Two Disciples, One Savior, and a Close Call - Luke 24:13-35

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

Last week, my friend Dr. Allain – some of you met her last fall – she started doing a series of videos for her practice on the unique mental health challenges caused by this virus and lockdown. She talks about depression and anxiety, the effect of closing the schools, and the need to be honest about our feelings and emotions. And then she surprised me by texting me and asking if I would record a video and talk about finding spiritual comfort in times such as these.  

The initial answer is easy, right? It’s easy: Jesus. We know He’s with us, and so we turn to Him in faith, in prayer, and that’s where we find comfort. I recorded the video and sent it to her.

And then the rest of the week happened. And, I have to admit, there are days when I wish I could simply be with Jesus. I don’t mean in an eternal, heavenly sense - at least, that’s not what I mean right now. I have those days, too, when I am particularly looking forward to the day of resurrection when all of the suffering of this world is in the rear view mirror and we simply have eternity with JEsus in the glory of the resurrection. Oh, yes - I look forward to those days. But, for now, I simply mean that I wish Jesus was here, walking along side of me - and e walking along side Him - as we go through this journey of life and faith this side of heaven. “And He walks with me and He talks with me, and He tells me I am His own,” right?

In other words, I am jealous. I am jealous of those two disciples on the road to Emmaus. Could you imagine having Jesus match you, step for step, as you walk and talk together? Could you imagine hearing his voice, seeing his eyes, watching his hands, feeling his touch as his hand touches your skin? 

I’ve lost track of the number of times I have heard Christians - faithful men and women of God - who, in their moments of weakness, struggles, sorrows, and hardship who have said to me, “Pastor, if only Jesus was here right now…” I suspect you have had that thought at least once in your life. And, I admit, I have those days, too. Sometimes those are from things that happen in my vocation as father or husband, sometimes in my vocation as pastor. 

If only He were here, if only He was talking with me, if only He was speaking with me, if only He explained the how, what and why to me as I kept pressing forward...if only He were here, just like he was with those two men on the road to Emmaus. That’s particularly true these grey and latter days of uncertainty, separation, and isolation. 

So, I admit this to you: I came to Luke 24 pre-loaded with that jealousy and envy. How does a preacher preach when all he wants to do is be the third wheel on that journey from Emmaus to Jerusalem? What can I say when all I want to do is shake my Bible at those two slugs and yell, “Don’t you get it? Why can’t you see who this is? You’ve got your head so wrapped up in the events of the weekend that you’re missing The Event of all time! You’re so focused on the Friday death and the Saturday of rest that you are missing the joy of the resurrection! You’re trusting your eyes so much that you’re not trusting the promises Jesus gave you! How can you miss this?

Then, as I read the text again, I discovered this sentence: “their eyes were kept from recognizing [Jesus].” Their eyes were kept from seeing Jesus? Why? Why would they be kept from recognizing Jesus? After all, they were some of His disciples - no among the 12, but part of the larger group of people who followed Jesus. Certainly they should have known, they should have recognized Him. Why could they not know who He was?

It’s been said that when a person loses one sense, the others become more heightened to help compensate. A person who loses the sense of sight, for example, learns to listen more intently to those sounds that are all around. Conversely, a person who loses hearing learns to watch more closely to not miss what their ears can no longer hear. 

The answer is that for three years, their eyes had been deceiving them. They as much as said so: we thought he was going to redeem Israel - not from their sins, but from the Romans. They saw a man who seemed to be in the line of the prophets of old, a powerful teacher who could put the corrupt leaders to shame. They saw a man who was so filled with promise and purpose. Their eyes were deceiving them. So, Jesus took their eyes away - figuratively speaking, that is - so that they couldn’t see Him and recognize Him.

If they did, what might they have seen? If they were impressed before, they would have been flabbergasted. If they thought a crowd-feeding, authority challenging, sick-healing, and death defying was remarkable, one who himself died, only to rise, would be off-the-charts. No, Jesus needed them to see who He was, that His purpose was much more than a divine rebel and a social reconstructionist. 

With their eyes blocked, He opened their ears and He opened their hearts and, more than that, He opened the Scriptures and He taught them. From age to age, from Moses through Psalms, from the judges through the prophets, Jesus expounded the promises of Messiah to come. To have been a fly riding along on their shoulders! What a Bible class that must have been, hearing Jesus explain it all and weave Himself into those those ancient pages of Israel’s history. 

An early church father - I think it may have been St. Jerome, but I can’t recall - once said something like “You can cut the pages of Scripture at any point and the pages will bleed Jesus.” Jesus helped these disciples see He was more than they thought: He was the promised Messiah.  He may have identified Himself as the Good Shepherd of Psalm 23, but also the good shepherd promised in Ezekiel 34. He might have connected the great sacrifices of the Temple with Himself as the sacrifice for the sins of the world. Perhaps he reminded them of the Passover lambs that had been killed only a few days earlier in rememberance of the great Exodus narrative and identified Himself as the Lamb of God. Maybe He helped them see how He was the fulfillment of Isaiah’s suffering servant. Page after page, narrative after narrative, Jesus helped them understand that both in the Scriptures and at the cross He bled for them. 

Jesus hid in plain sight so that they could see Him for who He really is: the Savior, their Savior, the world’s Savior. 

Did you notice that only one of the two disciples had a name? The other traveler is nameless. I want you to do something: I want you to close your eyes for a second. Get the picture of the two traveling alongside Jesus. Look closely at the one on the left; his name is Cleopas, Luke says. Look closely at his face, dark complexion and beard. Watch his face slowly lighten as Jesus speaks. Do you see his brow lifting, his frown becoming a smile, edging into a grin, his eyes brightening, his shoulders straightening? His spirit is lifting as slowly, his heart begins to understand. Now, look at the other traveler. Look closely...what does that disciple look like? Look more closely...who do you see? 

See yourself. You are the other, unnamed disciple. And, do you see who is there with you? Jesus. You journey with Jesus, in your Baptism, from cross and tomb to life. More than that, Jesus journeys with you, from font to resurrection and all steps in between.  You know Jesus, not from what you have seen with your eyes but with spirit-given faith. You see Jesus, not as a failed messianic pariah who didn’t meet expectations but as God who took on flesh to dwell among us to take our place. You see Jesus, not as a social hero for the helpless but as the champion who rescues the world. You see Jesus not as one who came out on the losing end of a political but as one who surrendered to sinful men so He could fulfill His Father’s plan of salvation. 

You see Jesus, your Savior who died, whose, and who restored you to the Father. 

So, if you wish you could see Jesus, if you wish He could walk next to you, if you wish He would reach out to touch you and tell you all is well, look no further than your own BIble. Open the Scriptures and begin to read. And as you read, Jesus Himself - who is the Word, made flesh - will fill the very pages you read. His blood will flow in the words you read and His salvation will be delivered to you: forgiveness, life, salvation overflowing for you.