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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