One thing I like in regards to the Bible is its tendency to concurrently shed light and to obscure, to comfort and confound. We find this unique dynamic at play on the very day that Jesus rises from the dead, when the Gospel of Luke points our attention toward the road to Emmaus. Catching two of Jesus’ unnamed disciples in the midst of a conversation, Luke describes them as being in a state of bewilderment, as they’ve began to listen to rumors of Jesus’ resurrection. As they walk along the road, the 2 process the heavy events of the last three days and the strange possibilities these recent reports contain. Though they weren’t a part of the unique Twelve, they appeared to have been close enough to the inner circle to catch wind of the not possible news that Jesus was alive.
Then, things get interesting: “While they were talking and discussing together, Jesus himself drew near and went with them” (Luke 24:15, ESV throughout). The resurrected Jesus interrupts their discussion—but they don’t recognize him. Luke attributes their blindness to a divine intention; Jesus doesn’t reveal himself. He simply walks with them on their long journey, incognito, discussing what’s on their minds.
It would have been an extended conversation over the span of the seven miles from Jerusalem to Emmaus. On average, people walk at a pace of three miles per hour, which implies Jesus traveled with them for about two and a half hours. He finally ends up guiding the dialogue into an extended, thorough Bible lesson. He makes a case from Scripture for why they weren’t mistaken about who they hoped Jesus could be. At some point on the journey, a light-weight began to crack within the hearts of this somber pair.
Suddenly, Jesus’ revelation occurs within the blink of a watch—summed up in just two short verses. When they finally arrive in Emmaus, Jesus pretends like he’s happening farther, but they insist he stays, and he does. The three of them sit down at a table, and Jesus takes bread and blesses it. He breaks the bread and provides it to them. Then they see. And then he vanishes.
Jesus vanishes at the precise moment the 2 disciples recognize him—it’s a sweet, fleeting consolation. They’re so overcome with joy that they determine to make the seven mile walk back to Jerusalem then and there, in the dead of night of night and in the sunshine of religion.
What are we to make of this story? Note the 2 sad disciples. When they leave Jerusalem, they’re disoriented and upset, carrying the heavy burden of abandonment. While a bigger gathered group waits to see whether Jesus’ resurrection is a reality, Jesus first reveals himself to those that feel alone, discouraged, and hopeless.
And yet, in certain ways, God continues to be within the business of concealing himself. “Truly you’re a God who hides himself,” says the prophet Isaiah (45:15). Perhaps some grace only works in secret. Perhaps some realities and wounds cause us to change into so brittle that anything greater than the patient, hidden care of God would crumble us like a dried-out leaf, returning us to the dust that we’re. Whatever the explanations, we will trust that our Savior is close. The Great Physician is tending to us with gentle attentiveness and precision, and with the slow patience that permits our deepest healing.
Here, I feel we’re given a vision of our own story. In this passage, we’re given a God’s-eye view of the situation—we all know what’s really happening, at the same time as the disciples don’t. Though we don’t have the privilege of this attitude in our day-to-day lives, we do know something now that they didn’t know then. The two disciples thought they were on the road to Emmaus, but they were actually on the road to a table: A table where the living Jesus fed their hungry hearts, healed their deepest wounds, and lit them ablaze within the confounding comfort of the Resurrection. That table is waiting for us too.
Jon Guerra is a singer-songwriter based in Austin, TX. He writes devotional music, composes for movies, and has released two albums.
This article is an element of Easter within the Everyday, a devotional to assist individuals, small groups, and families journey through the 2024 Lent & Easter season. Learn more about this special issue here!
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