“And, behold, two of them went that same day to a village called Emmaus.” (Luke 24:1313And, behold, two of them went that same day to a village called Emmaus, which was from Jerusalem about threescore furlongs. (Luke 24:13).) “That same day” on which Jesus arose from among the dead, and on which the foes, which stood in our way, were forever silenced, for when He arose death was overcome, the bars of the tomb were broken, and Satan, who had the power of death, was defeated. On that same day at even, two of the Lord’s disciples were walking from Jerusalem towards Emmaus. Their hearts were sad, and with their sadness wonder mingled, for the tidings had come to them, through certain women of their company, that a vision of angels had declared He was alive. And some of the men accordingly had repaired to His sepulcher, and had found the stone rolled away, but “Him they saw not.”
Now as these two disciples wended their mournful way to Emmaus, and as they ascended the familiar road towards the village, Jesus Himself drew near and went with them. He conversed with them, yes, in such a way as to make their hearts burn within them, but still they knew Him not. They spoke to Him about Himself, yet knew not that it was Jesus to whom they spake. “Their eyes were holden that they should not know Him.”
How near the Lord may be to His disciples, and yet how far off may He appear in their perceptions. He may be at our side, almost touching us, and yet there may be in us some unbelief, because of which our eyes are holden that we should not know Him. There may be a genuine heart for Him, and yet so much unbelief, that His gracious ministry becomes a gentle rebuke. These disciples could and did recount the great facts, which evidenced that He was risen, whilst the reality of His resurrection had not reached their souls― “but Him they saw not,” was the substance of their reasoning on the truths they had not only heard, but which they related to the risen Lord.
Now, how did Jesus deal with these His two loved disciples? Even as He had done from the first―He took them to the scriptures. He had been witness to their grief, He had heard them commune together and reason, and “He said unto them, O fools, and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken.” Like a wise physician, He did not merely deal with the effects of their unbelief, but with the malady—their unbelief itself, whose effects were causing them the pain and the sadness they lamented to Him. Such was His gracious ministry, His loving service, on the eve of His resurrection day, and, at length, as the hill upon which Emmaus stands was gained, “He made as though He would have gone further.” But they, with eyes still holden, were shaking from their doubts and their reasonings, and were, they knew not why, leaning upon His strong arm and hoping in Him. “They constrained Him, saying, Abide with us; for it is toward evening, and the day is far spent.”
Jesus was constrained: His love led Him into the chamber where they would rest, and as He sat with them at their meal, “He took bread, and blessed it, and brake and gave to them,” then in a moment, the sacred scene of His last supper arose before them, the vision of Himself before He died filled their hearts, “And their eyes were opened, and they knew Him; and He vanished out of their sight!”
Do not our hearts at times burn within us as an unrecognized voice recalls us to the scriptures? Jesus speaks! He is risen; He loves to bless His people; He walks by our side and comforts, though He appear in a guise unknown. Do we not hear His words, though we may not recognize the voice, “O fools, and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken: ought not Christ to have suffered these things, and to enter into His glory?”