And behold, two of them were going on the same day to a village distant sixty stadia from Jerusalem, called Emmaus;
Jesus had risen that morning. Yet two of His followers spent that day walking away from Jerusalem, and Luke names only one of them.
Luke measures the trip rather than describing the place.
A village about sixty furlongs from Jerusalem — that is, about 7 miles. The two disciples were travelling there on the day of the resurrection, and the Lord made Himself known to them. Some identify it with ruins at Khamaseh, about 8 miles south-west of Jerusalem; others with el Kubeibeh, about 7½ miles north-west. But there is nothing to settle which.
Luke names Cleopas and leaves his companion unnamed. Guesses about the second traveller run into a detail later in the chapter. When the two get back to Jerusalem, the eleven are already there without them.
It is of no consequence who the unnamed one may have been. They were disciples shaken by the crucifixion of the Messiah. Grace would comfort them, founding their faith on the Word, and giving the saints to see the unseen Jesus — the One they did not know while they looked with natural eyes. Some have supposed that the companion of Cleopas was Nathanael; others have been sure he was Peter. We may rest assured that they were mistaken, and that he could not have been an apostle. When the two returned to Jerusalem, they found "the eleven" among those gathered together (verse 33). The great point is the Lord's grace. He led them out of human thoughts to Himself as the Object of all the Scriptures — the One who first suffers and then enters His glory.
They are not walking toward something; they are walking away. One writer reads that departure as a break with more than a city.
Two disciples were travelling to Emmaus (possibly meaning "in earnest longing"), away from Jerusalem and the temple. Luke 24:13 suggests that when they left Jerusalem, they also left the whole man-made Judaic system. God gave that system at first, but it had become a human religion. By rejecting their own Messiah it shut out the very God who had given it. On paper the two disciples were still in Judaism. But when they came back (v. 33), they stood on different ground with the other disciples. The risen Lord taught them, so they might be a testimony to Jews and Gentiles (v. 47).
Commentators differ here. Others read the walk as plain discouragement — "not lack of interest, but rather lack of faith," as Samuel Ridout puts it.
Their sadness was real, but it grew out of an expectation the Scriptures had never promised them.
They had very strong expectations centred on the Messiah, and they believed they had found Him in Jesus... They did think that "he was the one to redeem Israel," but to them that meant redeeming them by power from all their national foes, rather than redeeming them to God by His blood. His death had shattered their hopes of this redemption by power and by glory. Their disappointment grew out of hopes they had cherished which the Word of God never supported. They expected the glory without the sufferings.
Their disappointment had a root, and it went deeper than grief.
They were occupied with their own thoughts about Christ rather than God's thoughts. Their minds were full of human thoughts, so they could not grasp divine thoughts — they were "slow of heart to believe" all that the prophets have spoken. Unbelief was at the back of their disappointment. Unbelief turned their feet away from the Lord's people; unbelief set their tongues reasoning, filled their hearts with sadness, and held their eyes fast closed so that they could not discern the Lord.
The next verses show how the Lord deals with disciples who walk away.
He sends no messenger to call these straying saints back to His presence. When all goes well with His people, angels, apostles, prophets and others may carry out His commands, as we know from many fine scenes recorded in the Word. But is there a wandering sheep — dejected and disappointed? Then look: "JESUS HIMSELF" will draw near to restore... How different, sadly, is the way we often take with one another. Does a brother wander away from us? How quick we are to draw away from him. But on the day the Emmaus disciples drew away, Jesus Himself drew near. What a Saviour! When we were far away He came near, and when we draw away He draws near.
- Seven miles. Two disciples walked the seven miles to Emmaus on resurrection day itself, to a village no one can now locate.
- Away. Their backs were to the city. One reading takes that departure as a break with the whole religious system they had grown up in.
- Why. They expected the glory without the sufferings. The Word of God had never promised the hopes they built.
- Beneath it. Unbelief was the root. Their own thoughts about Christ crowded out God's and closed their eyes to Him.
- Who follows. He sends no messenger. When they draw away, Jesus Himself draws near, leading them out of their own thoughts to Himself as the subject of all the Scriptures.
and they conversed with one another about all these things which had taken place.
Two followers of Jesus leave Jerusalem on the day He rose. All they have just seen — the trial, the cross, the empty tomb — fills their talk. Luke tells us what they were discussing before he tells us who joined them on the road.
Luke does not just say they were talking. He tells us what filled their words.
Their hearts were deeply interested in Christ. God has been careful to tell us what they were speaking about. They could think of nothing else, though I do not doubt they were bewildered by what had happened to the One they loved.
When the Lord later asked what they were talking about, their answer named Him.
When He asked them what they were talking about, they said, "Concerning Jesus of Nazareth." They were disappointed, yet the topic of their conversation was Jesus.
Their talk was also reasoning, and it left them sad. Commentators trace both to one root.
They dwelt on their own thoughts about Christ instead of God's thoughts. Their minds were full of human thoughts, so they could not take in God's thoughts. They were "slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken." Unbelief lay behind their disappointment. Unbelief turned their feet away from the Lord's people. Unbelief set their tongues reasoning, filled their hearts with sadness, and held their eyes shut so that they could not recognise the Lord. And what was the unbelieving thought that filled their minds? Simply this: they wanted to bring Christ back into their own circumstances, for glory now, and for ease and blessing on earth.
How much of this was their own fault? One writer answers carefully.
Their minds were full of the things that had happened. Their intellect was at work, and they reasoned. There seems to be no self-will or stubbornness in the way they acted. But they were very sad at heart, and deeply puzzled.
While the two talked, someone was hearing every word. One writer links this road to a scene in Malachi.
Malachi 3:16 speaks of those who fear the Lord talking often with one another, while the Lord listens and hears. Later these two could have said how blessed that was, but their blessing was greater. For the Lord came near, talked with them, and walked with them. What joy it must have been to Him to watch these two taken up with Him!
Their feet were carrying them away from the city and the other believers. Their talk was still full of Christ.
Remember, they belonged to the company at Jerusalem, but they were not in their place. They were walking away, as if it was all over and lost. Things had turned out very differently from what they expected, and they were disappointed. Is this not a picture of many today?… Did the Lord forget these two wanderers, as they talked together of all these things that had happened? No. It was while they talked and reasoned like this that Jesus Himself drew near and went with them.
The answer to their talk was not a message about the Lord. It was the Lord Himself.
He sends no messenger to call these straying believers back to His presence… But if there is a wandering sheep — downcast and disappointed — look, "JESUS HIMSELF" will draw near to restore… Sadly, the way we often take with one another is very different. Does a fellow believer wander away from us? How quick we are to draw away from him. But on the day these two drew away, Jesus Himself drew near. What a Saviour! When we were far away He came near, and when we draw away He draws near.
The Lord's first words to them asked what they were discussing. That makes this verse a test of our own talk.
"Slow of heart" and unbelieving — yes, indeed. The glory of that lowly Man as the Christ of God, the subject of all the Scriptures, had not lit up their beings. But they were speaking together of Him… How should we answer the question, "What is this conversation that you are holding with each other?" If our minds and hearts were firmly fixed on our Lord, and on the glories of His person which He has shown us, we would speak less of the failures and divisions among His people, except in secret prayer and confession. We would speak more of Himself and His interests.
- Subject — Luke records what the two were discussing. It was Christ. Their hearts held on to Him even while they walked away.
- Flaw — the same talk was reasoning. Their own thoughts about Christ crowded out God's thoughts, and left them slow to believe and sad.
- Listener — as in Malachi 3:16, the Lord hears those who speak of Him together. Here He does more. He draws near and walks with them.
- Person — He sends no messenger to fetch the wanderers back. Jesus Himself comes near at the very moment they draw away.
- Test — His question to them is the question to ask of our own talk. Is Christ our subject, or the failures of His people?
And it came to pass as they conversed and reasoned, that Jesus himself drawing nigh, went with them;
Two disciples are walking away from Jerusalem. They are going over the collapse of everything they had hoped for. Then a stranger falls into step beside them. Who is He, and why does He come this way instead of announcing Himself?
One writer points to the small word Himself. It keeps coming back through the rest of the chapter.
Now I ask you to notice that little word "himself." I think the great point of Luke 24 is "himself." Soon you will find, "He explained to them in all the scriptures the things concerning himself" (Luke 24:27). A little later we find, "Jesus himself stood among them" (Luke 24:36). And then again, "See my hands and my feet, that it is I myself" (Luke 24:39). The great point is a risen Man, the same Jesus, but risen. That is undoubtedly the point of the evangelist in this chapter.
