Now do keep your Bibles in hand and turn now to the New Testament scriptures to the gospel according to Luke, chapter 24. Luke 24, beginning at verses 13 through 35. If you are using a church Bible, you can find that on page 885.
It is, I think, a remarkable fact that Luke’s account of the first Easter Sunday withholds the details of Christ’s appearance in the garden tomb and instead takes us some distance outside Jerusalem as two ordinary disciples make the seven-mile journey from the city to the village of Emmaus. We don’t know why they are walking to Emmaus; maybe they are returning home after the dramatic events of the Passover are now concluded. We don’t know much about them; only Cleopas is named in verse 18. What we do know is that Luke focuses his Easter story, his first account of the resurrection appearance of Christ, on the encounter that these two ordinary disciples have with him. That Cloepas and his friend are ordinary followers of Jesus, I think, ought not to be overlooked. This is the most astonishing event in human history – the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead. And Luke trains our attention not on the apostles but on these two previously unknown characters who belong to the wider circle of Jesus’ followers and friends. They are not insiders. They did not have particularly privileged access to Jesus like the Twelve during Christ’s public ministry. They are ordinary people, and it is on them that Luke focuses our attention and to them that Jesus here draws near.
And we have to say, that’s typical of Jesus, isn’t it? This is how He loves to act. He comes to ordinary Joes. In our society it’s the rockstars that get all the airplay; the great and the good are the constant focus of our attention. Important people don’t have time for the likes of us. But the risen Lord who triumphs over the grave, He loves to meet with and shower His grace on regular people. The Jesus that meets Cleopas and his friend is never above meeting with us, with you. And because of that, we need to let this passage encourage us to read it expecting to meet the same Jesus that met Cleopas and his unnamed companion on the road to Emmaus.
The arc of the story – if you’ll cast your eye over it with me briefly for a moment – the arc of the story has three component parts. First, as we eavesdrop on Cleopas and his pal, we see Jesus underestimated, Jesus underestimated. Then next, as the incognito Christ begins to converse with them, we see Jesus explained. So Jesus underestimated; Jesus explained. Then finally as the two disciples press Jesus to stay with them for dinner, we see Jesus at last recognized.
Now did you see the deepening, the pattern of deepening clarity as the story unfolds? The pattern of escalating engagement with the reality of Christ in these verses? They go from underestimating Him and misunderstanding Jesus – who He is, why He came, what has happened – to receiving careful instruction and Scriptural explanation of the true facts concerning Christ and His mission, to final personal recognition that Jesus was with them in person. That’s actually the way that it works for us all. As we move from underestimating Him, misunderstanding Him perhaps, to learning the truth about Him in holy Scripture, finally to meet Him for ourselves as He comes to us in the gospel and in the power of the Holy Spirit. It is our great desire and prayer for you today that the Word that we hear would bring you personally and truly into intimate acquaintance and fellowship with the risen Christ. We want you, like the disciples on the road to Emmaus, to meet the living resurrected Jesus.
So Jesus underestimated, Jesus explained, and Jesus recognized. Before we look at each of those themes in turn, let’s bow our heads once more and ask for the assistance of God as we read and study His Word together. Let us all pray.
Lord our God, hear our cries. Give light, O Lord. Open our eyes. Unstopper our ears. Make receptive our hearts and grant grace that we may all receive and rest upon the risen Christ as He is offered to us in the Gospel. For Jesus’ sake, amen.
Luke’s gospel chapter 24 at verse 13. This is the Word of God:
“That very day two of them were going to a village named Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem, and they were talking with each other about all these things that had happened. While they were talking and discussing together, Jesus himself drew near and went with them. But their eyes were kept from recognizing him. And he said to them, ‘What is this conversation that you are holding with each other as you walk?’ And they stood still, looking sad. Then one of them, named Cleopas, answered him, ‘Are you the only visitor to Jerusalem who does not know the things that have happened there in these days?’ And he said to them, ‘What things?’ And they said to him, ‘Concerning Jesus of Nazareth, a man who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, and how our chief priests and rulers delivered him up to be condemned to death, and crucified him. 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 happened. Moreover, some women of our company amazed us. They were at the tomb early in the morning, and when they did not find his body, they came back saying that they had even seen a vision of angels, who said that he was alive. Some of those who were with us went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said, but him they did not see.’ And he said to them, ‘O foolish ones, and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken! Was it not necessary that the Christ should suffer these things and enter into his glory?’ And beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, he interpreted to them in all the Scriptures the things concerning himself.
