Going for a walk

Setting: a road leading out of Jerusalem, on the first day of the resurrection of Jesus.

That very day, two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, which lay about seven miles from Jerusalem. 

One of them was named Cleopas and the other was a friend, maybe his wife. They had been caught up in the rising excitement of following Jesus, had perhaps followed him to Jerusalem. They had hoped that he would be the one to save Israel. And now, they were returning home, brokenhearted, to try to pick up the pieces of their lives. 

A deeply troubling present and an unknown future. We can relate to these two on their sad walk. 

They were discussing with each other all the various things that had taken place. As they were discussing, and arguing with each other, Jesus himself approached and walked with them. Their eyes, though, were prevented from recognizing him. 

What has happened? What is happening now? How to make sense of the crushing of hopes and dreams? What will the religious leaders and Roman occupiers do with those who had been followers of Jesus? What’s next? What should we do? Will we make it? When life suddenly changes, we find ourselves cast into a world of fear and uncertainty, sadness and danger. Life has changed. Everything needs to be re-interpreted.  

“You’re obviously having a very important discussion on your walk,” he said; “What’s it all about?” 

They stood still, a picture of gloom. 

Then one of them, Cleopas by name, answered him, “You must be the only person around Jerusalem who doesn’t know what’s been going here these last few days.” 

“What things?” he asked.

(Please see the humor here! Don’t you think Jesus is enjoying himself?)

And then, the unrecognized Jesus joins their walk. They tell him about their devastated hope, about the crucifixion of the one they thought was going to save Israel. They tell him the confusing story of a missing body and a vision of angels. He listens to their pain and confusion, then says,

“Don’t you see? This is what had to happen: The Messiah had to suffer and come into his glory!”

So he began with Moses, and with all the prophets, and explained to them the things about himself throughout the whole Bible.

Their hearts burned within them as words they’d known came alive with new meaning. The pieces started to come together into a more glorious picture than their most hopeful dreams had imagined. Victory through suffering, life through death, and a salvation more vast than temporary deliverance from Roman occupation. 

Did they see the fields they were walking past? Did they hear the song of spring birds? Did they notice the lengthening shadows as the sun started to reach the horizon? As evening drew near, the group of three reached Emmaus. Cleopas and his companion couldn’t bear the thought of parting company with this man, and they asked him to stay. 

He came in, broke bread and blessed it. And just as they recognized him, he vanished.

Cleopas and his friend were left, amazed, at the table with the broken bread. I imagine that at first they must have stared at each other in astonishment. And then they talked about their experience of the afternoon: Do you remember how our hearts were burning inside in us as he talked to us on the road, as he opened up the Bible for us? Then, even though it was evening after a long day, they got up and started the seven mile walk in reverse, back to Jerusalem, to tell the others that they had seen the living Christ. 

When we have to walk through times of anxiety, uncertainty, loss and grief, we talk with each other and try to make sense of our world’s trouble. As we walk together (whether in person or through phones and screens), let’s also be alert for the presence of Another. He just might come to us in the song of a bird, the words on a page, or the company of a friend. He invites us to share our confusion and anxiety with him. And now, through the Holy Spirit, he promises to be always with us, until the end. We might not recognize him right away. We keep walking, step by step, hour by hour, day by day. In his perfect time, he will open our eyes. And we will be amazed.

(translation of Luke 24:13-35 by N.T. Wright.)