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“Do You Recognize Him?”
Luke 24: 13 – 35
Rev. Rodger Sellers
The Walk to Emmaus
13 Now on that same day two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem, 14 and talking with each other about all these things that had happened. 15 While they were talking and discussing, Jesus himself came near and went with them, 16 but their eyes were kept from recognizing him. 17 And he said to them, “What are you discussing with each other while you walk along?” They stood still, looking sad. 18 Then one of them, whose name was Cleopas, answered him, “Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have taken place there in these days?” 19 He asked them, “What things?” They replied, “The things about Jesus of Nazareth, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, 20 and how our chief priests and leaders handed him over to be condemned to death and crucified him. 21 But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel. Yes, and besides all this, it is now the third day since these things took place. 22 Moreover, some women of our group astounded us. They were at the tomb early this morning, 23 and when they did not find his body there they came back and told us that they had indeed seen a vision of angels who said that he was alive. 24 Some of those who were with us went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said, but they did not see him.” 25 Then he said to them, “Oh, how foolish you are and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have declared! 26 Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into his glory?” 27 Then beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them the things about himself in all the scriptures.
28 As they came near the village to which they were going, he walked ahead as if he were going on. 29 But they urged him strongly, saying, “Stay with us, because it is almost evening and the day is now nearly over.” So he went in to stay with them. 30 When he was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. 31 Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him, and he vanished from their sight. 32 They said to each other, “Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?” 33 That same hour they got up and returned to Jerusalem, and they found the eleven and their companions gathered together. 34 They were saying, “The Lord has risen indeed, and he has appeared to Simon!” 35 Then they told what had happened on the road and how he had been made known to them in the breaking of the bread.
It’s been said that Hind Sight is 20 – 20; that when we look back we see with perfect vision. This is also true when we’re glimpsing God’s work among us and in us.
And this story is maybe the perfect example that proves that point. It’s a story of despair and gloom that carries deep within it a kernel of hope. It’s a story of experiencing God’s presence in the midst of a world gone haywire. It is a story that points out how far too often we don’t see God’s presence and work until later, when we look back with that 20 – 20 hind sight.
On Easter afternoon, two disciples’ meet the resurrected Jesus on the road and don’t realize it until much later. As we look at their seven ½ mile walk to Emmaus we might get a glimpse of our own “Emmaus Roads;” those times when God walks with us and we don’t even recognize him.
Most scholars agree that Emmaus was 7 ½ miles north by northwest of Jerusalem. That might be important, when we figure out that these two were walking northwest into the afternoon and setting sun. I’ll get to that in a minute.
I’ve noted many times through the years that that the Bible is an absolute master of understatement. In verse 14 we read: “They were talking with each other about everything that had happened.” What were they saying that could possibly express the grief, anguish, and confusion they must have felt? Verses 19 – 24 point out that these two, one of which we know to be Cleopas (who was more than likely one of the seventy-two disciples sent out in Luke chapter 10)… These two DID know of the empty tomb but didn’t grasp its significance yet. So what words could they say to express hopes that had been completely dashed upon the rough wood of the cross three days earlier? I think it’s a pretty good assumption that these two were not simply just passing the time “chatting” along the road. Every single assumption they had made about Jesus and how he would redeem Israel would never happen. He wouldn’t sit on the throne of David; he wouldn’t vanquish the Roman occupiers in Palestine. The long awaited reign of God wouldn’t happen in the Jerusalem temple. So what words could possibly express their thoughts in such a situation?
Well, when our own world as we know it ends, how do we put that into mere words? That’s the question this passage begs us to consider. The walk to Emmaus forces us to dredge up some of the wrecked hopes and failed dreams in our own lives.
Yet, as these two walk away from all their hopes and dreams, the unbelievable and unimaginable happens: Jesus himself overtakes them and walks with them. Verses 17 – 27 are the muted undertones of that discussion.
I mentioned earlier that there’s been a fair amount of discussion as to why these two didn’t recognize Jesus. There have been theories ranging from the “Spiritual heaviness laying on their hearts prevented them from recognizing the Lord that they watched feed the 5000…” (That’s a bit over the top, granted)… All the way to the basic fact that they were merely walking west, late in the afternoon on a hot and sunny day, and simply could not see him well enough with the sun in their eyes.
Frankly? I don’t much care what the reason is. I think there’s a bigger question: How often do we, when our lives aren’t working out… How often do we also not recognize God’s presence among us, in us, and with us? (It’s a good question!)
When the risen Jesus walks with us through our own valley of death, when he hears our cry like the first verse of Psalm 116, which we used in the call to worship this morning, states, and he “turns his ear to us”, how often are we not aware of this until much later, after the fact, looking through the 20 – 20 vision of hindsight? Now, I might be an unusual case in this regard, (Which I suspect, and indeed hope, is not true) but I know the answer – at least for me – is not 
enough. It’s not often enough that I ask “Lord, what are you doing?” but instead ask, “Lord, WHERE ARE YOU?” The natural assumption is not that God is present but doing something that we cannot at the moment understand. Our natural assumption is that God is elsewhere and has left us, however temporarily, on our own and things have gotten into a huge mess in his absence. And I think that, in this respect, we all are probably very much like these two disciples trudging through the dust toward Emmaus.