So they drew near to the village to which they were going. He acted as if he were going farther, but they urged him strongly, saying, ‘Stay with us, for it is toward evening and the day is now far spent.’ So he went in to stay with them. When he was at table with them, he took the bread and blessed and broke it and gave it to them. And their eyes were opened, and they recognized him. And he vanished from their sight. They said to each other, ‘Did not our hearts burn within us while he talked to us on the road, while he opened to us the Scriptures?’ And they rose that same hour and returned to Jerusalem. And they found the eleven and those who were with them gathered together, saying, ‘The Lord has risen indeed, and has appeared to Simon!’ Then they told what had happened on the road, and how he was known to them in the breaking of the bread.”
Amen, and we praise God for His holy Word.
As Cleopas and his companion make their way to Emmaus, Luke uses three different words to describe what they are doing as they go. Verse 14, they are talking with each other, verse 15, they are talking and discussing; verse 17, Jesus asks about their conversation. The words that Luke is using imply more than small talk. They’re not just idling away the time on the seven-mile hike home talking about the ballgame or the Easter egg hunt or the family dinner plans. That’s not what’s going on. There is a back and forth. They are debating, questioning; they are wrestling with what has happened. The impression that we get is that they have more questions than they have answers. Now of course when Jesus catches us with them on the road, we are in the position of what is sometimes called “the omniscient reader.” That is to say, we already have all the facts and we know who’s really talking to them. But these two disciples, we are told, were kept from recognizing Him. They can’t see that this new third member of their party is really Jesus. And that fact itself is the first major theme of the passage. Their perplexity continues. The questions flow in a steady stream but no answers come.
And here in the midst of all of that is Jesus underestimated. You will notice that when Jesus asks them what they are talking about it stops the two of them dead in their tracks. They are amazed, and Cleopas wonders in verse 18 whether Jesus might be the only person leaving the city that day who doesn’t know what has happened. The irony is delicious of course because nobody knows better what has happened than Jesus Himself. But He asks them for an account and they quickly sketch the events from their own point of view. Jesus, they tell them, was a prophet, verse 19. The chief priests and the elders condemned Him, had Him crucified, verse 20. And this, they tell Jesus, lead to the final crushing of their hopes. “We had hoped that He was the one to redeem Israel.”
Now notice carefully how they categorize Jesus. He is a mighty prophet, but that’s all He is. Consequently, their expectation for redemption for Israel seems to have depended entirely on Jesus evading the malice of His enemies. This was a worldly – this worldly hope that they had probably, while they were ready to acknowledge that Jesus was their Messiah, the redemption they expected Messiah to bring was entirely political and social in its character. He was going to redeem them from their oppressors. He was going to make this broken world right again at last. And how He is dead and so our hopes are dashed and our faith is shattered. And so when they relay reports about angels at the tomb announcing Jesus’ resurrection, they are not at all impressed. Some of the women in our company amazed us, they say. They are perplexed by the women’s report but they are not persuaded. And when some of our company, meaning Peter and John, went to the tomb, they found it empty but they did not see Jesus. The implication seems to be that in their judgment these women are delusional, and did they think that perhaps the body had been stolen?
Now just step back from all of that for a moment. Why doesn’t the second half of their report of what happened with the women and the angels and the empty tomb, why doesn’t that change their minds and restore their hopes and renew their faith? Well it doesn’t change their minds because the first half of their report indicates how little they really expected of Jesus in the first place. He was a mere prophet to them; one who would bring about a mainly political redemption. And how He is dead. Their starting presuppositions precluded any other outcome except disappointment and despair.
And before we move on, that might actually be a decent description of where you are at as you gather with us here this morning. Perhaps you are a skeptic. Your naturalistic presuppositions about the nature of the world preclude the possibility of a risen Christ. But this passage is meant to expose the flawed circularity of that way of thinking. Your starting assumption about who Jesus is excludes the possibility that He is today, right now, alive. But if you are wrong in your starting assumptions and Jesus is in fact who He said He is, more even than a prophet but the Son of God made flesh, well then, then your skepticism must crumble entirely. Maybe it’s time you took a long, hard look at your presuppositions. Like Cleopas and his friend on the road to Emmaus, they might actually just be blinding your eyes to the truth, keeping you from seeing the fact that Jesus lives.
Now clearly as omniscient readers we know what’s really going on and I think we are actually meant to feel sorry for these two disciples in this story at this point. They had hope in Christ, but it was a short lived hope focused entirely on this life. And as Paul puts it, 1 Corinthians 15:12, “If in Christ we have hope only in this life we are of all people most to be pitied” They are pitiable here. What they don’t see, because they can’t yet bring themselves to believe that it is possible, is that through it all, even in their confusion, Jesus is right there at hand. He’s right there walking beside them on the road. Verse 16, Jesus Himself drew near.
