The one who journeys with us

From my book No Ordinary Man 2, a meditation recalling the joy of the two disciples on the Emmaus road as they came to realise that Jesus was alive and with them: the one who journeys with us.

Reading
As they came near the village to which they were going, he walked ahead as if he were going on. But they urged him strongly, saying, ‘Stay with us, because it is almost evening and the day is now nearly over.’ So he went in to stay with them. When he was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened, and they recognised him; and he vanished from their sight. They said to each other, ‘Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?’ That same hour they got up and returned to Jerusalem; and they found the eleven and their companions gathered together. They were saying, ‘The Lord has risen indeed, and he has appeared to Simon!’ Then they told what had happened on the road, and how he had been made known to them in the breaking of the bread. Luke 24:28-35 (NRSV)

The meditation of Cleopas
We met him, there on the Emmaus road,
and still we didn’t understand –
can you believe that?
Despite the testimony of the women and the apostles,
the empty tomb,
the vision of angels,
still we couldn’t take it in!
I suppose we’d made up our minds that it was finished,
come to terms with the fact that our hopes had been dashed,
and we just couldn’t bring ourselves to think any different
for fear of yet more disappointment,
yet more broken dreams.
Condemn us, if you like,
but remember this:
we’d seen him hanging there on the cross,
contorted in agony,
we’d watched in desolation as he drew his final breath,
and we’d been there, tears streaming from our eyes,
as they cut him down and laid him in the tomb.
You don’t forget that in a hurry, I can tell you.
So when this stranger appeared out of the blue
we thought nothing of it –
why should we? –
the possibility of him being Jesus was the last thing on our minds.
Even when he interpreted the scriptures for us,
explaining why the Messiah had to suffer and die,
still we didn’t suspect anything –
even though our hearts burned within us with inexplicable joy.
But when we sat together at table,
and he took bread and broke it,
then even we couldn’t miss it,
the extraordinary, incredible truth –
it was Jesus,
Christ crucified and risen,
there by our sides!
We’d thought the adventure was over,
but it had only just begun.
We’d thought there was nothing left to us but memories,
but suddenly the future beckoned, rich with promise.
The night had ended,
a new day was dawning,
life was beginning again –
and we marvelled at the sheer wonder of his grace,
for, of course, we didn’t meet him that day,
despite what we’d thought;
he met us!

Prayer
Lord Jesus Christ,
you speak your word to us
as you spoke it to the Apostles long ago:
‘Come, follow me.’
You call us as you have called so many over the years:
‘Come to me, all you that are weary
and are carrying heavy burdens,
and I will give you rest.’
You offer us, as you offer all your people,
refreshment for our souls:
‘Let anyone who is thirsty come to me,
and let the one who believes in me drink.’
Lord, we thank you for that invitation,
and gladly we respond.
But, more than that, we thank you
for the fact that before anyone comes to you,
you come first to them.
You came to Peter, James and John by the lakeside;
to the hungry, the sick and the outcasts in the streets of Galilee;
to Mary Magdalene weeping in the garden;
to two weary disciples walking the Emmaus road;
to the Apostles trembling behind locked doors;
to Saul breathing murder on the road to Damascus;
and so to countless others since.
Always it is you who makes the first approach,
calling your people to faith,
and still you come through your Spirit to meet with us.
Open our eyes to your presence
and lead us forward in your service
until that day when, with all your people,
we enter your kingdom and meet with you face to face.
Amen.