Luke 24:13-35
“Now that same day two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem. They were talking with each other about everything that had happened [the events leading up to and including Jesus’ death]. As they talked and discussed these things with each other, Jesus himself came up and walked along with them; but they were kept from recognizing him.
He asked them, “What are you discussing together as you walk along?”
They stood still, their faces downcast. One of them, named Cleopas, asked him, “Are you the only one visiting Jerusalem who does not know the things that have happened there in these days?”
“What things?” he asked.
“About Jesus of Nazareth,” they replied. “He was a prophet, powerful in word and deed before God and all the people. The chief priests and our rulers handed him over to be sentenced to death, and they crucified him; but we had hoped that he was the one who was going to redeem Israel. And what is more, it is the third day since all this took place. In addition, some of our women amazed us. They went to the tomb early this morning but didn’t find his body. They came and told us that they had seen a vision of angels, who said he was alive. Then some of our companions went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said, but they did not see Jesus.”
He said to them, “How foolish you are, and how slow to believe all that the prophets have spoken! Did not the Messiah have to suffer these things and then enter his glory?” And beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, he explained to them what was said in all the Scriptures concerning himself.
As they approached the village to which they were going, Jesus continued on as if he were going farther. But they urged him strongly, “Stay with us, for it is nearly evening; the day is almost over.” So he went in to stay with them.
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, and he disappeared from their sight. They asked each other, “Were not our hearts burning within us while he talked with us on the road and opened the Scriptures to us?”
They got up and returned at once to Jerusalem. There they found the Eleven and those with them, assembled together and saying, “It is true! The Lord has risen and has appeared to Simon.” Then the two told what had happened on the way, and how Jesus was recognized by them when he broke the bread.”
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Do you remember that heart stopping moment as a child when you lost sight of your parents in a crowd? When, suddenly, your main source of security was gone and you were crushed by a sudden terrifying awareness of how threatening the world was without them?
I remember that fear. I also remember the sheer joy when I’d see my mum again or hear her voice before rushing up to embrace her.
At the beginning of the passage, the two people we meet are hopelessness personified. The death of a man called Jesus had been so real, so traumatic, that there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that he was gone. So crushed by the loss of their friend, two devastated disciples walk away from Jerusalem, their shoulders hunched, their heads bowed, their hearts broken.
Jesus had been brutally executed and their dreams of the new world, of eternal life, promised by Jesus has died with him. As they walk away from Jerusalem to Emmaus, a stranger walks alongside them and explains that all is not lost.
Such is their sadness, they do not recognise the face, the voice, the body of this stranger who walks besides them and comforts them. Only at the end of their time together, in the act of sharing food and drink, do they finally recognise the stranger to be Jesus himself.
Their hope returns and the world is as it should be. They feel like I did, and so much more, when I saw my mother in the crowd and knew everything would be well again. They turn around and head straight back to Jerusalem.
They had heard the reports that Jesus was alive. They had been told of the resurrection. But they hadn’t believed it. They had loved Jesus but they lacked hope.
They knew the gospel, but couldn’t see it. Until God opened their eyes.
There is something in the experience of these two disciples which resonates with my experience of faith.
I am still walking that road and, in the messiness of life, trying to decipher where God is in the midst of it. I want to write and understand where God is, and how he transforms all things, including me.
I have a confession to make. Perhaps you’ve come across this strange phenomenon elsewhere; someone who says they like writing yet doesn’t seem to actually do it. That’s me. So, part of this blog is me ‘just doing it’.
My Christian faith is so important to my writing. God incarnate, Word made flesh. Words are precious and a way in which God communicates to us.
Careless words can tear people apart, ruin friendships. Unspoken words can destroy trust and eat away at the heart. Yet words can redeem, words can speak tenderly, words can heal. Words matter.
So, here I am, writing and seeing where it takes me as I try to walk with God. Come on the journey with me, as I try and turn away from Emmaus and head back to Jerusalem.
The Road to Emmaus 