He sends no one in His place. He comes Himself, and He comes to people who are walking the wrong way.
No messenger is sent to call these straying saints back to His presence. When all goes well with His people, angels, apostles, prophets and others may carry out His orders. We know this well from many a fine scene recorded in the Word. But is there a wandering sheep — dejected and disappointed? Then look, "JESUS HIMSELF" will draw near to restore. No stranger can share in the work that goes on between a wandering saint and "Jesus Himself." … But on the day the Emmaus saints drew away, Jesus Himself drew near. What a Saviour! When we were far away He came near, and when we draw away He draws near.
They were talking and reasoning as they walked. One writer notes that we are told what filled their minds.
Their hearts were deeply interested in Christ. God has been careful to tell us what they were speaking about. They could think of nothing else, though I have no doubt they were bewildered by what had happened to the One they loved.
Another writer sees their walk as a picture repeated today.
Let us remember that they belonged to the company at Jerusalem, but they were not in their place. They were walking away, as if everything were over and lost. Things turned out very differently from what they expected, and they were deeply disappointed. Is this not a picture of many today? They belong to the church of God, the assembly. They are members of the body of Christ. But as to their position they are so sad, from reasoning about the things that have happened, that although they belong to it — "two of them" — they are walking with their backs to the assembly and their faces towards Emmaus.
He drew near close enough to hear every word.
We have examples in the New Testament of His close acquaintance with the thoughts and conversation of His people. He gave Ananias a commission about Saul of Tarsus. He repeated to doubting Thomas the words Thomas had spoken to his fellow disciples. Both show that our words never escape His ears. And the journey of the two disciples to Emmaus, when He Himself drew near and walked with them, tells us how interested He is in everything that concerns His own — yes, even in their doubts and fears.
He could have gone anywhere that day. He went to two people who had lost heart.
He might have gone to Jerusalem and convinced the leaders of the people that He was indeed the Christ. He might have gone to Pilate and convinced him that he had crucified an innocent Person. But He did neither. There were those two discouraged disciples who had lost their faith. They were turning their backs on the place where He would meet His own. His heart went out in sympathy and pity towards them, so He joins Himself to their company. Are you sad? Are you full of anxiety? The Lord knows that. He wants to make His presence a great reality to you.
He knew everything already. Yet He begins with questions instead of telling them who He is.
He Himself knew all their thoughts and the cause of their trouble. Yet by His questions He draws out what was in their minds. In other words, He led them to empty their hearts before He speaks a single word. He might have said at once, "Here I am, risen from the dead." But He first sought to bring their souls into a right state to grasp the truth of His resurrection.
- He draws near Himself. No messenger, no substitute: as the two walk away, He closes the distance.
- He draws near as the risen Man. Himself is the keyword of the chapter — the same Jesus, now risen, seen and known.
- He draws near listening. Their subject was Him, and He was near enough to hear it — interested even in their doubts and fears.
- He draws near unhurried. He could have gone to Jerusalem or Pilate. He chose two discouraged people going the wrong way.
- He draws near questioning. He lets them empty their hearts first. Then He brings them to where they can grasp the resurrection.
but their eyes were holden so as not to know him.
Two disciples walk beside the risen Christ and never once know who He is — Luke says their eyes were kept from it. Was that veil God's kindness or their own failure, and what did He give them while it lasted?
Recognition withheld was not recognition denied. One writer explains what was at stake. Knowing Him too soon would have propped up their old hopes.
Now you see the purpose of their eyes being held until this moment. Suppose they had recognised Him, known Him, and accepted Him earlier. That would have confirmed all the Jewish thoughts and hopes that were so alive in their souls. They are to know Him as the One who died, the One who passed through death.
Their eyes stayed shut, so the Lord reached them another way. He opened the Scriptures to them — and that is how believers are meant to live.
The holding of the disciples' eyes was of importance. In the state they were in, to recognise Jesus would have satisfied their own thoughts. Instead the Lord won their hearts with all that God had said of Him, and gave them understanding of the Scriptures. Then, in an act of close friendship that recalled the great truth of His death, He brought His great deliverance to mind. "We walk by faith, not by sight."
Not everyone traces the blindness to God's plan alone. One writer looks at the two men and finds the fault in them.
It is plain they had failed in faith. The Lord's words were a rebuke; His slowness to give them what they asked was a greater rebuke still.
Another writer traces it to disappointment. They had left the place where they belonged.
They were of the company at Jerusalem, but not in their place. They were walking away, as if everything were over and lost. Things had turned out very differently from what they expected. They were sadly disappointed.
Whatever held their eyes, it did not hold Him back. They moved away from Him. He moved towards them.
Is there a wandering sheep — dejected and disappointed? Then look: "Jesus Himself" will draw near to restore… But in the day that the Emmaus saints drew away, Jesus Himself drew near. What a Saviour! When we were far away He came near, and when we draw away He draws near.
He could have proved who He was to the men in power. He went instead to two men who had given up.
He might have gone to Jerusalem and convinced the leaders of the people that He was indeed the Christ. He might have gone to Pilate and convinced him that he had crucified an innocent Person. But He did neither. Instead there were those two disheartened disciples who had lost their faith. They had turned their backs on the place where He would meet His own. His heart went out to them in sympathy and pity.
Why could they not tell it was Him? One writer suggests the risen Christ was on ground only faith can reach — and that failing to recognise Him says nothing about whether He is there.
He appears to them, as Mark says, "in another form"… The suggestion is that in resurrection He was not on the same plane as before, but on a higher one, where then and now faith alone can grasp Him… In Matthew He promises, "behold, I am with you always." Is that not an assurance that He is with His people in person, even if our eyes are held so that we do not recognise Him — our blessed, risen Lord?
Their eyes did not stay held. Verse 31 says they were opened. One writer asks what made the difference.
Have you ever noticed that their eyes were "held" in verse 16, and their eyes were "opened" in Luke 24:31? Now, dear friends, why was that? Many things are allowed to come in and hinder the soul… I tell you what will open the eyes — a burning heart. When your affection is right you will very soon see things.
- Held. Their eyes were kept shut on purpose, so that they would not take back their old hopes instead of knowing the One who died.
- Drawn near. While they walked away, He walked with them; when we draw away, He draws near.
- Taught. He held back sight and gave them the Scriptures instead — the school of walking by faith, not by sight.
- Present. Recognised or not, He is with His people — the risen Lord on ground that faith alone reaches.
- Opened. The burning heart comes before the open eye — and even now, unrecognised never means absent.
And he said to them, What discourses are these which pass between you as ye walk, and are downcast?
The risen Jesus catches up with two disciples walking away from Jerusalem. He does not announce Himself. Instead He asks about their conversation and their heavy faces. Why does He ask what He already knows — and why were followers of Christ sad on the very morning of His resurrection?
The verse ends with the two travellers halting in the road. That detail links them to the mood of the whole group of disciples that morning.
Here, in Mark, the disciples' unwillingness to believe Mary's testimony is given prominence, and also their unwillingness to believe the two who had travelled that day to Emmaus... The state of the disciples when Mary came to them we also learn only here. "They mourned and wept" (v. 10). This fits perfectly with the behaviour of Cleopas and his companion, who, when a Man they took for a stranger spoke to them, "stood still, looking sad."
Their direction of travel said as much as their faces. They were leaving the very place where the mystery would have been cleared up.
Their backs were toward Jerusalem. They had satisfied themselves that His body was not in the tomb. Their faces were toward Emmaus. It was the third day, and it was all over. No wonder their hearts were sad.
So what lay underneath the sadness?
What was the root of the disappointment of the Emmaus disciples? This — they were occupied with their own thoughts about Christ rather than God's thoughts. Their minds were filled with human thoughts, so they could not grasp divine thoughts. They were "slow of heart to believe" all that the prophets have spoken. Unbelief was behind their disappointment. Unbelief turned their feet away from the Lord's people. Unbelief set their tongues reasoning. It filled their hearts with sadness. It held their eyes shut, so that they could not recognise the Lord.
The problem was not that they had aimed too high in what they hoped from Jesus.
They had decided between themselves that it was no longer any use trying to stand for the One they had followed. Everything had failed. The One they supposed was to redeem Israel had been crucified like the worst of criminals. They thought that was the end, and so they had lost hope. But it was not that they had expected too much of the Lord Jesus — they did not expect enough.
