April 20, 2026
"Walk it off," was a grandpa's advice, everytime his grandkids got physically hurt. Walking continues to be a way of transportation and also a way to process emotional pain like disappointment and painful memories. Things get interesting when strangers join your walk asking questions about things they are supposed to know.
The Road to Emmaus is the last story of Easter tide (time) where we join people walking through the road of deep dissapointment, confusion and traumatic memory. The walking pilgrims are Cleopas, and likely his wife, who had witnessed the unjust execution of their powerful leader Jesus. Witnessing an execution or the death of someone deeply close to you is something that stays with you. When the death is unfair, untimely and deeply painful, then that memory weighs heavy in your heart, body and mind. You walk with your face downcast, as our two people on the road to Emmaus (Lk 24:17). Sometimes, on the road of disspointment people join your walk temporarely asking question that add to your confusion, you wonder: How could you not know that? "“Are you the only one ... who does not know the things that have happened there in these days?” (Lk 24:18). That is the answer that Jesus gets to his questions: "what are you talking about? what happened?" (Lk 24:17,19).
Despite the shock that Jesus' questions stirred in these depressed walkers, they patiently retell the story to the apparently ignorant stranger that joined them. Yet, it was the risen Jesus, himself who they could not recognize. In Pete Greig's words due to: "a well-documented condition known as 'inattentional blindness' in which our brains can fail to perceive a thing if it contradicts our prior assumptions and expectations." (Lectio365)
It is striking how healing it can be to tell our whole painful story to someone who knows nothing about it—as if speaking to a complete stranger. Cleopas and his companion did just that on the road. Like a master listener Jesus provided them with historical perspective and interpreted facts under fresh light. What a treat for Cleopas and his companion. Of course they had to extend hospitality to this stranger—who wouldn’t? Had they not invited Jesus, they would not have known who he was. What unfolded was more than therapeutic; it became a revelation of Life itself. They came to recognize Jesus in the breaking of the bread at their table. As Theology Professor Don Saliers used to say, “Jesus loved meals so much, he became one.” It was through his broken body that Cleopas and his companion recognized him—much like Thomas the Apostle, who touched the wounded body of the risen Christ—his pierced hands and side—and came to believe (Jn 20:26-29). When we come close to brokenness that has been made new, we know that Christ is alive, and our spirits are nourished.
In the road to Emmaus story, Jesus enters the emotional distress of the two pilgrims, stepping into their “boat” of sorrow while remaining a stranger to them until the very end. This stands in contrast to an earlier time on the Sea of Galilee, when his friends were in a physically distressed boat: there, Jesus reveals himself first then gets into the boat, calms the storm, and fills their hearts with awe (Matthew 8). Could this difference in the timing of his self-revelation be connected to the reality of his resurrection? Could it be that when the Emmaus couple reached home after their trip to Jerusalem they didn't have enough food at home to offer to Jesus yet he multiplied the little bread they had when he broke it and that's why they recognized him?
If you are walking a road of deep dissapointment, consider answering questions patiently and sharing your story, and maybe even extend hospitality, you may discover you are not walking alone and new things may be revelaed to you.
"Oh my soul, be prepared for the coming of the Stranger. Be prepared for him [or her] who knows how to ask questons." - T. S. Eliot (*)