Wednesday in the Octave of Easter, April 23, 2025
(click here to listen to or read today’s scriptures)
Emmaus
Two of Jesus’ disciples were going to a village seven miles from Jerusalem called Emmaus, and they spoke together about all the things that had just occurred.
Christ has died, Christ has risen … that’s enough for a fascinating conversation between two witnesses of both events.
Christ will come again.
They are about to hear about this too.
Jesus himself drew near and walked with them, and they did not recognize him. He asked them what they were talking about.
Can anybody cover this on a seven mile walk? Their pace must have quickened as their words poured out, because Jesus asked them about all they had seen and heard. And they told him.
Jesus was a prophet mighty in word and deed before God and all people. Rulers handed him over to be crucified, and he was crucified, dead and buried. Now on the third day women in our group went to the tomb and did not find his body, and they saw a vision of angels who announced that he had risen. But we have not seen Jesus!
Jesus was not surprised; indeed, he called his listeners foolish. And then he began to explain to them what had happened by looking back at the Scriptures, beginning “with Moses and all the prophets.” Jesus had done this same thing for them before he was arrested, but they did not understand. Or believe. Or both.
Cleopas and his friend urged the stranger, “Stay with us tonight. The day is nearly over.”
In American culture most of us are not likely to make that invitation. We need a little assurance that the stranger won’t steal our silver.  But in other parts of the world, not today and certainly not two thousand years ago, trust played a larger part in interactions with strangers. Not everyone had a house or apartment, not everyone had all they needed to eat for every meal.
When we moved from a farmhouse on Dad’s farm to Urbana, Illinois in 1989, I remember wanting to find a small house in an integrated, inexpensive neighborhood, where our neighbors were more likely to spend at least some time outside rather than cooped up inside their living rooms and kitchens. Where front doors were fifty feet apart rather than 500, because the lots were “normal” rather than “luxury-sized.” Where people didn’t have so much to hang onto for dear life.
We found a house like that, and although we spend most of our time in Austin, that house is still in the family, and it is waiting for us to get back there for three months this summer. Our neighbor on one side mows our lawn without being asked. Our neighbor on the other side is a vet-med student with a few chickens in the back yard. Our neighbors across the street sometimes come over and borrow tools, which they promptly return.
So we have some understanding of those folks walking to Emmaus, offering their home and hospitality to a stranger with such fascinating ideas about Jesus.
He went in to stay with them. At table he took bread, said the blessing, broke the bread and gave it to them. With that their eyes were opened, and they recognized Jesus. Then he vanished from their sight.
Not a ghost. Ghosts don’t break bread. This was Jesus, the walking, talking, eating man no longer dead, but alive. Christ has died, Christ has risen, Christ will come again. Can you imagine how much those disciples had to say as they ran back to Jerusalem? Jesus had joined them, listened to them, spoke with them, and in the midst of their hospitality showed himself to them in the breaking of bread and in prayers.
Were not our hearts burning within us?
 (Acts 3, Psalm 105, Psalm 118, Luke 24)
(posted at www.davesandel.net)
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