He does not open with proof. He asks a question, and lets them speak first.
Notice the way the Lord deals with these two erring saints. It should be a great help to all who seek to shepherd the Lord's people, and to those who are pastors by a divine gift. He Himself knew all their thoughts and the cause of their trouble. Yet by His questions He draws out what was in their minds. In other words, He led them to empty their hearts before He speaks a single word. He might have said at once, "Here am I, risen from the dead." But first He sought to bring them into a right state of soul, so that they could take in the truth of His resurrection.
Even His follow-up, "What things?", is deliberate.
He replies, "What things?" How skilful His love is in drawing out their hearts! Well He knew, but there is nothing so skilful in this world as love, nothing.
He meets their sadness in person, not by sending word. And He comes while they are walking the wrong way.
He sends no messenger to call these straying saints back to His presence... Is there a wandering sheep — dejected and disappointed? Look: "JESUS HIMSELF" will draw near to restore... How different, sadly, is the way we often treat one another. Does a brother wander away from us? How quick we are to draw away from him. But on the day the Emmaus saints drew away, Jesus Himself drew near. What a Saviour! When we were far away He came near, and when we draw away He draws near.
Their sadness read the events wrongly. Even so, it was honest, and He valued that.
The Lord delights in reality, in truthfulness of heart. These disciples, as they walked, were sad. That sadness was real; it was the feeling that matched their circumstances, as they judged them to be... And Jesus loves that reality. Jesus loves that everything about us should have the stamp of truth in the inward parts. And He joins Himself to these sad ones. He shows them that the things which had happened at Jerusalem, as they were saying, were really for them, and not against them. He makes what was shaking their faith confirm it.
He meets their sorrow by opening the Scriptures to them.
This use of the Scriptures by our Lord is very significant. The word of God is the truest, deepest, weightiest testimony. That is so even though the risen Jesus Himself was there, the living demonstration of it in person... The word of God — here the Old Testament interpreted by Jesus — is the most valuable means for finding out the mind of God.
- Sad — They stood still, looking sad, their backs to Jerusalem. Their faces matched their feet.
- Cause — They held their own thoughts about Christ instead of God's. Unbelief set them reasoning and kept their eyes shut.
- Question — He knew everything already, yet He asked. They emptied their hearts before He spoke a word of truth.
- Nearness — He sent no messenger. On the day they drew away, Jesus Himself drew near.
- Cure — He met honest grief with the Scriptures. They are the surest testimony to the mind of God, even with the risen Christ standing there in person.
And one [of them], named Cleopas, answering said to him, Thou sojournest alone in Jerusalem, and dost not know what has taken place in it in these days?
On the day Jesus rose, two friends were walking from Jerusalem to Emmaus. They were going over the events that had shattered them. A stranger falls in beside them and asks what they are discussing. Cleopas is amazed. He assumes this man must be the only person in the city who has not heard.
The Gospel names the speaker but tells us little else about him. One reference work gives the bare facts and a possible link to another name:
He was one of the two disciples walking to Emmaus on the day of the resurrection, when the Lord drew near and talked with them. He is thought to be the same person as Cleophas (or Clopas in the Greek), mentioned in John 19:25.
Before Cleopas spoke, the Lord had asked why the two were downcast. One writer traces both the sadness and the reasoning back to a single root:
He remarked on that sadness as He asked what they had been talking about. Sadly, unbelief was the cause of both. If only they had believed what they had so often heard, they would have escaped all of it — the reasoning, the sadness, and the weary walk.
Jesus answers Cleopas with two words: "What things?" Yet He knew those things better than anyone alive. Some have taken such questions as proof that He was ignorant of the answers. One writer rejects that, and points to this very exchange:
So Scripture gives no ground at all for the claim that when He "asked for information, it was because He wanted it" — that is, because He did not know. You do not need to study Socrates to know that a question can be put for the sake of the person questioned. Luke 24:18-19 shows it clearly. The Lord's "What things?" did not come from ignorance of His own recent sufferings. He asked only to teach the two disciples.
He questioned them to open their hearts before He gave them the truth:
He Himself knew all their thoughts and the cause of their trouble. Yet He used His questions to draw out what was in their minds. In other words, He led them to empty their hearts before He speaks a single word. He might have said at once, "Here am I, risen from the dead." But He sought first to bring them into a right state of soul, ready to take in the truth of His resurrection.
What drew Jesus on that road was not how much they understood, but how genuine they were:
The Lord sometimes puts Himself in our company so that we may learn just where we are in the history of our souls. He likes us to be real and genuine... And what does He find here? I have no doubt this was very attractive to His heart: a sad couple who understood little, yet a couple deeply interested in Him and in His things.
Cleopas could not imagine that anyone in the city had missed these events. He was speaking to the one Man who knew them from the inside:
Little did Cleopas know how deeply acquainted this "Stranger" was with these things. What follows shows it. Their hearts burned as the unknown speaker drew them like a magnet to the Scriptures they had overlooked in unbelief.
Where the ESV has "visitor," older translations read "stranger." The word was truer than Cleopas knew:
He truly was a "Stranger in Jerusalem." The city refused her rightful Lord, rejected Him, crucified Him. He, for whom there was no room in the inn, and who had nowhere to lay His head, was pushed aside for Barabbas the robber. For His love He received hatred... Yet He who is a stranger in Jerusalem seeks to be a resident in the hearts of His people.
Having drawn out their story, Jesus did not settle the matter by simply revealing Himself. He opened the Old Testament instead:
The accuracy and light of the Scriptures showed where men, and even believers, had overlooked much. The Jews had been content with the general testimony to the nation's hopes and the glory of the kingdom. But, as the Lord showed them, they had passed by what was deeper and now most essential — the sufferings of Christ. He drew the evidence from the written Word of the Old Testament, rather than resting on present facts alone or on His own fresh revelations.
- Stranger: Cleopas thought this man knew least about the events. He knew them best. He had lived them.
- Sadness: their downcast walk and endless reasoning had one cause. They did not believe what they had already been told.
- Questions: the Lord asked what He already knew. A question can serve the person answering it. He empties the heart before He fills it.
- Honesty: what drew Him was not their understanding but their honesty. They were sad and confused, yet still deeply interested in Him.
- Residence: the One treated as a stranger in His own city asks to be no visitor but a permanent dweller in the heart.
And he said to them, What things? And they said to him, The things concerning Jesus the Nazaraean, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people;
A stranger joins two travellers on the road to Emmaus and asks what they have been discussing. Their answer sums up all they knew about Jesus — and all they thought they had lost. What they say about Him is true. But it stops far short of the whole truth.
The Lord already knew the whole story. He asked anyway. One writer sees a purpose in that: He wanted them to speak their sorrow out loud before He answered it.
Everyone who seeks to care for the Lord's people, and everyone who is a pastor by a gift from God, should find great help in watching how the Lord dealt with these two straying believers. He knew all their thoughts and the cause of their trouble, yet He used questions to draw out what was in their minds. In other words, He led them to empty their hearts before He spoke a single word. He could have said at once, "Here am I, risen from the dead." But He first wanted to bring their souls into the right state to understand the truth of His resurrection.
Another writer hears love in the same question.
He answers, "What things?" How skilful His love is at drawing out their hearts! He knew well enough, but there is nothing in this world so skilful as love, nothing… Now you can see how much they knew, and what their hearts were tied to concerning His Person.
Scripture gives a plain test of a true prophet, and Jesus met it in full.
What abundant testimony we have in Scripture that the Christ was the Prophet (see Luke 24:19; John 3:2; 4:19; 6:14; 9:17; 7:40; Acts 2:22; 3:22). Now, a prophet was known by two things — what he said, and what he did. No one ever spoke like Christ. He spoke as one who had authority, and His word was always with power. No one ever did such miracles as He did.
They do not only report what the crowds thought. They add God's own estimate of Him, and then they name who was to blame for His death.
They simply stated the facts about Jesus of Nazareth. He was a prophet mighty in deed and word, not only in the eyes of the people, but "before God" — something no honest mind could fail to see. They also knew that the chief priests and rulers were fully responsible for handing Him over to be condemned, and for crucifying Him. They did not mention Rome or Pilate.
Their confession was true. It was also too small to carry them through His death.
