THE EMMAUS ROAD by Leewin B. Williams (1946) * * * * * * * LUKE 24 And behold two of them went that same day to a village called Emmaus, which was from Jerusalem about threescore furlongs. And they talked together of all these things which had happened. And it came to pass, that, while they communed together and reasoned, Jesus himself drew near, and went with them. But their eyes were holden that they should not know him. And he said unto them, What manner of communications are these that ye have one with another, as ye walk, and are sad? And one of them, whose name was Cleopas, answering said unto him, Art thou only a stranger in Jerusalem, and hast not known the things which are come to pass there in these days? And he said unto them, What things? And they said unto him, Concerning Jesus of Nazareth, which was a prophet mighty in deed and in word before God and all the people: And how the chief priests and our rulers delivered him to be condemned to death, and have crucified him. But we trusted that it had been he which should have redeemed Israel: and besides all this, today is the third day since these things were done. Then he said unto them, O fools, and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken: Ought not Christ to have suffered these things, and to enter into his glory? And beginning at Moses and all the prophets, he expounded unto them in all the scriptures the things concerning himself. * * * * * * * THE EMMAUS ROAD (Pronounced Em-MAY-us) It was late in the afternoon of the first Easter day. Two disciples, restless with sorrow, went out by the western gate to walk to the village of Emmaus, some six miles distant. No doubt life and light throbbed in the soft wind, in the gentle scenery. Perhaps the birds were still singing as the sun was slowly sinking over the western hills. All nature must have been glad. But the hearts of these disciples were as heavy as the clods of the grave. Their Lord was dead! We are not told why this journey was made, we can only surmise. Events of great concern had taken place in Jerusalem. Their Lord, their Messiah, the hoped-for restorer of Israel, had been crucified, put in a tomb, their company scattered. Probably they were returning home, not having elsewhere to go. Why should these disciples be sad on a day which millions now celebrate with great joy? Their storm clouds had not passed sufficiently for them to see the rainbow of hope. A glorious day had broken upon the world, but they did not know it. Their disappointment had become a grief so heavy that faith was eclipsed. The resurrection of our Lord stands out as the greatest mountain peak in the world's history. From this event, truly, there is a "radiance streaming." There had been other great days in the world's history. It was a great day on creation's morning when the "morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy" (Job 38:7). It was a great day when the Law was given on Mount Sinai. God testified by thunder and lightning and a thick cloud, the voice of the trumpet sounding exceedingly loud. The Lord descended upon the mount in fire, the smoke ascended and the mount quaked greatly. (Ex. 19). It was a great day when the angel choir gathered over the Judean hills and announced to simple shepherds and that the world's Redeemer had been born. Thus, it seems, that God has come across the universe a few times, using this earth as one would the stepping-stones across a rippling, brook, and when he does touch the earth there is always a great manifestation. But to what purpose would all these great manifestations of God to the world be to you and me, if the Roman seal had never been broken from Joseph's new tomb; if some mighty angel had not come down on that first Easter morning and rolled the stone away from the door of our Lord's sepulcher; if Christ had not come forth and walked with saddened disciples on the road to Emmaus? For, "if Christ is not risen, then is our preaching vain, and your faith is vain . . . . ye are still in your sins." (1 Cor. 15). These disciples in the bewilderment of fresh bereavement, talked drearily -- of him, his great life, his piteous death, of all that was precious and all that was confusing to them in his history; of the failure of his purpose, of the ruin of their hopes and of his. "We trusted that it had been he which should have redeemed Israel: and besides all this today is the third since these things were done." (Luke 24:21). Time, the balm that often cures the sorest plague, had not come to their relief. They walked the Emmaus Road, they talked; but we are not told they prayed. A Stranger joined them as they were walking and entered into their conversation. They thought him a very ignorant man, though he had not that appearance, for he questioned them minutely about the life and death of their Rabbi. Could there be a foreigner in Jerusalem who had not heard what had happened? They answered him with a sort of surprised condescension, but they readily began to talk about their Lord; indeed, they could not speak of anything else. As they strolled and talked, their feelings about the Stranger underwent one of the swift transformations which simple minds experience in the presence of superiors. This was no ordinary tourist. This was a master of knowledge. He spoke of the Hebrew Messiah; of the meaning of ancient poetry and prophecy; of the possibilities of the race hidden in the Scriptures. He spoke of the recent events that had shaken Palestine. He asked, "Ought not Christ to have suffered these things, and to enter into his glory?" The two disciples felt deeply drawn to the Stranger. It never occurred to them to ask his name or from whence he came. Their thoughts took a higher turn; they seemed to be awakening from an unpleasant dream with the glad thought that it was not true. Courage and faith swept back upon their despairing hearts like fire from heaven upon an abandoned altar. They clung to the Stranger that, when he would have left them and passed on up the country road, they could not, would not, have it so. They begged him, nay, they compelled him, to turn aside and accept their hospitality. So he indulged them, and went to supper with them in their simple house of entertainment. There it seemed the only right thing for him to do was to take his place at the head of the table: his hosts did not seem to wonder why. It seemed to be wholly expected that he should ask the blessing of God upon the bread. He fulfilled the promise: "Behold, I stand at the door and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me." (Rev. 3:20). It may be that he raised those nail-pierced hands as he blessed their simple meal, and the disciples for the first time caught sight of two of the five bleeding wounds received on Calvary. Slowly it began to dawn upon them that they were in the presence of their risen Lord. How did this recognition come about: Was it of the mind or of the heart? Was it of the senses or of the spirit? Had they been blinded or deafened? Had he changed or was it they? Like so much else that had been inexplicable, this, the utmost mystery, now yielded to his control. And they who loved and mourned a dead Christ, lifted their eyes and perceived that he was alive! Oh, the intensity of emotions that surged in their souls! Surprise, Joy, Hope -- all struggling for expression. Food now had no value! They knew, as John the Revelator many years afterward on the Isle of Patmos, heard him say: "I am he that liveth, and was dead: and, behold, I am alive for evermore" (Rev. 1:18). "Their eyes were opened, and they knew him; and he vanished out of their sight." Oh, but was not this a disappointment? No; this further convinced them that this was the same miracle-working Lord they had before known. Briefly. we have followed one of about ten recorded appearances of Jesus after his resurrection. There are incidents and utterances connected with each appearance which would form interesting and profitable themes for meditation. In these we obtain a key to some of the darkest problems of humanity. Thus, the Stranger led the two to see the true meaning of the prophets, whose burning words they had often read and heard without grasping their real deep meaning. In this incident, Christ led them to see that he must be a suffering before he could be a triumphant Messiah; that the crucifixion of Jesus, over which they wailed with such bitter anguish, was in fact an essential part of the councils of God. Then he went on to show that, as his suffering was now fulfilled -- for the crucifixion and death were past -- nothing remained of that which was written in prophecy, but the entering into his glory. The fact that Christ has left the world, ascended up on high, and now sits at the right hand of God, does not render our fellowship with him impossible. Fellowship of souls does not consist in the proximity of persons. There are millions who live in close personal contact, dwell under the same roof, eat at the same table, and work in the same shop, but between whose minds there is scarcely a point of contact, whose souls are as far asunder as the poles; while, contrariwise, there are those separated by oceans and continents, aye, by the mysterious gulf that divides time from eternity, between whom there is a constant intercourse, a delightful fellowship. Through his works, his word, his spirit, we can now hold fellowship with our blessed Lord.