Isaiah 43:1-12
Psalm 116:10-17
Acts 2:14a, 36-47
Luke 24:13-35

Now on that same day two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem, and talking with each other about all these things that had happened. While they were talking and discussing, Jesus himself came near and went with them, but their eyes were kept from recognizing him. ⁷And he said to them, ‘What are you discussing with each other while you walk along?’ They stood still, looking sad. 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?’ 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, and how our chief priests and leaders handed him over 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 took place. Moreover, some women of our group astounded us. They were at the tomb early this morning, 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. 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.’ Then he said to them, ‘Oh, how foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have declared! Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into his glory?’ Then beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them the things about himself in all the scriptures. As they came near the village to which they were going, he walked ahead as if he were going on. 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. When he was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him; and he vanished from their sight. 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?’ That same hour they got up and returned to Jerusalem; and they found the eleven and their companions gathered together. They were saying, ‘The Lord has risen indeed, and he has appeared to Simon!’ Then they told what had happened on the road, and how he had been made known to them in the breaking of the bread.

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Good morning. This is a little unusual, but I’ve asked a guest preacher to speak this morning. His name is Cleopas, and I hope you will make him feel welcome. Cleopas, thank you for coming. [Pause]

You’re welcome. I agreed to be here this morning because I want to talk to you about the day that changed my life. It’s not easy for me to talk about because I’m pretty embarrassed by some of it, but I hope that sharing my experience will help some of you.

I guess I should start at the beginning. I had hung around Jesus a good bit. I wasn’t one of the inner circle or anything like that, but I had heard him everywhere I could, even followed him around. And, even though it’s my nature to be skeptical, his message and, more than that, his presence (something about him) had started to get to me, to awaken in me a side I had never known, or at least never trusted.

I had never met anyone like him, not anyone even close, and, despite my cautious, cynical nature, I started thinking that it really could be that he really might be the one God sent to redeem Israel. And even my reserved self got excited about it. I even let it be known that I was one of his followers, which, for me, is kind of a big step. I was fired up.

And then, of course, you know what happened. It’s not like I hadn’t seen it before; I mean the Romans aren’t dainty about crucifying people who cross them. But it was especially horrible, and the disappointment was made even more bitter by the fact that I had loosened my grip and allowed myself to believe, to get excited, to go on record as supporting him.

Now I felt like a fool. "Redeemer of Israel," right! He didn’t even put up a fight. They just took him and killed him. My skeptical, cynical side shamed my tender, fledgling believing side. "You fool!," I kept saying to myself.

But I didn’t just feel like a fool. I was scared, too. Plenty scared, and with good reason. It wasn’t like I was one of the inner circle (they, by the way had high-tailed it and were nowhere to be seen), but, still, I had been known as a follower of a man who had been executed for treason against the Roman State. I was sure the Romans were talking "conspiracy" and planning to round us all up.

So, I was talking about all this to a buddy I’d met following Jesus around, and we decided that if Jesus’ closest friends were in hiding, we’d better be too. My friend said, "Let’s get out of here until the heat’s off," and I agreed in a heartbeat. We couldn’t go anywhere on the Sabbath (and we knew the Romans wouldn’t cause trouble then), but as soon as it was over, on the first day of the week, we got ready to head for a friend’s house in Emmaus.

We heard that some women had gone to the tomb and found it empty, and had seen some angels who said Jesus was alive. First we were amazed, but then we started thinking. We had seen him dead (I mean really dead) with our own eyes. I wasn’t going to risk my life based on rumors of crazy talk by a bunch of grief stricken women. So we headed out.

You’ve probably heard what happened. We were walking the seven miles to Emmaus, and a stranger fell in with us. We didn’t think much of it. Sort of a regular looking guy. But we were on the run, and there wasn’t any way to know whether we could trust this guy, so we just clammed up.

It was pretty noticeable; you know, you can always tell when you join a group and they stop talking because you’re there. (If you were a preacher, you’d really know what that’s like!) So the guy says, "What are you talking about?"

