This past Easter, believers walked out of nicely decorated buildings and back onto the dusty roads of everyday life, not unlike Cleopas and his companion heading to Emmaus (Luke 24: 13-35). These travelers were witnesses to the first Easter, and it was anything but glorious. The man they had pinned all their Messianic hopes upon had been crucified.
The movement was going so well--crowds thronged for healings, miracles occurred; many followers were sure that Israel's victorious deliverance from the oppressive Romans was at hand.
We’ve all experienced a lot of “but then” moments, haven’t we? The followers of Jesus were thrown into three head-spinning days of confusion and despair. Bewildered, they watched their leader refuse to defend himself against the trumped-up charges. All hell broke loose! No one knew what to do. In the end, there was Jesus--bloodied and gasping for every breath on a cross. Now his friends feared for their lives. It seemed all of Jerusalem was stirred up about the claims of the carpenter turned lunatic.
We don’t know for sure, but Cleopas and his friend probably thought it wise to put some distance between themselves and the conflict. Perhaps in a quiet and safer place, they could come to terms with what happened. The latest rumors that Jesus’ body was missing and Mary's wild report of seeing Jesus alive added to their confusion. The men didn’t know what to believe!
On this year’s journey beyond the pristine church doors, maybe you’re traveling on your own Emmaus—a road between what is versus what you expected. With every dusty step, reality clashes with what you thought were sure promises from a good God. Like your fellow travelers from that first Easter, you’re no longer sure what to believe. With precious parts of your life ripped away, it appears God just stood by and watched. Adding to your turmoil are conflicting, confusing “explanations” from family members and well-meaning Christians.
The two Emmaus-bound disciples in Luke’s account had much to discuss, much to try to reason with and perhaps, reason away. They were attempting to sort out all that had happened when a fellow traveler joined them. I believe the fog of analysis was so heavy that it clouded their ability to recognize their new companion.
(I refuse to count how many times, in trying hard to take control of a situation, I missed His “arrival”. Do you remember the Bible story of the disciples desperately toiling to keep control of their boat in a storm? It’s in Mark 6:45-52. Jesus came near, walking on the water. However, Mark’s report interestingly adds, “He would have passed by them.” The guys were so focused on the problem and the need to row themselves to safety that they almost missed the answer to their prayers. There was Jesus--standing on top of the very thing that was threatening to destroy them!)
Back on the road to Emmaus, Jesus briefly inquired into the nature of his traveling companions’ deep discussion. They reported in detail everything they had witnessed done by the hands of the Pharisees and the Romans, and the latest claims by the disciples--everything except what Jesus taught them on numerous occasions--all the news except the good news housed in the Scriptures confirming this redemptive moment in history!
Under fire, I tend to forget the Words of Jesus as well. I look everywhere for an answer but in the Bible. I listen more readily to the opinions and speculations of others. By the time I get around to prayer, my mind is filled with all kinds of vain imaginations. I may be a quick thinker, but my spiritual heart is often slow to grasp God’s truth.
In verse twenty-five, Jesus exclaimed, “You fools and slow of heart to believe…” The word for fools here in the Greek means “One who drops to a lower level of thinking—only using the intellect—that tends to lead to moral fault”. In other words, slow-hearted people can more easily err in their assessments.
After being called slow-hearted by a total ‘stranger”, stunned Cleopas and his friend were at a loss for words! (Maybe that’s what Jesus was after with his stinging rebuke!) They had heard many things, but it was time for them to listen.
This unusual traveler on the Emmaus Road began to teach from the Scriptures—from Moses to the prophets—on how the seemingly tragic events they witnessed back in Jerusalem were part of God’s triumphant plan all along (actually, since before the world began). This time, they got it!
The two disciples were amazed at the turn around in their understanding. What they assumed was a tragic loss for them as Christ’s followers was a gain for the whole world—Salvation...accomplished and secured for all who would believe—now and forever. The answers they sought had been right before them!
And another curious thing occurred: as they listened, their hearts began to burn deep within. (It’s not the kind of condition Prilosec or Tums can treat.) The Living Word Himself was burning away all the sludge from His slow-hearted friends. That’s how I know Jesus is communing with me—His words of life ignite a fire deep within, bypassing my intellect and fickle emotions, moving beyond my fears and stubborn mindsets.
When what has been clogging your vision is burned away, then whatever you picked up this year or had to put down against your will reveals itself in a different light. You start to see a redemptive story that you never could have imagined—one powerful enough to break any barrier in order to reach others who are broken and slow of heart.
Stay on your Emmaus Road a little longer. It’s right after Easter, so I expect Jesus will come alongside any time now. You may not recognize him at first, but just listen to your companion. You might get the best case of heartburn you’ve ever had.
(We’re not through with Cleopas and his friend’s encounter with the Risen Lord. In my next post, we’ll discover exactly when their eyes were open to behold Jesus, and the reward that comes when the focus shifts from wanting answers to needing fellowship.)