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Luke · 3 min read
It is the afternoon of the first day of the week. Two disciples — one named Cleopas, the other unnamed — are walking from Jerusalem to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles away. They are talking about everything that has happened, and their faces are downcast.
A stranger joins them on the road and asks what they are talking about. They stop, looking sad. Cleopas asks: are you the only visitor to Jerusalem who does not know what has happened? The stranger asks: what things?
They tell him everything — Jesus of Nazareth, a prophet mighty in deed and word, how the chief priests and rulers handed him over to be crucified, how they had hoped he was the one to redeem Israel, how it is now the third day since all this happened, how some women from their group found the tomb empty and said they had seen a vision of angels who said he was alive, how others went to the tomb and found it empty.
The stranger answers: O foolish ones, and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken! Was it not necessary that the Christ should suffer these things and enter into his glory? And beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interprets to them in all the scriptures the things concerning himself.
They reach the village. He acts as if he is going further. They urge him to stay — the day is almost over. He comes in and reclines with them. He takes the bread, blesses it, breaks it, and gives it to them. Their eyes are opened. They recognize him. He vanishes from their sight.
They say to each other: Were not our hearts burning within us while he talked to us on the road, while he opened the scriptures to us? They get up that same hour and return to Jerusalem — seven miles back in the dark — to tell the others.
The story is Luke's most beautiful resurrection narrative: recognition through interpretation and then through a meal, the stranger becoming known in the breaking of bread.
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