You know, I’ve thought a whole lot about why I answered the way I did. I’ve already told you that I’m not (at least I wasn’t then) the kind of person to reveal much of myself. Kept things pretty close to the vest. Safer that way. But I think I was more upset about what had happened than even I realized. I had let my guard down (for the first time in my life, really) and had gotten hammered for it, and I was really, really hurt.

All I can tell you is that I guess it’s true for most folks that when something is really upsetting you, maybe even more than you realize, sometimes what comes out of your mouth isn’t what you had planned to say. So when this fellow asked what we were talking about, we stopped, and looked at each other, and I opened my mouth to say, "Nothing much," and instead I felt this heat just well up in my belly, and my heart burned, and I heard myself blurting out, "You mean you don’t know? Are you the only person in Jerusalem who doesn’t know?"

"Know what?" he asked. Inside I was screaming at myself: "Stop! Stop! Shutup!" But I couldn’t help it. I heard myself blurting out the whole story, about all our hopes, and how terrible it had been, and even the rumor about the women. And then I was embarrassed, because I know he could see how emotional I was, and I was afraid. I didn’t know this guy from Adam, and now I had blown our cover. I remember thinking, "Oh, good move."

But the way the guy responded really surprised me. For a guy who hadn’t heard about Jesus, he seemed to know all about how what I told him fit in with how things are and how God works. As we walked along, he taught us all sorts of things about the Scriptures, and about what real power is, and about endurance, and about pain, and forgiveness, and how God loves, and how Jesus’ life and even his death fit in perfectly with all of that.

As he was talking, that passion that had welled up in my heart and made me blurt out the story started to change. It went from a passion of hurt and pain and disappointment to a passion for what this guy was saying, an excitement at hearing it, a deep desire to know more, to be with him more, like my heart was being tugged toward him. I started to think, "I haven’t felt this way since . . ." but I wouldn’t let myself finish the sentence. Crazy thoughts. No sense getting burned twice, especially by a stranger on the road.

We came to the cutoff for Emmaus, and without a word this guy just keeps heading straight. We called him and said, "Hey, come on, stay here with us; it’s late, and it’ll be dark soon." I could tell that my buddy was thinking the same thing I was: we were glad it was late, glad it was getting dark, glad to have an excuse to invite him to stay the night.

So he did. And we gathered to eat. He took the bread, blessed it, and broke it, and, — amazing, I still can’t explain it — suddenly it’s like our eyes were opened, and we recognized him. And I laughed at myself and thought, for the first time in my life I think, "I should have paid attention to my heart." And then, he was gone. But it was okay. We knew he had done what he had come for.

We headed back to Jerusalem right then, in the dark. It didn’t feel dark. It felt like we could see better than we had seen in the light.

Well, folks, that’s my story. You can probably tell that there are parts of it I’m not especially proud of, but I think it’s important to tell, so I do it.

Now, I know you folks aren’t ever going to be in the situation I was in on that day. But I do think that lots of folks are running scared, just like we were. Scared because it seems like God has been killed in their lives. Or scared because they are embarrassed to be known as a follower of Jesus. (Maybe it’s okay to be known as a good church-goer, but as someone who dedicates their life to being a disciple of Jesus?). There are lots of ways to be scared, lots of reasons folks have for running from God.

And I also think that even though you weren’t on that road on that day, still, lots of folks encounter Jesus when they least expect to see him, and they don’t know him. They just can’t see it. So maybe sometime you can try to look at another person with eyes that look for Jesus.

So, folks, I know you weren’t on that road, but you’re on your own road, and I think that sometimes our roads are more alike that we realize.

So I want to thank your pastor for inviting me to speak with you this morning. And I especially appreciate that in a few minutes, we will have an opportunity to break bread together.

You know, ever since that day on the road, breaking bread with my sisters and brothers has been — really special to me.

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