Perhaps some of you are here this Easter Sunday and not unlike these two disciples you are battling grief and despair and unbelief and loss. And you do not realize what this passage assures you is true – how close the comforting presence of Christ really is. “There may be times,” writes Ralph Davis, “when faith is beaten down and almost smashed, when faith walks in darkness without any light, and Christ has drawn near but you do not see Him. Your darkness may only be an inch from the light.” In this passage, it’s not to disciples who believe as they should, who understand the whole story, whose faith is unshaken by their sorrows and trials and losses. It’s not to them that Jesus draws near, is it? No, He comes to these two – confused, unclear, doubtful, questioning, heartbroken, disappointed sinners. He draws near to them. Your imperfect faith, your hurting heart, your fear, listen, none of it repels Him. He is close at hand. He is near to you, available to you, in pursuit of you if only you had eyes to see. Jesus draws near. And so first here Luke shows us Jesus underestimated. They can’t see Him because of their presuppositions blinding their eyes but He is close at hand, available to them.
Then secondly, notice Jesus explained. I love the irony of verse 24, don’t you? Look at verse 24. It is positively comedic. As they conclude their account of Peter and John running to the tomb that they say, of Jesus, “Him they did not see.” At least in Peter and John’s case, when they got to the tomb, Jesus was in fact absent. But for poor Cleopas and Co., Jesus was standing right there in front of them, talking to them, interacting with them. We are meant, I think, to chuckle just a little bit when they declare matter of factly, “Him they did not see.” Luke is helping us in the way he is telling the story to feel something of the simmering, bubbling up, laugh out loud wonder and joy of what has really happened here. Jesus lives, so rejoice and be glad! He lives! Death is defeated, undone, praise the Lord! You should not read this story without smiling that the Christ who met them comes to you in His wonderful grace because He lives and meets you too.
But if there is a moment of gentle humor, what happens next has some gravity, full of instruction and gravity. Look at verse 25. Jesus rebukes them, doesn’t He? “‘O foolish ones and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken! Was it not necessary that the Christ should suffer these things and enter into His glory?’ And beginning with Moses and all the prophets He interpreted to them in all the Scriptures the things concerning Himself.” Now don’t miss the fact that through all this Jesus is still incognito. There is no big reveal like a character in a second rate spy movie, you know, pulling the latex mask from his face to show the world that it has been him all along. That just doesn’t happen. And it doesn’t happen because what they need more than a sight of Jesus’ face, what they need more is a proper understanding of the Word of God.
And that’s actually what we really need too. We are also tempted, aren’t we, to walk by sight and not by faith. We want sensory experience more than we want Bible truth. We want to see and touch and hear, but Jesus knows our needs better than we do and so He walks with them through the Old Testament scriptures, beginning with Moses and all the prophets. He shows them in all the Scriptures the things concerning Himself. And He shows us – this is an important word – He shows them that it was necessary that Christ should suffer these things and enter into His glory. They had thought the Messiah would ride a way of political victory. They did not expect Him to die in ignominy and shame on a Roman cross. But Jesus wants them to see that the whole Bible spoke actually about the death of the Savior. The seed of the woman whose heel is bruised by crushing the serpent’s head, the serpent’s sting. The sacrifices that run like a bloody strand throughout the whole narrative of the Old Testament scriptures, the sacrifices of worship in the temple, all of them pointing to a Lamb yet to come who would take away the sin of the world. The suffering servant in Isaiah 52 and 53, upon whom the Lord has laid the iniquity of us all, it was the will of the Lord to crush Him; by His stripes we are healed. In every part of the Scriptures, Jesus explained His death and His resurrection. They were necessary. The means by which alone true redemption, not from political oppression but from the wrath and curse of God and the dominion and bondage of sin, this is the way true redemption could be secure.
There is a sense in which the hopes of Cleopas and his friend were not entirely wrong. They had hopes that Jesus would redeem Israel. What they missed is that His death and through His resurrection that first Easter Sunday, Jesus did actually accomplish the redemption of His people – redemption from sin and death and hell by the blood of the Lamb. And now He lives again from the dead to give that redemption, one at such a great price, to all who believe. That’s what Jesus taught the disciples on the road to Emmaus. It’s the message He teaches us still. The cross was not the end of hope; it was the fulfillment of it and the foundation of it. Not the failure of redemption but the securing of it. That’s the message, actually, Jesus says of the whole Bible and Jesus fulfills it all. It was necessary that the Christ should suffer these things and enter into His glory. Necessary because that’s what the Scriptures said He would do.
Necessary of course in another sense – necessary for them, for these two disciples, necessary for us – because all sin must be paid for. Do you understand that? All sin, your sin, every sin of yours must be paid for. Either you will pay for it personally in hell forever or Jesus will have paid for it in your place on the cross. It is necessary that He die and rise in victory over the grave, having made atonement in full for the sin of His people. There would be no hope for you or me without it. Jesus underestimated. Now, Jesus explained.