To them Jesus of Nazareth was "a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people," and there their faith stopped. They did not yet see in Him the Son of God whom death could not hold. So to them His death was the sad end of His story… Their disappointment grew out of hopes they had cherished that the Word of God never gave them. They expected the glory without the sufferings.
They had hoped for rescue by power. He was about to teach them a redemption of another kind.
He drew out their thoughts to lead them into the truth. The sorrows of His rejection seemed to them impossible to explain, and quite against what they expected. He wanted them to see that the Word of God required those very sorrows. Then those sorrows would confirm their faith instead of endangering it. They had looked for redemption by power. Now, in His suffering to the very end, the Just for the unjust, they learn redemption by blood — and not only that, but a new life out of death, and greater than death.
The problem was not that they had no thoughts about Christ. It was whose thoughts they were.
But what was the root of the disappointment of the Emmaus disciples? This — their minds were full of their own thoughts about Christ instead of God's thoughts… Unbelief turned their feet away from the Lord's people. Unbelief set their tongues reasoning, filled their hearts with sadness, and held their eyes shut, so that they could not recognise the Lord.
- Question — He knew every detail, yet He asked. He wanted them to empty their hearts before He filled them.
- Confession — A prophet was known by what he said and what he did. No one ever matched Him in either.
- Ceiling — Their faith stopped at "prophet". They had not yet seen the Son of God whom death could not hold, so the cross looked to them like the end.
- Correction — They looked for redemption by power. He taught them redemption by blood, the Just for the unjust.
- Cause — Under the sadness lay their own thoughts about Christ in place of God's. That unbelief kept their eyes shut.
and how the chief priests and our rulers delivered him up to [the] judgment of death and crucified him.
Two followers of Jesus are walking to the village of Emmaus. They are telling a stranger the news from Jerusalem, and this verse is the heart of their report: their own religious leaders had handed Jesus over to be sentenced and killed. Every fact is true. Yet the story has left them heartbroken. What were they missing?
The two men name names. They do not blame Rome or its governor. They point to the chief priests and to their own rulers.
They saw how fully the chief priests and rulers were responsible for handing Him over to be condemned, and for crucifying Him. They did not mention either Rome or Pilate.
That does not clear Rome. The word "delivered" means a handover: the leaders passed Jesus on to the civil power. One writer traces the guilt on both sides:
Jesus had to be condemned by man in every role — religious and civil. The Jews, acting in the name of religion, carried the chief guilt. They stirred up the civil authorities and pressed them to give in against their own conscience, as we see in the mock trial before Pilate. So we see He was "despised and rejected by men." Not by one class of men only, but by every class.
They can give a correct account of the trial, the sentence and the cross. What they cannot do is believe it means anything good.
His crucifixion, death and burial fill their whole conversation as they walk along, sad. Their love for Him is strong, and as deep as it is real. But faith is missing, so they are cast down and full of sorrow. Their minds fret and their spirits are wounded by what He suffered at the hands of sinful men.
Jesus had told them in advance that this would happen. His words had not stayed with them.
Their hearts had been leaky jars for those words. His words had dripped through those poor leaky jars and were gone; they had forgotten them. The Lord had often spoken of it. There was plenty of testimony to the fact that He would be killed by men, by His own people, and raised up again the third day. But they had forgotten it all.
The same blind spot ran through their reading of the prophets. Some texts they loved. Others they never took in:
They had their favourite texts, and those texts spoke of the great power of the Messiah — power that would crush their enemies and make them the head of the nations. These they read and cherished and loved. But the texts that spoke of His sorrows, how well He knew grief, His humiliation, rejection and death — these they had neither understood nor believed.
They had hoped for a rescue by force. The condemnation and the cross taught them a different rescue altogether.
But He drew out their thoughts to lead them into the truth. The sorrows of His rejection seemed impossible to explain, and the opposite of all they expected. He wanted them to see that God's Word itself called for those sorrows, so that the cross would confirm their faith instead of endangering it. They had looked for redemption by power. Now, in His suffering to the uttermost, the Just for the unjust, they learn redemption by blood. And not only this: in Him God shows us a new life out of death, a life greater than death, and makes it ours.
They are walking away from Jerusalem and away from the other believers.
No messenger is sent to call these straying believers back to His presence. When all goes well with His people, angels, apostles, prophets and others may carry out His orders, as we know well from many a fine scene in the Word. But is there a wandering sheep — downcast and disappointed? Then "JESUS HIMSELF" will draw near to restore… In the day that the Emmaus believers drew away, Jesus Himself drew near. What a Saviour! When we were far away He came near, and when we draw away He draws near.
- Delivered. The two blame the chief priests and their own rulers, not Rome or Pilate. The chief guilt lay with those who acted in the name of religion.
- Facts. Their report is accurate. Facts about the cross, held without faith, produced only sadness.
- Forgotten. Jesus had often said He would be killed and raised the third day. Their hearts were leaky jars, and the words ran out.
- Redemption. They expected redemption by power. The cross taught them redemption by blood — the Just for the unjust.
- Drawn near. They walked away from Jerusalem and Jesus Himself walked beside them. When His people draw away, He draws near.
But *we* had hoped that *he* was [the one] who is about to redeem Israel. But then, besides all these things, it is now, to-day, the third day since these things took place.
Two followers of Jesus walk away from Jerusalem on the third day, and a stranger asks what they are discussing. Their answer holds faith and collapse at once, and everything turns on what "redeem Israel" meant to them and to God.
They speak in the past tense because a whole picture of the future had just collapsed.
We can hardly imagine the expectations stirred in them by the coming of Israel's Messiah. Visions filled their eyes: freedom from the Roman yoke, a national revival, glory and splendour under David's Son. They expected a large share in it themselves. "We had hoped," they said, "that He was the one to redeem Israel." Now that vision lay shattered. He did not take David's throne and overthrow Caesar. Instead, Caesar's soldiers lifted Him up on a cross, and the whole people fastened Caesar's yoke on their own necks more firmly than ever. They said openly, "We have no king but Caesar." Sick at heart, and unable to solve the riddle of His claims, which they accepted, and of His sudden and dramatic disappearance, Cleopas and his companion were on the point of giving up their discipleship and going home.
For them "redeem" meant one thing: rescue by power.
Their thought was the redemption of Israel by power. They had no idea of a new and heavenly life, though of course they had it. Even for the Christ, death had to come in, so that God would be vindicated and man really blessed. Moses and all the prophets had taught this.
They blamed the cross for ending redemption. The cross is what secured it.
The blood of His cross made peace in God's mind. To their minds it was still bitter anguish and cruel disappointment. His words had fallen on ears still deaf to the meaning of His death. They did not know the Scripture that He must suffer in this way, so that they, or anyone, might have redemption. On the resurrection day the downcast pair on the way to Emmaus showed the state of them all. They said to Him, "We had hoped that He was the one to redeem Israel." Yet that was the very thing for which He had laid the effective and everlasting basis!
They felt like orphans, and they read the calendar the same way.
To their own thoughts they were thrown on the world, friendless and fatherless, orphans indeed. The third day had brought them almost nothing of the light of His resurrection morning. They only mention the day to Him as the measure of how far His death had left them deserted. "It is now the third day since these things happened."
Their sentence sounds like failure. One writer finds faith and love inside it.
They give their account, showing at once their faith and how their whole souls were taken up with the Lord. It must have refreshed His blessed heart to hear them speak like this. Despite their ignorance and disappointment, and despite the weakness of their faith, love to Him was there. "We had hoped that He was the one to redeem Israel" tells not of a dead hope, but a sleeping one.
One writer treats Cleopas as a case study for every disappointed believer.
Disappointed people have some little "Israel" of their own that fills their thoughts, just as Cleopas did. If Israel had been redeemed just as Cleopas expected, he would have been overjoyed. It was not so, and he lost his enthusiasm and interest. He had to learn that although Israel stood right at the centre of the bright little picture his imagination had painted, it was not at the centre of God's picture. God's picture is the real one, and its centre is Christ risen from the dead. Jesus joined them, drew out their thoughts and won their confidence. Then He opened up to them not things concerning Israel, but "things concerning HIMSELF." The sure cure for disappointment is to have Christ filling every picture our minds hold — not work, not even Christian work, not fellow believers, nor even the church, not self in any of its many forms, but Christ.
- Hope. They believed the right Person but expected the wrong thing: freedom from Rome, David's throne, national glory. The cross flattened all of it.
- Redemption. They wanted Israel freed by power. God's way ran through death, which alone vindicated God and brought man real blessing.
