Will you read with me a familiar portion of the Word of God in the twenty-fourth chapter of the Gospel by Luke? Luke 24:13-31.
And behold, two of them were going that very day to a village named Emmaus, which was threescore furlongs from Jerusalem.
And they communed with each other of all these things which had happened.
And it came to pass, while they communed and questioned together, that Jesus Himself drew near, and went with them.
But their eyes were holden that they should not know Him.
And He said unto them, What communications are these that ye have one with another, as ye walk?
And they stood still, looking sad.
And one of them, named Cleopas, answering said unto Him, Dost Thou alone sojourn in Jerusalem, and knowest not the things which are come to pass there in these days?
And He said unto them, What things?
And they said unto Him, The things concerning Jesus of Nazareth, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people:
And how the chief priests and our rulers delivered Him up to be condemned to death, and crucified Him.
But we hoped that it was He which should redeem Israel. Yea, and besides all this, it is now the third day since these things came to pass.
Moreover certain women of our company amazed us, having been early at the tomb;
And when they found not His body, they came, saying, that they had also seen a vision of angels, who said that He was alive.
And certain of them that were with us went to the tomb, and found it even so as the women had said: but Him they saw not.
And He said unto them, O foolish men, and slow of heart to believe in all that the prophets have spoken!
Behooved it not the Christ to suffer these things, and to enter into His glory?
And beginning from Moses and from all the prophets, He interpreted to them in all the Scriptures the things concerning Himself.
And they drew nigh unto the village, whither they were going: and He made as though He would go further.
And they constrained Him, saying, Abide with us; for it is toward evening, and the day is now far spent. And He went in to abide with them.
And it came to pass, when He had sat down with them to meat, He took the bread and blessed it; and breaking it He gave to them.
And their eyes were opened, and they knew Him; and He vanished out of their sight.
And they said one to another, Was not our heart burning within us, while He spake to us in the way, while He opened to us the Scriptures?
And they rose up that very hour, and returned to Jerusalem, and found the eleven gathered together, and them that were with them,
Saying, The Lord is risen indeed, and hath appeared to Simon.
I have added one or two verses to what I stipulated, but I think they were a necessary addition.
We have proceeded much too far in our present meditation to retrace our steps. All that we can say at this point is that we are occupied in these days, so far, with the resurrection of the Lord Jesus as having been made the horizon of a new creation order.
We have founded this on the definite Scripture, Romans 1:4, which says that He was declared to be the Son of God with power by the resurrection from the dead. Within that horizon of resurrection, we have been noting some of the features and characteristics of this new order which resurrection has inaugurated and established.
This afternoon we began to look at some of the significant interviews, or occurrences, in the appearances of the Lord Jesus with people. We took the first one in the order of resurrection appearances and saw something of the tremendous significance of Mary Magdalene being the first one to whom He appeared.
We did not exhaust it, and one feels very strongly tempted to return to say more. But I think we must leave it at this time and go on to this next occasion of which we have read in Luke 24: the event on the road to Emmaus.
The story of the Emmaus road could very rightly and easily be described as the story of how seven and a half miles of ordinary country road were transformed into the road to heaven.
That is exactly the thing that the risen Lord can do: change anything from the ordinary to the extraordinary, and from the commonplace to that which is certainly not common—the glory of heaven.
Now, these two seem to have been two of those referred to in Luke 24:9: “They returned from the tomb, and told all these things to the eleven, and to all the rest.” Out of that “all the rest,” these two were going that very day to a village named Emmaus.
Probably that is where they lived. Their home was in Emmaus. At some time in their history, somewhere, they had come into disciple relationship with the Lord Jesus. Exactly how that came about we are not told.
But we can assume that there was a day when they left their home in Emmaus and took that journey of seven and a half miles to Jerusalem. Probably it was there, or it may have been further afield, that they came into touch with Him, under His voice and influence.
It was an eventful journey on the Emmaus road when they left home at that time. Probably they never knew what that journey was going to lead to in their lives.
Then there followed the period of accompanying with Him: their growing estimate of Him, and their hopes centred in Him, growing toward this final conclusion which comes out here: “A prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people.”
That conclusion had been growing upon them, and with it their hope had been growing in them: “We hoped that it was He which should redeem Israel.” That had developed in them through their time of accompanying with Him.
Then the day arrived. The past had crept up on their horizon, coloured by darker clouds accumulating and foretelling their coming. Those dark clouds gathered over their heads. The rumblings of the storm became more and more audible.
Then it broke—broke upon them. He was carried off and crucified. It broke upon them and desolated their hearts, crushed their hopes, and shook their faith to its very roots.
