07/05/2018
Walking at a slower pace than that of the norm, surely a direct result of an unwavering inner turmoil within, Emmaus, once again, awaited our arrival as the afternoon heat began to wane from the sun now seeking its shelter as well for the day. The last three days in Jerusalem weakened our resolve as we reluctantly, and with much disbelief, witnessed the horrifying, demoralizing, and heartbreaking crucifixion of Jesus at the hands of the Romans; more scathing, more contemptuous, was the thought that our leaders demanded such brutality. We had held with great expectation that Jesus, in all of his greatness, in an open defiance toward those in Jewish leadership, would be the One that would redeem the people of Israel.
As if that were not enough to consider, now, there was news of his resurrection from the dead, his body now absent from the tomb which had been so heavily guarded. Could it be?
My conversation with Cleopas found a moment of peace. An eerie quiet, as we walked in a saddened state, permeated the air that would surround us. The silence ever so thick, was, in itself, extremely unsettling as its presence ushered in fertile ground for the rise and fall of emotional chaos and uncertainty. Mine, that of emotions, uncontrollable at this point, ran to and fro without restraint; in a moment thoughts of his resurrection, that which he spoke of so very clearly, would find me ecstatic in sure belief, yet, moments later, with those same thoughts, unwanted grotesque snapshots resurfaced of Jesus nailed and hanging, limply, beaten beyond human recognition upon the cross at Golgotha, and the absurdity of one being risen from the grave in such a state, found me languishing, again without control, in depths of depression that no man should entertain. I could not make it all stop!
Without notice, coupled with that of the agonizing silence that had fallen upon us, I could hear, with clarity, footsteps approaching us rather quickly from behind, drawing ever so near until at once a man, unbeknown to either of us, slowed his pace and began to speak. With a calming tone but without restraint, he proceeded to inquire as to the sadness which obviously hung upon us? Cleopas responded quickly with disbelief and a bit of anger, now questioning the stranger as to his ignorance or indifference to the events that transpired the last three days that surely every man and woman had now heard of.
The man, listened intently, holding his response, as Cleopas poured out his heart, his expectations, his disappointments and his uncertainty, all relevant to Jesus Christ. I, on the other hand, was incapable of speech, still reeling from the pain, exceedingly great, that held me relentlessly in its grip. I was incapable of letting go, letting all that I had seen, all that I had heard, all that I had experienced from Jesus’ outpouring of love, His grace, His mercy, His compassion, His kindness, His peace, His joy, His patience and so much more to simply be for nothing.
Again, there was silence. Then, with the same tone of calm, the stranger began to speak ever so eloquently of Moses, the prophets of old , and greater still of Jesus; he painstakingly chose each word, careful not to miss any illuminating thought and we walked, slowly, without interruption, clinging on to each saturated declaration of truth. My heart burned intensely with all that was being revealed and I simply relished being in the presence of a man so tranquil, so peaceful, and so determined in his steadfastness as the world around was enveloped in manmade turmoil and uncertainty.
Emmaus grew ever so close and we began to hear the sounds of normalcy and that of life; children and their laughter, indistinguishable conversations, donkeys neighing, and the smells of aromatic familiar foods. They all, the smells, the sounds, and the sights, worked in harmony to create the atmosphere of daily life as we knew it.
As we neared our home, this stranger, still speaking beyond our comprehension at times, gave the impression that he would go further beyond the village. I had held my tongue for the entirety of the unexpected chance meeting, unwilling to interject even the most minor of thoughts, but with my heart still afire, could no longer remain silent.
I compelled this man, with all that was within me, to abide with us, to stay in our company a bit longer as night now fell and Cleopas, as well, chimed in with enthusiasm for the same. Surprisingly, there was no reluctance on his part; he seemed to welcome the invitation that had now been given voice and agreed to remain yet still for a while in our humble home.
The fresh baked bread, its fragrance now occupying the same room with us all, fell into the hands of the stranger at his request. He held the loaf, with great reverence, as if it were something greater than that of mere bread and blessed it with words that lingered in the air for limitless moments in time. He began to carefully, and with great precision, break off two pieces of the bread, and with one piece in each hand, presented them to us, with outstretched arms for the taking.
