Today, we’re going to hop on over to the gospel according to Luke for one of the classic Easter stories – the walk to Emmaus.
This encounter takes place on the day of resurrection.
Scripture: Luke 24:13-35
Now on that same day two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem, and talking with each other about all these things that had happened. While they were talking and discussing, Jesus himself came near and went with them, but their eyes were kept from recognizing him. And he said to them, ‘What are you discussing with each other while you walk along?’ They stood still, looking sad. Then one of them, whose name was Cleopas, answered him, ‘Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have taken place there in these days?’ He asked them, ‘What things?’ They replied, ‘The things about Jesus of Nazareth, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, and how our chief priests and leaders handed him over to be condemned to death and crucified him. But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel. Yes, and besides all this, it is now the third day since these things took place. Moreover, some women of our group astounded us. They were at the tomb early this morning, and when they did not find his body there, they came back and told us that they had indeed seen a vision of angels who said that he was alive. Some of those who were with us went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said; but they did not see him.’ Then he said to them, ‘Oh, how foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have declared! Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into his glory?’ Then beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them the things about himself in all the scriptures.
As they came near the village to which they were going, he walked ahead as if he were going on. But they urged him strongly, saying, ‘Stay with us, because it is almost evening and the day is now nearly over.’ So he went in to stay with them. When he was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him; and he vanished from their sight. They said to each other, ‘Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?’ That same hour they got up and returned to Jerusalem; and they found the eleven and their companions gathered together. They were saying, ‘The Lord has risen indeed, and he has appeared to Simon!’ Then they told what had happened on the road, and how he had been made known to them in the breaking of the bread.
Mary had to hear her name to recognize Jesus. Thomas had to see and touch his wounds to believe. For these disciples, it was a moment of prayer and hospitality that opened their eyes. Jesus spent most of the day with them, walking and talking, teaching and explaining and hanging out – but they recognized him in the simple act of breaking bread.
I noticed something in this passage this week that I had never really paid attention to before – these disciples were sad. They were grieving. They had even heard Mary’s proclamation that an angel told her Jesus had been raised, but when this stranger asked what they were talking about while they walked, Luke says “they stood still, looking sad.”
This word for sad – skuthropos in Greek – is defined as a ‘sad or gloomy countenance.’ It only appears one other time in the New Testament, when Jesus is talking about how the Pharisees would make themselves look downtrodden and bedraggled while they fasted, just for the attention. This is grief you can see on their face.
But still, as they went on together, they told this stranger about Jesus. Then they offer this heartbreaking line: “we had hoped he was the one to liberate Israel.” We had hoped.
But they’d lost that hope. They were leaving the city and, presumably, going home. And that’s where they meet Jesus. He doesn’t try to persuade them to turn around. He does call them foolish, and slow to believe, but they seem to take that in stride as they walk and talk all the way to Emmaus.
And after he is revealed and disappears again, they get their lightbulb moment. They figure out that Jesus’ presence and work in our lives often makes more sense in retrospect, and things start clicking into place, and they immediately leave again and go back to Jerusalem to tell the others.
Throughout the gospels, Jesus says and does things that don’t seem to make sense to his followers and disciples.
He tells them ‘beware the yeast of the Pharisees and Sadducees’, and they think he’s being petty about the fact they didn’t bring bread with them.
But later, when they are religious leaders themselves, they begin to understand that Jesus was talking about the addiction to power and influence that can spread through religious communities and leadership circles like yeast in a jar of flour.
When Jesus took on the role of the lowest household servant by washing his disciples’ feet, telling them to serve one another in the same way, Peter was like ‘nope, too weird, I’m out, this is not how this whole thing is supposed to work.’
But he came to understand later that though he is Peter, the Rock, the leader even among the apostles, he does not get a throne or a crown. Instead, he gets to solve petty disputes between leaders and eat with Gentiles and Samaritans and occasionally get thrown in prison. Then he truly understands why Jesus did what he did.
Even after the resurrection, at one point the disciples ask “are you going to restore the kingdom now?”
As in, are you going to go overthrow the Romans and become king over Judea and show them all who’s boss?
Jesus does not do that, because that was not his mission. Instead, he commands them to stay in Jerusalem and wait, saying: “But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”
And they do. According to church tradition, Thomas winds up in India, Peter travels all over and eventually is martyred in Rome, Andrew went north into Turkey and eastern Europe, Phillip and Matthew went south to northern Africa, Simon went to Persia – now Iran and Afghanistan, and many others travelled to other various corners of the known world.
So eventually, the preoccupation with kings and kingdoms changes to reflect what they come to know about the reign of Jesus: that it was never meant to be a political entity here and now, but instead we are citizens of a heavenly kingdom that will never fade.
All of this is why I appreciate the Bible’s perspectives so much. Even the earliest versions of the gospels were written down 70-100 years after Jesus’ death, so it would’ve been so, so easy for the writers and editors of these texts to make the apostles perfect students, heroes, people who just understood Jesus without all the cajoling and sighing and explaining and re-explaining and re-explaining.
But instead, what we get is a bunch of rowdy, somewhat clueless, rough-around-the-edges young folks who grow into their faith and understanding over the course of their lifetimes. We get to look at the Bible and see people asking questions, and not getting it, and asking the same questions again, and learning things the hard way. We get to see Jesus’ patience and compassion as a teacher at work.
So what does this mean for us?
It means that we too can look back at our lives, our families, our histories, and our experiences without the need for rose-colored glasses. If Jesus’ work easier to understand in hindsight, then we can open the book of ourselves, our families, our country and our faith and look for Christ’s presence even in the most confusing and disorienting moments.
Do y’all know the footprints in the sand poem?
It was written by Carolyn Joyce Carty, and it tells a story about a man. This man has a dream that he’s walking along a beach with the Lord, while scenes from his life play in the sky. As the last scene plays, he looks back at the beach and sees that at the lowest, saddest parts of his life, there is only one set of footprints. He turns to the Lord and says ‘why did you leave me?’ And the Lord replies: ‘I never left. Whenever you see one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.’
That’s what I mean when I say Jesus makes sense in retrospect. We don’t always see God’s handiwork or understand it in the moment, but that doesn’t mean nothing is happening. That doesn’t mean we’ll never get it. It just means we’re human, we’re learning, and we’re growing. And all of that is good.
One more quick thing to point out: in every single instance, when Jesus appears to his disciples after his resurrection, he finds them. There’s no scavenger hunt, no hide-and-seek, no clues to decipher, no secret handshakes to master.
The risen Christ is not hiding, waiting for us to figure everything out. We do not have to find him or bring him anywhere. Wherever we are and wherever we go, Christ is already there, within us and among us.
This is good news indeed. Amen.