by In the aftermath of Jesus’ crucifixion, two discouraged disciples left Jerusalem for the village of Emmaus. Their hopes had been crushed. The man they believed would redeem Israel had been executed by Roman authorities, and now they were making the seven-mile journey home, processing their grief and confusion.
As they walked and discussed recent events, a stranger joined them – Jesus himself, though they were prevented from recognizing him. When he asked what they were discussing, they stopped in their tracks, astonished that anyone in Jerusalem could be unaware of what had transpired.
“We had hoped he was the one,” they explained, their words heavy with disappointment. They recounted how Jesus of Nazareth, a prophet mighty in word and deed, had been handed over by their religious leaders and crucified. They even mentioned reports from some women in their group who had found his tomb empty that morning, but this news had only added to their confusion.
The stranger then did something remarkable: beginning with Moses and the Prophets, he explained how all of Scripture pointed to the Messiah’s necessary suffering before entering his glory. This divine Bible study continued as they walked, their hearts burning within them as he opened the Scriptures.
When they reached Emmaus, they urged their companion to stay for dinner. As they reclined at the table, the stranger took bread, blessed it, broke it, and gave it to them. In that familiar action – taking, blessing, breaking, and giving – their eyes were opened. They recognized Jesus, and in that moment, he vanished from their sight.
This pattern of Jesus’ actions at the table wasn’t coincidental. Throughout Luke’s Gospel, we see Jesus sharing meals with people from all walks of life. These weren’t just casual dining experiences; they were moments of transformation where disciples were made and lives were changed. The table was where Jesus was heard most intimately, where his presence was felt most deeply.
The breaking of bread carries special significance. Just as the bread must be broken to be shared, Jesus’ body had to be broken on the cross before the glory of resurrection could come. This pattern of suffering followed by glory runs throughout Scripture and resonates with our deepest understanding of meaningful stories. We recognize that the most powerful transformations often come through difficulty.
The disciples’ response to recognizing Jesus was immediate. Despite the late hour, they rushed back to Jerusalem to share the news with the others. Their despair had turned to joy, their hopelessness to victory, their confusion to assurance. The encounter with the risen Christ had transformed their retreat into renewed engagement with their faith community.
This story reminds us that Jesus reveals himself in life’s ordinary moments. He’s present not just in mountain-top experiences or dramatic spiritual encounters, but in everyday activities like sharing meals, washing dishes, or walking down the road. At his table, we find both hope and assurance that our current struggles don’t have the final word.
The resurrection of Jesus guarantees that suffering will not triumph. We live in the “already but not yet” – we may still face trials, but we face them with the assurance that Jesus has overcome. His final word is life, love, and resurrection.
When we gather around tables today, whether for a formal communion service or a simple shared meal, we participate in this ancient pattern of fellowship. In these moments, Jesus continues to make himself known, turning our ordinary meals into sacred encounters with the risen Lord.
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Daniel N. Lee 