And finally in verses 28 through 32, Jesus at last recognized. As they arrive at Emmaus, the two disciples persuade Jesus to stay with them. And look at verse 30, “When he was at table with them, he took the bread and blessed and broke it and gave it to them. And their eyes were opened, and they recognized him. And he vanished from their sight. They said to each other, ‘Did not our hearts burn within us while he talked to us on the road, while he opened to us the Scriptures?’ And they rose that same hour and returned to Jerusalem.” Their eyes were opened. Notice the passive voice, sometimes called a divine passive. Their eyes “were” opened. God opened their eyes. Their own foolish unbelief blinded their eyes but it was sovereign grace that opened them.
That’s how it happens, you know. God opens blind eyes. Do you have a loved one, a family member, someone you care for here this Easter Sunday with you and they do not know the Lord Jesus for themselves. Here’s what you should pray for them. This is what they need. “O God, open his eyes like You opened the eyes of the disciples at supper that night in Emmaus. Lord Jesus, open her eyes that she might see at last her risen Savior and come to trust in Him.” And don’t overlook the little detail – that their eyes were opened, where? “In the breaking of bread.” Now that is not an allusion to the Lord’s Supper. Jesus didn’t have a little private communion service with them. It’s dinnertime. And what’s fascinating is that Jesus was their guest; they urged Him to stay and have supper with them because it’s getting late. And yet, as the dinner gets underway, Jesus is the host and they are the guests. He is the one who rises and gives thanks for the bread and breaks it and gives it to them. He is acting as the host at the head of the table.
Now at the risk of spiritualizing the passage here, let me offer a word of warning in light of that fact. They thought He was the guest and Jesus assumes the role of host. And let me say, friends, you can’t have Jesus on any other terms. If you are to have Jesus at all, you must always have Him as host, never as a mere guest. It’s tempting, isn’t it, to try and keep Jesus in that role – a polite, unobtrusive, convivial guest, adorning our lives with His pleasant company. But never really inserting Himself where He has not been invited. That’s the kind of Jesus we often prefer. But when you invite Christ into your life, He can only come one way. He comes not as a guest but as the host. Not as a mere invitee. He comes as Lord to reign. And so Jesus blesses and breaks the bread. It was, of course, a terribly familiar action. He had done it hundreds and hundreds of times with His disciples throughout His ministry. And in that familiar, every day act, He was revealed to them; God opened their eyes.
And part of what makes this story so important and so very precious is how wonderfully ordinary it all is. Right? These are not prominent apostles as we said at the beginning. It’s Cleopas and whoever he was. What’s his name, his companion who doesn’t even make it into the dramatis personae in this story. Really ordinary people. And their misunderstandings and their spiritual blindness, they’re awfully familiar to us, aren’t they? They’re just like us. These are average disciples. And in keeping with all that ordinariness, the climactic moment of the whole narrative arrives not on a mountaintop but at the dinner table. Not in a king’s palace but in Cleopas’ kitchen, in the work-a-day fellowship of Christian believers reflecting together on the way the Bible makes Jesus known. There, there the disciples’ eyes were opened.
Too often we are looking for Jesus in all the wrong places, expecting the dramatic and the ecstatic and the other-worldly. We’re looking for fanfare and crescendo and we miss Him in the simple moments of fellowship at the kitchen table with brothers and sisters. We didn’t see Him draw near in the ordinary, daily opening of the Bible, in the weekly routines of worship and rest on the Sabbath Day. Sometimes we’re too busy looking into the skies for something grand to notice the real Jesus walking beside us on the road the whole time.
Easter Sunday, it’s special for many of us. That’s a good thing. But the message of Luke 24 is that Christ met ordinary disciples with very common misunderstandings that first Easter Sunday and He taught them the Bible and He opened their eyes while dinner was being served. The Christ who rose in victory over the grave and now lives and reigns at God’s right hand, exhorted Lord and King of kings. He’s not just for special occasions. He is a Christ for every day and a Christ for everyone. He is risen indeed, but He is risen for you. For you. So may the Lord Jesus Himself draw near to you, open the Scriptures to you, show Himself to you. May He open your eyes that you might receive the grace to welcome Him as host, as Lord at the table of your life and there begin to enjoy fellowship with Him forever.
Let’s pray together.
God our Father, we praise You for Your holy Word, for the way that it shows us Christ and shows us ourselves, our blindspots, our unbelief, our temptation to look in all the wrong places for the Christ who comes to us by His holy Word. Would You give to us new eyes to see Him and grace to receive and rest upon Him. Show us what is true that in the same body in which He was crucified, our Redeemer triumphed over the grave on the third day and now lives and reigns with You and the Holy Spirit, one God, blessed forever, there ever living to make intercession for us – our precious, perfect Savior. Bring us, all of us, to Him, to welcome Him not as a guest on our terms but as the host at the head of the table of our lives. For Jesus’ sake, amen.