Luke 24:30–31

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.

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 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.

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!

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.

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.

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."

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."

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.