The cloud came into their sky. It was a day of eclipse, bewilderment, confusion, paralysis, and numbness. For two days they had hidden in Jerusalem, speaking only in quiet voices with one another.
The third day broke. Strange rumours were abroad: women had reported that they had been to the tomb and had seen a vision of angels, who said that Jesus was alive. But apparently, while this had of course stirred them, it had not really been helpful.
Perhaps, with others of whom it was said that they believed them not, it sounded to them as idle tales. They may have said, “Well, these dear women, friends both of ours, have been under a terrible strain. They are seeing things; they are imagining things. We cannot build substantially upon rumours of that kind. Everything is far too uncertain, unsubstantial.”
“Let us go home. Let us put seven miles between ourselves and all this, get away, and see if we can reconstruct life out of ruins in some way.”
So they turned their backs on Jerusalem, their faces toward their little home in Emmaus, and started on their journey. As they went, so obsessed with it all, they could not help talking. They just had to go over it again and again, picking up this point and that point. In a sad spirit, a melancholy spirit, they walked and they talked.
Then a stranger caught up with them, drew alongside, and said, “My friends, you seem to be very unhappy. Your voices sound very sad. You look like men who have been through some great trouble. What is it all about? Why are you so sad, and why do you talk in this unhappy way?”
They stood still. Then, looking at Him, they said, in effect, “Are You only a visitor to Jerusalem? Are You not aware of all that has been happening?”
And He said, “What things?”
They said, “The things concerning Jesus of Nazareth, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people. We had hoped that it was He that should redeem Israel. Our rulers and chief priests delivered Him up, condemned Him to death, and crucified Him.”
“Is that all? Well, there is this further matter: some of our womenfolk, who had been early at the tomb, came saying they had seen a vision of angels—angels who said that He was alive.”
He looked at them with sympathy, and yet with something very akin to a rebuke. He said, “O foolish men, how slow of heart you are to believe all that the prophets have spoken.”
Turning back to the first five books of the Bible, He worked His way through them. Then, having gone through that, He went into all the prophets. In all the Scriptures—that is, the Old Testament—He showed them the things concerning Himself: how the Christ ought to have suffered and entered into His glory.
He said, as it were, “Let us go on. I am going your way.” And He continued His unfolding of the Scriptures.
The light began to come back into their eyes, the shadows to leave their faces, and the heaviness to lift from their hearts, until they arrived at their home in Emmaus. They said, “Do not go on. The day is far spent. Come in; spend the night with us.”
And He went in. You know the rest, what happened.
What a way of describing it: “Did not our heart burn within us, as He talked with us in the way and opened to us the Scriptures?” Those embers which had well-nigh died out were rekindled; the flame revived; the heart of hope raised. They had found heaven.
Now, there are, of course, a lot of incidentally helpful things in this story. Such as this: the risen Lord knows just where we are. The risen Lord knows just how we are. The Lord knows exactly what we need. And the risen Lord Himself is the answer to it all.
The risen Lord means new life for the darkened soul, new hope for the despairing, new motive for living, new energy to go on the way, and a new testimony.
You can make as much of that as you like. But when we have said all that, dear friends, we have not touched the heart of this event.
Now note: these men knew the Scriptures. That, of course, is assumed. What would have been the point of referring to Moses—which is a comprehensive term for all that came from the pen of Moses, those books which comprise what we call the Pentateuch—if they did not know anything about them?
They knew the prophets. They knew the Bible which existed at that time. Yes, they knew it was good.
Further, these men had a knowledge of Jesus after the natural order, and a fairly high estimate of Him. They had heard His teaching—much of it, if not all—and they had seen His works, many if not all. They had had that kind of association and relationship with Him, and this represented in them a certain gratefulness.
But when the day of crisis arose, it was of no value to them. It did not stand the strain. They collapsed in the day of the ordeal, with all that background.
That is terrible to say, but it is true. They just went to pieces when they were put to it, although they had all that behind them. It did not stand the test in the day of the ordeal.
There is a very solemn message in that. We are not exaggerating; we are not imagining. If we have been a little poetic in describing the journey, there is nothing poetic about this. This is real, dramatic fact.
It is possible to have the Bible and know it; to have a knowledge of Jesus, His teaching, and His works; even to have seen something of what He is doing in the world; to have had a kind of association with Him over a more or less extended period of time—and then, when actually put to it, to go to pieces.
It is a terrible possibility. We should all lay it to heart. That, of course, is not the end of the story, but we must note it because it is true.
Now then, why was it? How is it that things can be like that? These two are not peculiar in this matter. This is only a sample of what has happened again and again, is happening today, and will happen yet many times among people who have the Bible and more or less know it, and who have all these things.
