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| Maximino Cerezo Barredo (Spanish, 1932–), “In the Breaking of Bread,” 2001. |
On Easter Sunday, we heard John’s story of Jesus’ resurrection appearance to Mary Magdalene (John 20:1-18). This morning, we heard Luke’s account of Jesus’ appearance to two of his followers, one of whom was named Cleopas. Luke tells us that the two disciples were traveling to a place called Emmaus. As they walked along the road to Emmaus, they discussed the events that took place over the weekend, including reports that some of the women in their group had encountered angels at Jesus’ tomb who told them that Jesus had risen from the dead, as well as the report of others in their group that the tomb was empty (Luke 24:1-12). Despite these reports, these two disciples had chosen to head out of town toward a place called Emmaus. Although Luke tells us they were going to Emmaus, some seven miles from Jerusalem, you won’t find a place by that name on any map. So, perhaps Frederick Buechner is correct when he suggested that:
Emmaus is whatever we do or wherever we go to make ourselves forget that the world holds nothing sacred: that even the noblest ideas that men have had—ideas about love and freedom and justice—have always in time been twisted out of shape by selfish men for selfish ends. Emmaus is where we go, where these two went, to try to forget Jesus and the great failure of his life. [Buechner, The Magnificent Defeat, p. 85.]
So as these two disciples made their way to no place in particular, Jesus joined them on their journey. However, they didn’t recognize him.
So, "Incognito" Jesus asked them what they were discussing. With puzzlement and deep sadness, they asked him: “Are you the only one in Jerusalem who hasn’t heard what’s happened during the last few days?” (Luke 24:18 MSG). When the stranger asked them, “What things?”, they began to tell him the story of Jesus. They told him that the religious and political leaders had crucified this prophet named Jesus, who had done great works in their midst, and who they believed would redeem Israel. While they had heard reports that Jesus was alive, they seemed rather skeptical. After all, they were heading out of town.
After they told the stranger their story, he responded by chastising them because they failed to believe the teachings of Moses and the prophets about how the Messiah would suffer and then enter his glory. He showed them all these things about himself from Scripture. Nevertheless, they still didn’t recognize him. After all, they were still trying to make sense of Jesus’ teachings about the resurrection. People are still struggling to make sense of the resurrection. After all, reports of people being resurrected are very rare!
After "Incognito" Jesus finished teaching them about the Messiah, they arrived at a village where Cleopas and his companion planned to stay the night. When the stranger “walked ahead as if he were going on,” Cleopas and his companion, seeing that it was getting late, urged him to stay with them. He accepted their invitation.
When they sat down for their meal, the Stranger took bread, gave thanks, broke it, and gave it to them. As you ponder these words, do you see a pattern emerging? Is this not what Jesus did on the night of his betrayal as he shared a final meal with his disciples? Is this not what we do when we gather at the Table of the Lord in remembrance of him?
When Jesus broke the bread and gave it to the two disciples, their eyes were opened and they finally recognized him. As soon as they recognized him, Jesus vanished from their sight. You can only imagine how they felt at that moment. Luke tells us that they were amazed at what transpired and said to each other: “Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road?”
Throughout history, others have expressed something similar. For example, Augustine spoke of the heart being restless until it rested in God (Confessions, BK 1). John Wesley wrote in his journal about the time his heart was “strangely warmed.”
In the evening I went very unwillingly to a society in Aldersgate Street, where one was reading Luther’s preface to the Epistle to the Romans. About a quarter before nine, while he was describing the change which God works in the heart through faith in Christ, I felt my heart strangely warmed. I felt I did trust in Christ, Christ alone, for salvation; and an assurance was given me that He had taken away my sins, even mine, and saved me from the law of sin and death. [Journal of John Wesley].