- Irony. They mourned the cross as the end of redemption. It is the everlasting basis on which redemption rests.
- Timing. The third day carried the light of His rising. They read it as the measure of how far His death had left them deserted.
- Cure. Their hope was sleeping, not dead. Jesus woke it by moving the centre of the picture from their small "Israel" to Himself.
And withal, certain women from amongst us astonished us, having been very early at the sepulchre,
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
and, not having found his body, came, saying that they also had seen a vision of angels, who say that he is living.
Two disciples are walking to Emmaus. They tell a Stranger why they are so sad, and in the middle of their story comes this report from the women: angels had said He was alive. So why did such astonishing news leave them downcast? What would turn a report into faith?
The women's own errand was stopped before it began. What they met at the tomb instead came in two parts:
The Jewish sabbath came in between and stopped the women's preparations. This was of God, for those preparations were completely unnecessary. By the time the women could take them up again, the sacred body was not to be found. Instead of the dead body they found two men in shining garments. From their lips they heard that the Lord was now "the living One" and not among the dead. So the first testimony to His resurrection came from the lips of angels. A second testimony came from the words He Himself had spoken during His life. He had predicted His death and His resurrection. When reminded of His words, they remembered them.
The angels tell the women He is alive — but they do not arrange a meeting, and their words carry a rebuke:
The announcement comes by angels, and that fact alone gives it an air of distance. The reserve and reproof running through the message make that distance greater. They do not even promise a meeting with Him: He is alive; had He not told them He would rise? Why seek the living One among the dead? The women are confused and terrified; the apostles doubt: these are tales, idle tales, born in the minds of excitable, dreamy women.
The two on the road repeat the women's words correctly. Still they cannot make anything of them:
Comparing the Gospels, we find, first, that the disciples were all in great perplexity. They had no idea of resurrection. John tells us this plainly, and the same thing shows in what the two on the road to Emmaus admit… Some people believed particular details, or facts, but no one understood the great truth.
Their slowness to believe has an unexpected benefit. It clears them of the charge that they made the story up:
The apostles would not accept the word of the women about the resurrection of the Lord. The women no doubt repeated what the angels said, that the Lord had declared long before that He would be crucified and rise again the third day. The disciples probably asked, if He were raised, why had no one seen Him alive? But God's wisdom shows here. It was a test of the disciples' faith in Christ's own words, backed up by the angels' report to the women. And the cynicism of the disciples is clear proof that they had no thought of inventing a false story of resurrection to deceive the world.
The women's report is real evidence, but not the last kind. The proofs came in stages, each stronger than the one before:
The empty tomb would have been a precious gift to faith, and it was enough for John (John 20:8). The testimony of the angels would have been stronger testimony. But the crown of all was to see Him, to handle Him, to watch Him eat, to hear Him speak. This was indeed the full fruit.
When Jesus joins them, He does not offer more proof. He turns them to what was already written:
Jesus hears their sad story from their own lips. He brings out the state of their hearts. Then He opens the Scriptures, instead of just pointing to the facts as evidence. This use of the Scriptures by our Lord is very significant. The word of God is the truest, deepest, weightiest testimony — even when the risen Jesus Himself is there as its living proof in person.
Even their sad report was a first light of faith:
So already, without their knowing it, a resurrection faith was dawning in them. It needed only the confirmation of the Word to set their hearts burning, and to make them ready for the risen Lord to appear to them Himself.
- Angels first. The first witness to the resurrection came from angels. The second came from words Jesus had already spoken, and they had forgotten them.
- Angels keep their distance. Their message holds back and rebukes. It promises no meeting with Him. It points away from the grave without ending the search.
- Facts without faith. They believed the details but missed the great truth. You can repeat a report word for word and still be in despair.
- Doubt as evidence. Their doubt tested their faith in Christ's own words. It also proves they were not inventing a story to deceive the world.
- From report to Person. The empty tomb was a gift to faith. The angels' word was stronger. But the crown was to see, hear and handle Him — and it was the Scriptures, not the evidence alone, that made their hearts burn.
And some of those with us went to the sepulchre, and found it so, as the women also had said, but him they saw not.
On the road out of Jerusalem, Cleopas has just told a stranger everything that happened there. Others had checked the tomb and the women were right, yet no one had seen Jesus — so why did an empty grave change nothing in these two men?
The women's story was not left as rumour. Others went to the grave and came back saying the same thing. That is where Cleopas's summary ends, and it ends in disappointment.
Cleopas ended his explanation by saying that men who went to the grave had confirmed that the Lord's body was gone. But they had not seen Him. You may wonder why these two left Jerusalem without waiting to see how it all turned out. But discouragement was a strong influence — and too often it still is with us.
What those men found is described more fully elsewhere: no angels, no voices, just an empty tomb and the grave-clothes lying in order.
For themselves apparently satisfied with this negative proof of the resurrection, they return to their own home.
The closing words of the verse are the point of the whole speech. Everything before them is preparation for one loss.
There was yet more. Some of the disciples went to the tomb as well and found it just as the women had said. Then Cleopas added the words that held the cause of all their grief: "But Him they did not see."
Those closing words carry a lesson beyond that one morning. Signs and messengers, real as they were, could not take the place of Christ Himself.
They had seen the empty tomb. They had listened to the angel. But Jesus they had not seen. As we read in Luke's Gospel, "Him they did not see." Apart from Christ Himself, the great stone rolled away, the empty tomb and the vision of angels only leave us trembling and amazed.
Why did men who saw the tomb with their own eyes just go home? One writer traces it not to weak evidence, but to Scripture they had never taken in.
Peter and John were slow in the same way. The resurrection was plain when they entered the empty tomb. The folded napkin and the careful order of the linen clothes showed that nobody had secretly taken the body of Jesus away. He had risen by His own power. No doubt they were amazed, but they went home. Nothing they did matched the immense fact of the resurrection. Why? Because they still did not know the Scripture, that He must rise from the dead. Scripture is now the resting-place for faith. No matter what the external evidence, there is no true faith apart from the written word.
The strangest thing here is who was listening. They told the story of a missing Christ to the Christ walking beside them. Mary had made the same mistake at the tomb.
Mary mistook Him for the gardener, and these two take Him for a stranger in Israel. The third day had brought so little of the light of His resurrection morning into their thoughts. They mention the day to Him only as the measure of how deserted His death had left them.
He listens to the whole account. Then He settles it, not by pointing at the facts, but by turning them to what was already written.
Jesus hears this tale of sorrow from their lips. He brings out the state of their hearts. Then He opens the Scriptures, instead of just appealing to the facts as evidence. This use of the Scriptures by our Lord is very significant. The word of God is the truest, deepest, weightiest testimony — even when the risen Jesus Himself was there as its living demonstration in person.
He could have given them fresh proof. He chose the written word they already had.
The written Word was enough to have taught them everything that had happened. He first rebuked them for being slow of heart to believe it, and then turned them to it. He would settle their faith on what God had already given. He gave them no fresh revelation. They must stand on the written word of God... What He sought for those two, He still seeks: that souls should take God at His word, and rest on what He has revealed.
- Confirmed. Others went to the tomb and found the women's report accurate. The facts were never the problem.
- Missing. Cleopas ends on the loss behind all his grief: the tomb was empty, but they had not seen Jesus.
- Not enough. Without Christ Himself, a rolled-away stone, an empty grave and even angels only leave people amazed and trembling.
- Unread. Peter and John saw the ordered grave-clothes and still went home. They did not yet know the Scripture that He must rise.
- Answered. Jesus filled the gap not with fresh proof but with the written word. That is where faith still rests today.
And *he* said to them, O senseless and slow of heart to believe in all that the prophets have spoken!
Two disciples walk away from Jerusalem in gloom. The risen Christ joins them, and they do not recognise Him. His first word is not comfort but rebuke. So why does He blame their hearts and not their circumstances? And what had they failed to believe?
Their grief looked like a fair response to a crucifixion. The Lord traces it elsewhere.
This unusual Stranger spoke to them tenderly and faithfully, with surprising words: "O foolish ones, and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken!" (v.25). Their own lack of faith in the Word of God had led to their discouragement. After all, the Old Testament prophets had given clear witness to the sufferings and death of the Messiah of Israel.
They were not unbelievers. They believed part of what the prophets said. That partial faith was the problem.
