One of my favorite stories in the Bible is the one of the two disciples walking the road to Emmaus on Easter (Luke 24.13-35). Cleopas and his friend were not among the twelve, but may have been two the of seventy Jesus sent out. And they definitely were among the 100 or so who gathered in the upper room. They tell the Easter story in a very special way:
Jesus died on Friday. Everybody in the upper room knows it, and seemingly everyone in Jerusalem. We tend to blame the chief priests and elders (mainly because we generally look for someone to blame). The believers knew where the tomb was, and that it was both sealed and guarded. They now had had an extra day (the Sabbath) to think about it.
The day starts with some women going to the grave. A little while latter they come back hysterical, cackling about the stone being rolled away, the tomb being empty and some dead men on the ground outside. They jabber about seeing an angel and who knows what else. Cleopas and some others run back to the tomb and, yes, the stone is rolled away and the tomb is empty. However, there are no bodies outside, no angels, and no Jesus – dead or alive, so they all return to the upper room. They remain distraught, fearful, grieving, and heartbroken – having lost all hope.
It is approaching noon and Cleopas’ home is some seven miles away. He decides to give up and go home as he says to himself, “It is going to take me 2, 3, maybe 4 hours to get there, so I better leave now.” A friend decides to go with him.
As they walk home, they talk about the past three days … the past week … likely even the past three years. There are many people walking along the same road, many of whom are heading home after Passover. Cleopas and his friend hardly notice the crowds, though, for they are so caught up in their conversation and emotions. That is, until they notice that someone they do not recognize seems to be walking with them and listening in. After a little while the stranger asks, “What in the world are you two talking about?” Shocked at the question, Cleopas asks, “Are you the only visitor to Jerusalem who does not know the things that have happened there in these days?” (24.18) The stranger simply asks, “What things?” (24.19)
Cleopas is astounded that the stranger does not know about Jesus and the crucifixion! I wonder how he told the story, and where he started it. Emmaus is not far from Bethany, so perhaps Cleopas met Jesus through Mary, Martha, and Lazarus. It could be that he was one who came to be with Lazarus when he died and witnessed his resurrection. Or perhaps he had first heard Jesus speaking, or witnessed a healing. Either way, I am sure he must have talked about the excitement of Palm Sunday, their Messianic hopes, the cleansing of the temple … how the chief priests and elders conspired against Jesus and had had him killed three days prior. Their story also included how heartbroken they were, and the strange stories they had heard earlier that day. Nothing made sense so they were going home to grieve by themselves and start over.
At this point the stranger speaks up, saying something like, “I’m trying to remember what Moses and the Prophets say about the Messiah.” Did he start with Genesis 3? He must have included the promises made to the patriarchs. Did he talk about Moses and Joshua. Surely he must have referenced Isaiah 53 and Psalm 16.10 as he explained, “Was it not necessary that the Christ should suffer these things and enter into his glory?” (24.26)
Time passes quickly while the conversation continues. Wheels are spinning in Cleopas’ head, when suddenly he realizes they have arrived at Emmaus. The stranger, who gives the impression of going to a destination farther down the road, is urged to spend the night so that they can continue the conversation. They sit down for supper … the stranger breaks the bread and blesses it … Cleopas suddenly recognizes that this stranger is no stranger at all, but Jesus in living flesh and blood … and then Jesus vanishes! Cleopas and his friend stare at each other in disbelief as they exclaim, “Did not our hearts burn within us while he talked to us on the road, while he opened to us the Scriptures?” (24.32) Hastily they clean up from supper, throw on their cloaks, and head back to Jerusalem as fast as they can.
The upper room is no longer quiet when they return. In fact, it seems as though everyone is talking at the same time. They hear that “the Lord has risen indeed, and has appeared to Simon!” (24.34) Eventually the room quiets down enough for Cleopas to share his story. The story is so special that we continue to tell it still today, over and over.
For me, one of the things what makes this story so special is that it displays a pattern that we first find in Genesis 3, then over and over in Scriptures, and still in our lives today. It starts with people being distraught, afraid, grieving, heartbroken without hope … hiding in the bushes. Jesus, never waiting for an invitation, takes the initiative as he comes to us where and as we are. However, he does not come to kick us while we are down or shame us, not even raising his voice. He gently asks questions as he slowly draws us out of the bushes, always valuing us for who we are. He shares himself with us as he gently tells us his story and his promises of hope and forgiveness, life and peace. He draws us into his heart one step at a time, ever listening to us and responding with love to all our questions and fears, and even to our ignorance and obstinance.