Even if we’ve never had a spiritual experience quite as dramatic as the ones Luke or John Wesley described, I expect we’ve all experienced a special moment of spiritual connection to God that may have warmed our hearts. Perhaps that’s why I am drawn to Augustine’s word about restless hearts finding their rest in the presence of God. Even though we may experience doubt and ask seemingly unanswerable questions of God, there are also moments when we experience that sense of spiritual rest that Augustine describes. We may not have all our questions answered, but we may experience a sense of contentment.
While I am attracted to Augustine’s word about restless hearts, I am also attracted to Luke’s description of what took place when Jesus broke the bread in the presence of Cleopas and his companion. I appreciate the liturgical pattern present in this story that describes what takes place when we gather for worship. Presbyterians like to talk about pastors being ordained to the ministry of Word and Sacrament. Isn’t this what we see taking place in this passage when Jesus teaches them from the scriptures about the Messiah and then reveals himself alive in the breaking of the bread? As we consider this pattern, it’s also worth noting that although the two disciples invited Jesus to share a meal with them, it was Jesus who took on the role of host. That’s something Jesus often did when he sat down for a meal, even if he was the guest.
When Jesus revealed himself alive, I think these two disciples felt a sense of awe and relief. The relief came from the lifting of the sadness that may have been connected to a sense of divine abandonment. Perhaps we’ve experienced that sense of divine absence. Even Jesus expressed a sense of divine abandonment when he cried out to God, using words from the Psalms:
My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
Why are you so far from helping me,
from the words of my groanings? (Ps. 22:1)
In drawing upon this Psalm, I believe Jesus gives permission to ask the same question of God when we feel abandoned.
Now, one of the reasons I like this reading from Luke’s gospel is that it suggests that the Lord’s Table can serve as a place of divine encounter. As you know, I wrote a book about Eating with Jesus. This is one of the stories I draw upon in that book.
What is interesting about this story is that it was the moment Jesus broke bread that they recognized him. He was with them the entire time, but they didn’t recognize him until he broke bread in their midst. Perhaps when we come to the Table, no matter who is presiding, using our spiritual imagination, we can picture Jesus as the host. After all, the words we use to bless the elements are the words Jesus gave us. At the same time, it’s worth noting that before Jesus broke bread with them, he was still a stranger.
If we reverse things a bit and think about the blessings that come when we show hospitality to strangers, we might gain a better appreciation of this story about a divine encounter that took place at a dinner table. With that in mind, consider the story of the time Abraham entertained strangers at the Oaks of Mamre, who turned out to be angels bearing good news that Sarah would bear a child (Gen. 18:1-18). Consider also the famous icon created by the medieval Russian artist Andrei Rublev, who used Abraham’s encounter with the three strangers to depict the Trinity. Then there is this word from Hebrews 13: "Keep on loving each other as brothers and sisters. Don’t forget to show hospitality to strangers, for some who have done this have entertained angels without realizing it!" (Heb. 13:1-2 NLT).
Luke reminds us that not only might we encounter God in the stranger, but the “stranger” might become the host of our shared meals. The moral of the story seems to be that you never know who you will meet when you dine with strangers.
There is a theological term that describes what takes place at the Table. It’s called “real presence.” The way I understand “real presence” does not involve a change of the elements of the bread and wine, but rather the recognition that Jesus is present when we break bread together. While I believe that our celebrations of Holy Communion liturgically focus our attention on that reality, perhaps we can extend the divine encounter to other meals that we share with each other as the body of Christ. Indeed, even if we feel like God is absent in our lives, when we gather as the body of Christ, we encounter him in each other.
Luke concludes by letting us know that after they encountered the risen Jesus, Cleopas and his companion turned around and headed back to Jerusalem. When they rejoined the community, they got to share the good news that Jesus revealed himself alive in the breaking of bread (Luke 24:33-35). Now, we get to share that same good news with the world. Yes, the Lord is risen from the dead!
Preached by:
Dr. Robert D. Cornwall
Pulpit Supply
Tyrone Community Presbyterian Church (PCUSA)
Easter 3A
April 19, 2026
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