Such is the real secret of unbelief in believers. They fail because they do not believe all. With only a partial view of divine truth, they easily exaggerate one point or another. And since they do not read Christ throughout Scripture, they tend to dodge the rejection in the world that disciples must accept, or at least go through, if they follow the Master. They will share His glory later on just as surely.
The same narrow reading is still possible today.
They had their favourite texts and dwelt on them. They had not taken in all the Scriptures, and had not realised that He was the theme of them all. If we realise that, we shall pay greater attention to the Scriptures. We shall read them more often, and not stay with our favourite texts.
Which part of the prophets' witness had they left out?
There was one thing they all seemed to fail to grasp about Christ, and that was the necessity of His sufferings. It was foretold that the Christ was to be the centre of all the coming glory. But it was also foretold — and this is where the difficulty came, a difficulty with thoughtful Jews even today — that "the Christ must suffer." They could believe all those glowing prophecies about Him, the throne, the dominion and the glory. But when it was said He would be wounded for their transgressions and bruised for their iniquities, they seemed unable to connect that with the Messiah, the Christ who is yet to reign so gloriously.
Their minds were already full — of the wrong thoughts.
They were occupied with their own thoughts about Christ instead of God's thoughts. With minds full of human thoughts they were unable to grasp divine thoughts — they were "slow of heart to believe" all that the prophets have spoken. Unbelief lay behind their disappointment. Unbelief turned their feet away from the Lord's people. Unbelief set their tongues reasoning, filled their hearts with sadness, and held their eyes shut, so that they could not recognise the Lord.
The rebuke is the first step in a work of restoration.
Finding out what is in our hearts does not restore us, important as that is in the work of restoration. We do need true thoughts of our own hearts, to learn how we wander onto a wrong path. But we must have true thoughts of His heart, so that our feet may be brought back to a right path. This is the way the Lord takes with the two disciples. Having exposed all that was in their hearts, He reveals all that is in His heart. And revealing what is in His heart turns their "slow hearts" into "burning hearts."
One Person ties the whole Bible together.
The theme here is "Himself," and truly His name runs like a golden thread through every part of God's Word. Oh, dear friends, have your hearts found that out? Christ is the centre of Scripture; He is the centre of all the thoughts and purposes and counsels of God. If you do not have Christ simply before your soul you can never understand the Scriptures.
The charge gets turned around today.
Sadly, these days a man is counted a fool if he does believe all that the prophets have spoken. In many learned circles — and in not a few religious circles too — the man who says openly, as every true man should, that he believes every line of Holy Scripture with all his heart will almost surely meet a sneer of contempt.
- Cause — Their sadness came from unbelief, not from their circumstances. The prophets had spoken of His sufferings long before they happened.
- Partial — The rebuke rests on one word: all. Believers fail by keeping a few favourite texts and skipping the rest.
- Skipped — What they had left out was the suffering Messiah; they held the glory and could not join it to the wounds.
- Heart — The slowness sits in the heart, not just the head. Minds full of their own thoughts about Christ cannot take in God's thoughts.
- Burning — He exposes their hearts in order to reveal His own. The slow heart becomes a burning heart, and the golden thread through all Scripture is Himself.
Ought not the Christ to have suffered these things and to enter into his glory?
Two followers of Jesus were walking away from Jerusalem to the village of Emmaus, in grief. They were sure the cross had ended everything they hoped for. The risen Lord answers them with a question, not with proof that He is alive. That question turns the cross from an accident into a necessity.
The disciples knew their Scriptures. Their problem was that they believed only part of them. They welcomed the promises of a reigning Messiah. They had no room for a wounded one.
There was one thing they all seemed to fail to grasp about Christ, and that was the necessity of His sufferings. It was foretold that the Christ was to be the centre of all the coming glory. But it was also foretold — and this is where the difficulty came — that the Christ must suffer. They might believe all those glowing prophecies about Him: the throne, the dominion and the glory. But when the prophets said He was going to be pierced for their transgressions and crushed for their iniquities, they seemed unable to connect that with the Messiah who is yet to reign so gloriously.
The verse turns on one word: necessary. His suffering was not bad luck, and not a plan that went wrong.
In the world as it is, Christ could not help but suffer; and everyone who is perfected shall be as He is. It is morally inevitable. God's own nature makes it so, and the Word requires it as well. It could not be otherwise, God being what He is, and man a sinner held in bondage to the enemy.
A crown was once offered to Him without a cross, and He turned it down.
He has indeed come — but not to claim those rights. Instead He let man have his hour, and let the power of darkness assert itself, so that He might carry out redemption by His death. Satan, who has wickedly seized the crown, even offered it to Him during the temptation in the wilderness. He refused it. He would not take that short and easy way to glory. He chose the hard road that lay through death and resurrection.
Their hope had been a Messiah who would break Rome's grip. What they receive on the road is something larger than what they had wanted.
He drew out their thoughts to lead them into the truth. The sorrows of His rejection seemed impossible to explain, and did not fit what they expected. Yet He led them to see that the divine Word itself required those sorrows... They had looked for redemption by power. Now, in His suffering to the very limit, the Just for the unjust, they learn redemption by blood. And not this only: a new life out of death and above it, given to us in Him, with Satan's power in sin and its consequences defeated for ever.
He was already glorious long before Bethlehem, so the phrase needs care.
What glory is this? He is Himself the Source and Centre of glory, so nothing could be added to Him. But His death and resurrection brought a whole new order of things into being. He takes His place at the Head of that, in the full power of redemption glory.
William Kelly draws the same line, and shows why it matters to us.
His glory is the consequence of His sufferings. I am not speaking, of course, of His personal external glory. That is another thing. I speak of the glory He takes as man, for this is what brings us in — although it could not have been, had He not been God.
After the question He opened the Scriptures to them, from Moses onward. The way He did it shows how the whole Bible is put together.
He Himself — all homage to His glorious Person! — is the divine centre of all the things contained in the Scriptures from cover to cover. He is the golden chain that joins every part of the inspired book, from Genesis to Revelation, into one marvellous and magnificent whole.
The pattern He set is not His alone. It runs on into the lives of those who follow Him, with one great difference.
And truly the saints' way to salvation lies along the same road (Rom. 8:17): "provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him." There is only this advantage: He went first and beat the road flat. Now we can cross it, though apart from Him it would have been impassable to us.
- Must, not might. His suffering was not a plan that failed. God's own nature demanded it, and the Word had said it.
- Refused shortcut. In the wilderness Satan offered Him the crown without a cross. He chose the hard road through death instead.
- Blood, not power. They wanted a Messiah who would break Rome; He gave them redemption by His own blood, the Just for the unjust.
- Glory as man. Nothing could be added to His eternal Person. As man He entered a new place: Head of a new order won by resurrection.
- Same road. Suffering first, then glory: that is the believer's order too. He walked the road ahead of us and made it passable.
And having begun from Moses and from all the prophets, he interpreted to them in all the scriptures the things concerning himself.
The two disciples walking to Emmaus had lost hope, because their Messiah had died on a cross. Now the risen Lord walks beside them unrecognised and opens the Old Testament to them — why the Scriptures, and not a sight of His face?
The two names are not a short reading list. They are a way of naming the entire Hebrew Bible.
The phrase "Moses and all the Prophets" takes in the whole of the Old Testament. "Beginning with Moses" means the five books of Moses — Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers and Deuteronomy. Then come "all the Prophets," and "He interpreted to them in all the Scriptures" — that is, the Old Testament Scriptures — "the things concerning Himself."
That starting point settles a question people still argue over: who wrote those first five books.
He spoke with great care of Daniel as "the prophet" near the close of the Old Testament, and of Moses at the beginning as the writer of the law. He does not simply leave the Jewish view of Moses unchallenged. He affirms it, and He insists on it Himself, again and again, in the plainest terms.
If Christ runs through the Scriptures from Genesis onwards, He is not one theme among many. He holds the whole book together.
He Himself — all honour to His glorious Person! — is the divine centre of all the things contained in the Scriptures from cover to cover. He is the golden chain. It binds every part of the inspired volume, from Genesis to Revelation, into one marvellous and magnificent whole.
What He showed them reached beyond the passages we call predictions. The same teaching is open to us today.
This would include types (pictures) of Himself, of His sacrifice and of His resurrection glory, as well as direct prophecies. How marvellous this long discourse must have been! Yet it was only for these two, however much we might wish someone had written it down for us. But it is the work of the Holy Spirit today to take the things of Christ and show them to us. So, by diligent faith and submission to Him, we too may learn the same things.
