God’s Word incarnate.
The psalmist says: “You will show me the path of life.” Every sojourner, everyone on a journey needs this path. The psalmist, probably David, is someone who knows that God is not a distant observer but an intimate guide. “You are my inheritance.” “You are at my right hand.” “You will not abandon me.” Peter actually quotes this psalm in the first reading from Acts that we heard today. He applies it directly to Jesus. Because we belong to Christ, the psalm becomes our prayer too. We can live with confidence because the God who raised Jesus from the dead is the God who walks with us.
Peter calls us “sojourners,” but not wanderers. We are not lost. We are not drifting. We are on a path—the path of life. To live as Easter people means: We don’t cling to the old ways of fear or sin. We don’t measure our worth by the world’s standards. We don’t walk alone; Christ walks with us. We don’t despair; we hope. We don’t hide; we witness. Peter says that through Christ we have come to trust in God, “who raised Him from the dead and gave Him glory.” Then he adds: “so that your faith and hope are in God.”
That is the Easter identity. Faith and hope—not in ourselves, not in circumstances, not in luck, but in God.
What does this mean for us, here and now? Well first of all, we have to ask ourselves, “Are we walking in the wrong direction. Are we walking away from the mysteries revealed in Jerusalem. It means that every time we come to Mass, we can bring our confusion, our disappointments, our questions because Christ will meet us here—in the Word that sets our hearts burning, and in the Eucharist where He is made known to us. It means that our daily lives—our workplaces, our homes, our struggles—are not random. They are the terrain of our sojourning, the places where we live out reverence, our gratitude, and our hope. It means that we are called to live differently because we have been redeemed differently.
This Easter season, let’s take Peter’s words seriously: “Conduct yourselves with reverence during the time of your sojourning.” Not because we are afraid, but because we are loved. Not because we are lost, but because we are found. Not because we are uncertain, but because Christ walks with us. May our hearts burn within us as we hear His Word. May our eyes be opened in the breaking of the bread. And may our lives proclaim that we are people of the Resurrection.
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