And behold, two of them were going that very day to a village named Emmaus, which was about seven miles from Jerusalem. And they were talking with each other about all these things which had taken place.
Luke 24:13-14 (NASB1995)
We were on the road home to Emmaus, and anywhere was better than Jerusalem at this time. We walked in long silences broken by the occasional brief question-and-answer session. We found no good answers to what we had witnessed. Both of our hearts were broken for our sister Mary, who had lost her husband a few years ago, and now she bore the agony of watching her oldest son die on a Roman cross.
I pondered this in one of our silences as I looked at the face of my wife; it was still red with tears from our sad farewell with those we left in Jerusalem. A warm, gentle breeze shook the trees as we walked the narrow road of the valley leading home. The birds would be raising young soon… life continued despite the death that broke our hearts. He was more than our nephew; Jesus was our Messiah. I remember when Mary and Joseph, my brother-in-law, arrived home from their travels with their lad, it was clear he was different from the other children. These thoughts started our conversation again,
“If He was the Messiah, how could He die on a cross?”
Neither of us had any answers that made sense to us. It was then that we became aware of the footsteps of someone walking up behind us.
As we turned to look at who was coming up the hill, He greeted us
“Shalom, my friends, may I walk this road with you?”
“We are only going as far as Emmaus, but you are welcome to join us,” I greeted the young man.
We walked in silence for a short time, then He asked us
“What were you discussing earlier as I approached?”
Our heads went down, and He saw the sadness in our faces. I told Him of our grief for our sister and family, the expectations that we had, the cruel death of our nephew, and the claims of some that very morning that the body was gone from the tomb. Then this stranger began explaining the scriptures to us, and we listened intently as he led us through the Word of God regarding the Messiah. Time flew by as he taught us,
“How did one so young come to have the wisdom of a rabbi?”
I thought as we soaked up all His words, which shone light on our previous darkness.
We were sad to reach Emmaus so soon and to part from our walking companion,
“Please, the day is late, come home and have some supper with us,” we beckoned Him.
We were thrilled when He consented, and we continued chatting as we approached home. Mary was full of energy as she quickly prepared some food for us and our guest. As we reclined at the table, our guest lifted the bread before us, smiled, and blessed the meal as He broke the loaf slowly, uttering the blessing in a very familiar voice. Suddenly, both of us looked up at Him, and then at each other, aghast,
“It is Him!” Mary said.
We turned to look at Him, He was gone.
“It was Him, wasn’t it ?” I said as we jumped to our feet, Mary was nodding and laughing excitedly in agreement. He was alive!
We left the food where it lay and quickly donned our cloaks to return the way we came,
“Wait till the folks in Jerusalem hear this,” I said as we marched down the road back to the city.
The miles flew by, and we burst into the house where the disciples were,
“You will never believe who we have just met,“ I began.
This is an updated edition of a post originally published on Devotional Treasures
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