He was alive and walking beside them. He could have settled everything by pointing to the plain facts. He opened the Scriptures instead.
Jesus hears their sad story from their own lips. He brings out the state of their hearts. Then He opens the Scriptures, instead of just pointing to the facts as evidence. This use of the Scriptures by our Lord is very significant. The word of God is the truest, deepest and weightiest testimony — even when the risen Jesus Himself stood there as its living proof in person... From then on it was not a question of a living Messiah on the earth, but of One who had died and risen, now seen by faith in the word of God.
Notice what He withheld as much as what He gave.
The written Word was enough to have taught them about all that had happened. First He rebuked them for being slow of heart to believe it. Then He turned them back to it. He would settle their faith on what God had already given. He gave them no fresh revelation. They must stand on the written word of God. That done, He made Himself known as risen from the dead... What He sought for those two, He seeks for still, that souls should take God at His word, and rest on what He has revealed. The sooner a soul does that, the sooner it will have peace with God.
The story He drew out of the Scriptures has two parts in a set order. Human thinking would gladly drop the first.
To reveal the love of His heart He expounds "to them in all the Scriptures the things concerning Himself". And as He expounds He passes before them the touching story of His sufferings and His glories. The disciples, with their poor human thoughts, would have spared Him the sufferings. That would have kept His glories from Him.
The change in these two men was a change of subject.
The two disciples had been thinking of the things concerning themselves. The Lord leads them to "the things concerning Himself". Their desire was to bring Christ into their circumstances. He would lead them into His, and have them know Him as the Risen One outside this present evil world.
Anyone who has been moved by good teaching about Christ can guess a little of what that walk was like.
Think what it must have been to hear Him going through the Scriptures from Moses on, and from type, shadow, figure, offering and sacrifice, picking out what told of Himself, and so explaining it that their hearts began to burn. No wonder — the fact was this: they had never met such a Stranger, they had never had such teaching, and never had such company before.
- Scope. "Moses and all the Prophets" means the whole Old Testament. Christ started at page one and left nothing out.
- Centre. Across that whole range He is the one subject: the golden chain binding every part of the volume into one.
- Method. He opened the Scriptures instead of simply appearing. He wanted their faith to rest on the written word, not on what they could see.
- Order. What He drew out was sufferings first and glory after — the very sequence their hopes had reversed.
- Result. He turns hearts from their own concerns to Himself, and has them know Him as the Risen One outside this present world.
And they drew near to the village where they were going, and *he* made as though he would go farther.
The two disciples reach their village at the end of the day. The risen Lord walks with them, still unrecognised. He then acts as if He is travelling on. It looks like a small detail. But everything that follows at Emmaus turns on it.
He had walked the whole road with them. Even so, He does not invite Himself in. He leaves the next move to them.
How beautiful that touch is. Christ never forces His company on us. He did not force it that day, and He does not do it today. I can tell you exactly how much of Christ you will get. As much as you really want. "He acted as if He were going farther." And now the right state appears. They constrained Him, saying, "Abide with us." Here we see the courtesy that always marked Him. It was one of the perfections of His path as a Man. What right had He to enter that house? He had a right, but He did not assert it. The question was this: did they want Him?
To their eyes He was only a fellow traveller who had fallen in beside them. A stranger has no claim on a home. What we know Him to be decides what He claims.
"He acted as if He were going farther." How perfect that little movement was! What title had He, a Stranger as He seemed to be, to push Himself on them? He had only joined them on the road, with the courtesy of someone travelling the same way. What right had such a person to cross their threshold? If Jesus is only a Stranger in our eyes, He will still walk outside. Until we know Him as the Saviour, the Lover of our souls, He asks for nothing. But when we know Him as the Son of God who has loved us and given Himself for us, then He claims a place in our hearts and our homes. Then He will live with us and eat with us, as it were, uninvited.
The move is deliberate. Having spent the road opening the Scriptures to them, He now puts their new-found affection to the proof.
The Lord had exposed their hearts and revealed His heart, but for what purpose? Clearly to lead them to desire His company above everything else. Now He will test them to see if His purpose has been reached... He had drawn near to win their hearts; He will now draw away to lead out their hearts in longing desire after Him. And they respond beautifully to the Lord's testing. He wants them. He had endured the sufferings of the cross to have them. But He has so dealt with them that at last they want Him.
Was He unwilling to stay? From the outside the move looks like a refusal. From His heart it is the opposite.
The deepest love was shown in that action of the Blessed One. If you look at it merely from the outside, you would fail to see how blessed it is. But He drew off so that He might draw out. Though He tried to leave them, His heart was toward them... How gladly He goes! That is why He drew off. Blessed be His name forever, He loves to be constrained.
Their reply in the next verse is no polite offer. The word itself carries weight — and it met no resistance in Him.
He knew the state of their souls, and that there was still more work to be done before they were fully restored. That further work was the revelation of Himself. So when He acted as if He were going farther, it was only to bring out the request He knew would come — that He would stay with them. The word "constrain" is a strong one; its force is that they would take no denial... How much, we might say, they would have lost if they had not constrained Him to enter!
Writers connect this scene with the risen Christ standing outside a door and knocking. Once inside, the roles quietly reverse.
The Lord will not force His presence where and when it is not wanted. The heartbroken travellers to Emmaus constrained Him to enter, and He went in to stay with them. In the presence of the risen Jesus everything is changed: He becomes the host and they His guests.
- He draws near. On the road He exposes their hearts and reveals His own, kindling a desire He means to test.
- He draws back. Reaching the village He acts as though going on — not coldness, but love drawing off to draw out.
- He waits. He never forces His company; we get as much of Christ as we truly want.
- They constrain. Their words take no denial, and He loves to be constrained.
- He enters. Inside, everything changes: the Guest becomes the Host and they His guests.
And they constrained him, saying, Stay with us, for it is toward evening and the day is declining. And he entered in to stay with them.
The two travellers reach their village, and their companion acts as if He will walk on. Their plea, stay with us, raises two questions: why did He act that way, and why does such a plea please Him so much?
He had drawn near to them on the road. Commentators see the moment at the door as a test: did they now want His company?
The Lord had exposed their hearts and revealed His heart, but to what end? Clearly to lead them to desire His company above all else. Now He will test them to see if the "end of the Lord" is reached... He had drawn near to win their hearts, He will now draw away to lead out their hearts in longing desire after Him. And very blessedly they respond to the testing of the Lord... He wants them. He endured the sufferings of the cross to have them. But He has so dealt with them that at last they want Him.
The ESV says the disciples "urged him strongly" and asked Him to "stay." Older translations say they "constrained" Him and asked Him to "abide."
Only twice is the word here translated "constrained" found in the New Testament. The other place uses it in exactly the same way. Lydia "constrained" Paul and Silas to stay with her (Acts 16:15). In the same way the two disciples "constrained" our blessed Lord, saying, "Abide with us." It is a strong word. In classical Greek it can even mean doing violence to someone. In the passages referred to, it means constraining in the sense of taking no denial. How such a constraint must have delighted the Lord's heart! With what joy He would answer a plea pressed like that!
He does not force His way in. One writer notes that the pressure runs both ways between Christ and His people.
He will never compel me to have His company. I do not deny what I may call the compulsion of grace upon the sinner. But with a believer He does not act like that. Do you and I covet His company? "He made as though He would have gone further"... There is such a thing as the love of Christ constraining us. But here it was the love of saints constraining Him. It is reciprocal constraint.
They asked because the light was fading. Notice what He did not do about it.
It was not that He revived the day. He did not turn the shadow back on the sundial, not even by one degree. He did not command the sun to stand still. The day still declined. But they had found One who could comfort them among the shadows. So when they reached the point where their ways seemed to divide — for He made as if He would go further — they could not part with Him. They had to keep Him as their comfort in the darkness of the night.
That plea, in its older wording, has travelled far beyond Emmaus:
Luke 24:29. — "Stay." The Authorized Version has "abide," which inspired Lyte's well-known hymn, "Abide with me."
One writer applies the scene to our own homes.
We get as much of the Lord's company as we desire, and if He is to stay with us we must constrain Him. These two disciples constrained Him and He entered their house and stayed with them. First He put them right about Himself, individually, and then He took His place in their home: He was Lord there. It is the only place He can take... They supposed that He was their guest, but in fact they were His guests.
The verse is read as a pattern for believers whose own day is running out.