Jesus asks them (vs. 17), “What are you discussing together as you walk along?” Cleopas replies, “Are you only a visitor to Jerusalem that you do not know the things that have happened there in these days”? The Greek word he uses to call Jesus a stranger is a form of the verb παροικέω (paroikeō) and it hints at his dismay that even a visitor to Jerusalem would certainly not have missed the events leading up to Jesus’ death. Literally it means “have you lived here, remaining or being a stranger, and not been aware that Jesus of Nazareth was crucified three days ago?” I’ve often wondered if the Greek here could not be paraphrased as something like: “Buddy, what rock did you crawl out from under that you don’t know of all this?”
And it’s here that we can begin to see the point, when they tell Jesus – still not knowing who he is – in verse 21, “We had hoped that he was the one who would redeem Israel.” The literal translation of the the Greek verb ἐλπίζω (elpizō) reads, “We were hoping that he was the one who would redeem Israel.” It’s in imperfect tense, which in Greek always implies repeated action in the past. They were hoping, but don’t hope any longer. They had hoped for some time, not just once in the past (that would be aorist tense in Greek), but in the present, trudging along this dusty road, all that hope is over. They had hoped on Jesus. They had been hoping in Jesus. But the crucifixion had ended all those hopes and dreams. The hope born of seeing Jesus perform one miracle after another had died with his body on the garbage heap of Golgotha. Their concept of the Messiah just couldn’t encompass what God’s plan for redemption had allowed to happen three days earlier. And as a result, they walked literally in the presence of the Risen Lord Jesus, and had not the foggiest idea of who they were with.
They had assumed that the Messiah would overthrow the Roman Empire; he couldn’t be executed like a common criminal! That’s simply something God would not do (or so they assumed). So it’s over… And two pre-occupied individuals take the hot, dusty trip into the sunset home to Emmaus, knowing of nothing better to do in the misery of shattered dreams, and not having a clue as to the identity of the one walking with them…
It’s important to note that even when God himself rebukes their limited vision, they still don’t recognize him. Doesn’t it seem strange in verse 25 that a total stranger would say, “How foolish you are.” This can be translated, “How obtuse you are… How slow witted you are!” I can’t imagine a total stranger finding a nice, cordial way to tell anyone that they are an idiot!
And that’s because it’s not a stranger. Jesus is pointing out to them, “Don’t rule God’s work in all this out! Can’t you see what really happening here? Didn’t it have to be this way?” Of course this strikes the “resonant chords” in these two that we read in verse 32. And yet… STILL…They do not recognize him…
It is not until their journey is over and Jesus has accepted their invitation… In breaking of the bread… THEN, they recognize him. In the glimmer of an eye, God acts, they recognize him, and he disappears from their sight. And it’s then – not before… with 20 – 20 hindsight, they look back over the day’s walk and say, “Didn’t our hearts burn within us while he talked with us? Didn’t we know it was Jesus with us?
How could not feel His presence with us? How could we NOT have known?”
These two really do show us that looking back, after the fact, our vision is indeed, always 20 – 20. It’s the act of recognizing God in the middle of our struggles that’s the hard part… how often do we look back on this problem or that and think, “God was with me, doing his redemptive work in my life… Why didn’t I see it then?”
How often do we pray, “God BE with us” forgetting that if we truly believe the last verse in the Gospel of Matthew then we’re asking for something he has already promised us?
How often do we find ourselves asking of God, “Where are you?” when he’s right beside us? How often do we find ourselves utterly hopeless and fail to realize that Jesus is every bit as present in the midst of that hopelessness as he was on that road to those two, downcast men trudging home to Emmaus?
This is where it’s hard… Attuning ourselves to God in such a way so that we can see what is so clear in 20 – 20 hindsight while we are still in the midst of trouble. Let’s face it; there are a lot of dusty roads in our lives, with challenges and the wreckage of so many dreams where it’s easy to lose sight of God’s presence.
How do we look into a dark tunnel and still hear God’s voice saying “Peace, Be still”? Certainly by accepting the fact of his promise that he will never leave us. Maybe also by becoming willing to say with every fiber in our being, “Though I have no hope, I will still hope in God.”
See folks; at the end of it all, we are all like those two disciples walking the Emmaus Road. We all look back into the hard times past and see God’s work in us.
But the truth is, we are all still learning – to some degree or another – to look about us while in the midst of the valley of the shadow of death and sense God’s presence right then and there. We are still learning to ask, not, “God, where are you?” but rather, “God, what are you doing?”
Maybe we still learn to trade our conclusion that, at times there is no hope, for God’s fact that our hope is always in his hands…
And people, there aren’t any hands more capable than his!
Something to ponder – and another reason why we don’t leave Easter behind so quickly.
Amen.