Tuesday 18 July 2017

Cleopas' Story (Luke 24:13-35)

We were almost inconsolable. It had all gone horribly wrong. The dream was over. We had thought he was the one. We had thought things were going to change. We were expecting some kind of revolution, the end of Roman rule, God’s Kingdom ushered in. But it was not to be. The unthinkable had happened.

We were going home, weary, angry, frustrated, devastated. There was only one thing we could think about – what might have been and what, now, was not going to be. It felt a very long seven miles, that walk from Jerusalem to Emmaus. There was only one thing we could talk about. We remembered things that he had done and said. We recalled bits of teaching, great sayings he had uttered. We talked about stories he had told. The shepherd who had risked his ninety nine sheep by going off to look for the one that had wandered away. The Samaritan who had helped a man who had been mugged – Samaritans didn’t usually behave like that. The party-giver who sent his servants out inviting all and sundry because his friends all made excuses. We remembered people he had healed, other special moments, things that happened that we will never forget.

We were so busy talking – in amidst the tears – that we didn’t notice that somebody was catching up with us. ‘What are you talking about?’ There was only one thing on our minds. We couldn’t believe that he didn’t know. So, we started to tell some of the stories again. He joined in the conversation, explaining certain things in ways that we hadn’t seen them. We were so busy talking. It was so interesting.

We told him about the rumours that were beginning. Some of the women had seen a vision of angels and were now saying that he is alive. Crazy – but there you have it. We didn’t want any false hopes like that.

Before we knew it, we were home. The journey had suddenly seemed to speed up. It was late. It was dark. In any case, we wanted to continue the extremely interesting conversation. We invited him to stay with us. It was too late to continue a journey until tomorrow.

We all went into the house and we got some supper ready. Just a simple meal, and we sat down at the table together. Somehow it seemed right to ask him to say grace – so we did. He said the prayer as he broke the bread. Then we realised who had walked with us on our journey and, as we did, he disappeared.

What a moment. We wished we had known as we walked – but we realised that, in a sense, we had known – were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?

Suddenly, it wasn’t too late for a journey after all. We rushed back to Jerusalem to find the disciples. We simply had to share the good news.

When has Jesus accompanied me (you) incognito? How has that changed things for me?

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