The disciples on their way to Emmaus asked the Lord: "Stay with us, for it is toward evening and the day is now far spent"... Look at the state of His testimony on earth. Don't we have to say, "it is toward evening" and the day of grace is "far spent"? Is there not the same desire in our hearts, to ask: "Lord, abide with us, be near to us"? This verse shows that the attitude of a broken heart has the assurance of His nearness.
- He withdraws. The move to go further was not indifference but testing — He drew away to draw out their desire for Him.
- They constrain. The word means taking no denial; the only other time it appears, Lydia used the same pressure on Paul and Silas.
- He never forces. He never compels a believer to keep Him, and we get as much of His company as we desire.
- He abides. He did not turn the day back or stop the sun; He became their comfort inside the darkness that stayed.
- He reigns. Invited in as a guest, He took the place of Lord in the house — the pattern for any home that gives Him first place.
And it came to pass as he was at table with them, having taken the bread, he blessed, and having broken it, gave it to them.
Two grieving disciples had asked a stranger to stay the night. At the table He reversed the roles and served them Himself. Two questions follow: what did this simple act mean, and why did they know Him at that exact moment?
The house was theirs. But the moment He handled the bread, the evening changed hands.
Here of course He takes His true place. He must be the master of the house. He is not the guest now. All is His. And sitting at the table, what does He do? "He took bread, and blessed it, and broke it, and gave it to them." At once there is a recognition of Himself, and of His authority.
The act carried a claim no ordinary visitor could make.
Sitting down to a meal with them, the Lord took the place of the host without warning. He took bread, blessed it by giving thanks, broke it, and gave it to these two disciples. Only the Son of God would have the right to do this in the home of another.
The word "blessed" can sound mysterious, as if He worked something on the bread itself. Older translations read "blessed it," while the ESV has simply "he took the bread and blessed." One writer keeps the sense plain.
The Jews already practised the breaking of bread. They broke bread with those who were grieving (Jeremiah 16:7). The Lord took up this custom for the breaking of bread. "He took bread, and blessed it" (Luke 24:30) means He gave thanks to God, no more.
The setting is worth noticing too.
At the evening meal in Emmaus, He "took bread, and blessed" (Luke 24:30). This time the meal was private, not public. It was in the house, not on the hillside. Probably only two people were there with the Lord, not a great crowd. The risen Lord gave thanks at a little cottage meal!
Was this the Lord's Supper? Commentators say no — but the act was chosen with purpose.
This was not the Lord's Supper. But Jesus deliberately used that act of breaking the bread, the act the Lord's Supper keeps setting before us. In it, as we know, bread is broken — the sign of His death. So Jesus, there with them Himself, was pleased to let the truth of His death flash upon the two souls at Emmaus. They came to know Him in the breaking of bread — in that most simple but striking action which symbolises His death.
Teaching alone had not opened their eyes. Recognition came through an act tied to His death.
We are to feed on Christ — not only as a living Messiah, and not only as the One alive again for ever in resurrection. We must feed on Him as the One who died, His body broken and His blood shed in atonement. This is how the Lord was known to the disciples at Emmaus, though it was not the Lord's Supper... But what actually revealed Him was the moving fact of His being personally with them in the breaking of bread. It was Himself who broke the bread. There could be no mistake.
The same act pointed forward as well as back — it cut them loose from the old way of knowing Him.
By making Himself known in the meaningful act of "breaking bread," the Lord showed plainly that His death had cut them off from every connection with Him "after the flesh." At the same time it drew their hearts after Him as the One "risen out of death."
This scene reaches any home that welcomes Him.
They supposed that He was their guest, but as a matter of fact they were His guests. He took bread, and blessed it and handed it to them. There was in that village of Emmaus one home at least that recognised Him as Lord. We may only have a small cottage, perhaps only one room. But what a wonderful thing to be able to say: "Within the four walls of this room the Lord has His true place."
And what happened over a plain supper can happen again in unremarkable moments.
Wherever the heart is made ready by faith in the word of God and submission to it, the Lord will bring His past grace back to us. He does this in many a simple act — not necessarily in the "breaking of bread," but in countless little ways. Then the heart may not only burn; there is a flash of recognition of Himself, and the soul is restored to the enjoyment it knew before.
- Invited — They thought they had welcomed a guest into their home; in fact they were His guests.
- Enthroned — At the table He took the host's place, an authority the writers say belongs to the Son of God alone.
- Blessed — The word means simply that He gave thanks to God, and He did it at a small private meal, not a public one.
- Broken — Not the Lord's Supper, but the same telling act: bread broken as the sign of His death.
- Revealed — Recognition came through that sign. He is known as the One who died and rose again, not as they had known Him before.
And their eyes were opened, and they recognised him. And he disappeared from them.
Two travellers walked the road to Emmaus beside a companion they could not place. They knew Him at last over a meal — so why did their eyes open just then, and why did He go the instant they saw Him?
They knew Him over a broken loaf. Kelly ties that detail to the one sure way of knowing Jesus.
There is only one way of knowing Jesus that can be trusted… So our Lord breaks bread with the disciples. This was not the Lord's Supper. But Jesus used that act of breaking bread with meaning, the same act the Lord's Supper keeps setting before us. In it bread is broken, and that is the sign of His death… He had blessed the bread, broken it, and was handing it to them. Just then their eyes were opened, and they recognised their risen Lord.
Darby takes it further. What they needed was not His presence in the body, but His death.
It was no longer just a question of His bodily presence as the One who had come in flesh. Redemption was necessary, and so was faith in it. We are to feed on Christ not only as a living Messiah, and not only as the One who is alive again for evermore in resurrection. We must also feed on Him as the One who died, His body broken and His blood shed in atonement… He was gone in a moment — "vanished from their sight." But He gained what He came for. They had life through His death.
They had invited Him in as a stranger. At the table the roles reverse. He takes the host's place, and their eyes open.
But if He stoops to sit at a meal with His own people, He must always take the first place. He must be supreme in every circle He enters. Let us remember this when we want His presence. So HE took the bread, and blessed and broke it and gave it to them… This simple act of our blessed Lord opened their eyes. They knew Him, and He vanished from their sight… But why did He leave so quickly? His work was done. He had found His wandering sheep, and He had restored their souls.
He goes the very moment they know Him. Hole finds the reason in another meeting that same day.
But why did He withdraw from their sight just as they had recognized Him? For the same reason, no doubt, that He had told Mary not to touch Him earlier that same day (see John 20:17). He wanted to show them from the start that resurrection had brought Him into new conditions. So their dealings with Him had to rest on a new basis.
Seeing Him with their own eyes had not made them know Him. Losing sight of Him did.
Under His teaching they had just seen that He Himself was the theme of all Scripture. Yet even while they listened, and their hearts burned as they did, they only saw Him with their natural eyes. They did not know Him. Now He vanishes from sight, and they do know Him by faith. What an exchange!
Before He revealed Himself, He had spent the road turning them back to the Scriptures. Stuart notes what He did not do.
The written Word was enough to have taught them all that had happened. He first rebuked them for being slow of heart to believe it, and then turned them to it. He would settle their faith on what God had already given. He gave them no fresh revelation. They had to stand on the written word of God. That done, He made Himself known as risen from the dead. His work with them was finished. He vanished from their sight.
Hamilton Smith reads the shortness of the visit as purpose, not loss.
So at last the Lord does come into their circumstances for a brief moment. But He comes only to lead them out of their circumstances into His own. Having made Himself known, He vanishes from their sight… But how did they know Him? Not as in the days before the cross, in their circumstances, but as the One who was dead but is alive for evermore.
The effect was immediate. Despite the miles already walked and the coming night, they turned around.
They at once retrace their steps in their earnest desire to join the little company of the Lord's people gathered together at Jerusalem. And having reached their own company they find, to their great delight, that they are in the company of the Risen Lord, and in His company there is no room for dissatisfied or disappointed hearts.
- Word first. He gave them no new revelation on the road. He settled their faith on what God had already written, and then made Himself known.
- Sign second. Their eyes open over broken bread, the sign of His death. This was not the Lord's Supper, but the act carried the same meaning.
- Place third. The invited guest takes the first place at the table. They know Him once He is supreme in the room.
- Sight withdrawn. He disappears to teach them the new ground of resurrection. From now on they hold Him by faith, not by sight.
- Circle exchanged. He steps into their world for one moment, only to lead them out of it into His.