When I reached for the bread, my hand came into contact with his, and the touch of his hand to that of mine, caused my entire being to become physically unstable; especially my eyes which teared up and ran nonstop down the crevices of my beleaguered face. The atmosphere, changed, and what once was simply the confines of a meager room, somehow turned into a place of indescribable holiness. There was a purity, a sense of clean, and an overwhelming peace and love that equally encapsulated its entirety.
With my eyes, now clearly seeing all that was before me, beheld, once again, the stranger, still with outstretched arms, and I noticed a gaping hole in his hand now empty of the bread. I gasped, with my head trailing away and back, as Jesus himself sat before me. He looked, in return, deep into my eyes and within me and simply…smiled; without another word He then instantaneously disappeared…
Father, I once again find myself completely undone with the sweetness of thine word. At the end of this encounter, it notes “and their eyes were opened, and they knew him…” It causes me to question with great humility as to what we might be seeing or greater still what we are not seeing? It says these two men constrained you, to stay a moment longer, in their presence. Do we desire the same? Do we beg of thee to tarry with us for with a certainly you are always drawing near, always wanting more of us and our time? I wonder… what would have happened had they not bid you to stay? Oh Lord, let that question simmer but for a moment in our thoughts…
But they did! Will we as well? Of course, it is at that moment of tarrying, that unimaginable, that unfathomable circumstance might present itself.
Lord there is more in this story, so much more for the taking. Please forgive me for my unending questions Lord? Jesus, over and over, spoke of his body and his blood and the partaking of such in remembrance of Him. Why do we discard, without much consideration, this most precious gift of the body and the blood? Jesus said in John 6:53-56 “Then Jesus said unto them, verily, verily, I say unto you, except ye eat the flesh of the Son of man, and drink his blood, ye have no life in you. Whoso eateth my flesh, and drinketh my blood, hath eternal life; and I will raise him up the last day. For my flesh is meat indeed, and my blood is drink indeed. He that eateth my flesh, and drinketh my blood, dwelleth in me, and I in him.” Paul recounts in 1 Corinthians the same. He notes, “do ye this in remembrance of me” and “do ye this, as oft as ye drink it, in remembrance of me.” Why have we, the Church, the body of Christ kept this indulgence of His body and blood just for special occasions? Why can this not be done, each and every day of our lives, and as we do such shall we not consider Jesus and some of His life changing qualities that he bestowed upon those he would encounter; love, joy, peace, patience, grace, mercy, compassion, kindness, forgiveness, truth, light, humility and the like. Should there not be a placement, in the form of broken bread, of Jesus within, and displacement, of our flesh, that takes place? John says, “he must increase, and I must decrease.” Can we not do this, alone, in a quiet room with you, without fear of being “unworthy” etc? Is it not a truth that if we were all to refrain because of unworthiness, sadly, we would never partake for we all have fallen short so often?
What might happen from that displacement or rather the placement of Jesus into our lives. For the two on the road to Emmaus, again, “their eyes were opened, and they knew him.” Is not that what we should all be pining for? Your last prayer for your disciples before the Passion in John 17 notes “For this is life eternal, that they may know thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent.” Is it wrong or selfish for us to desire to see you Jesus and/or to long, with a burning not of this world, to know you more intimately each day? Open our eyes, let us see clearly, the plans you have for each of us just for the day and may we be bold enough and more than willing to keep nothing for our “self.” May the placement and displacement process produce an overflow, a running over, beyond the vessel, of all that is the totality of your son Jesus. I will close with this thought…Jesus stood and read from Isaiah as noted in Luke:18 “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor, he hath sent me to heal the brokenhearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised.” Is that same anointing not ours as well? I think so…let us partake of Him frequently, be changed, and walk with confidence in His calling for each of our lives, specific in nature, to each of us, but for the same purpose. That all that we encounter, will be left with their eyes blinded, by a light so very brilliant, and with a residue of Jesus Christ so very substantial, that they cannot help but recognize it is not of man but rather from One not of this earth. That they too may long, for it is His longing as well, to have personal intimate relationship.
Father with hearts undone, we apologize that it was at the expense of your Son’s life, yet, thankful beyond measure, that His Passion, that His voluntary sacrifice bridged the chasm of separation, restoring right relationship between you, the Heavenly Father, and your sons and daughters. It is all too wonderful for comprehension! We love you.
Jesus…that’s all!
Daniel