How is it possible? Well, of course, as we were saying this afternoon, there was a restraint in themselves, and He was straitened in them. You remember He said earlier to His disciples:
I have yet many things to say unto you, but ye cannot bear them now.
In the consciousness of how much He had to give and could not give, He cried:
I have a baptism to be baptized with; and how am I straitened till it be accomplished!
All that was released on the Emmaus road. That pent-upness was released, and the things that He had said, “I have many things to say unto you, but cannot say them,” He was now saying.
Have you ever asked, “What was it that Jesus wanted to say and said He could not say?” “I have many things to say unto you, but ye cannot bear them now.” What was it? All this: all the Scriptures concerning Himself, concerning His passion, concerning His resurrection—now released.
But why? Here is the heart of the message: there is an all-governing truth in the matter of coming into a position where everything is alive, where everything is under an open heaven, where everything is released from its weakness and escapes its limitation.
There is an all-governing law. What is it? Before you can come there, you have got to go into such a deep experience of travail and anguish that what is there becomes to you a matter of life or death.
Before, they listened and perhaps said, “Is this not wonderful? Is it not beautiful? Is it not grand?” They had a natural appreciation of it all, and of Him, but they did not get beyond that.
Then came the tragedy. They had been plunged into His baptism of passion, plunged into these deep, dark waters of heart distress. They had come to the place where the cry of their heart was, “Oh, I must have a new knowledge of Him or I die. I am done. It is the end of everything if I do not know Him in a new way.”
And, dear friends, believe me, that is the only way to true knowledge of Christ.
You may have the Bible and have Bible teaching for years. You may know all about Jesus of Nazareth and have had an association with Him. You may have had any amount of teaching. You may have seen something of what God is doing, and yet, when you are really put to it, you go to pieces.
What is the way of salvation from such a collapse? This very fact: you are baptized into a situation, a state of things, where you go down before God saying, “Oh Lord, unless You do a new thing that has never been done before, unless You give me a new revelation of Yourself that I have never had before, unless I am brought into a new position that I have never been in before, I am finished. I die.”
That is the kind of cry that draws the risen Saviour alongside. There, in the heart, is the answer to that cry.
You know, we take all our teaching too cheaply. We have all our knowledge too easily. We take so much for granted.
Indeed, dear friends, the grievous thing is that so many can just take it or leave it, be there or not be there. “Well, if the Lord is there, if the Lord’s Word is there, it does not matter. We need not bother ourselves or take the trouble to be there.”
Christianity has become far too cheap, and the Lord is not going to have that sort of thing.
If we are going to be saved from this inevitable crash—the crash of our whole Christianity—the only thing is to be put through the dark, deep waters of suffering, trials, adversity, disappointment, and disillusionment—anything you like—until we cry, “Oh God, I will die unless You do some new thing in my life.”
People who have been that way, you know, come into the open heaven and come into the full meaning that is in Christ risen. That is what is here in this story.
They said, “Let us get away from it all. Let us go from this. Everything is in dissolution. Everything has broken down. Everything is—God knows the sorrow of our hearts over this.”
They walked; they talked; they were sad. It seems necessary for the Lord to bring us to that state of utter sadness over the situation before He can do anything.
People who really do travail in disappointment, in anguish, in real sorrow because of this particular thing, are different from people who can just take it or leave it, be there or not be there, seemingly altogether unwilling to share the travailing of those who are travailing.
But our point is this: these two men were not taking it like that. They were not taking it cheaply. They walked and were sad about it all.
The Lord knew. He knew their hearts. For such, He took the journey and joined Himself to them, transforming the ordinary country road into the heavenly way.
It is not enough to possess objective knowledge in ears or eyes. It is not enough even to have some pain because our ideas and ambitions have suffered a setback.
What we must have is an experience, on the one side, of despair unless the Lord does a new thing; and, on the other side, the experience of the reality of His resurrection in our own life. That is what we must get.
We just must have an open heaven, which means we must have the Lord in a new way. I was going to say, in keeping with this account, we must have a new Lord. Or, more accurately, they got a new Lord. It was the same Lord who came to them through the Scriptures; then their eyes were opened, and they knew Him. This was a new Lord for them.
We must have a new Lord in that sense. We must have a new Bible, so that this Bible thrills and burns with new meaning. We must have a new anointing of the Spirit, and we must have a new commission for life. These are the things that came to them. We must have these.
Dear friends, if I were to use the phrase, “identification with Christ in death and burial and resurrection,” you people here, for the most part, would say, “We have heard that before. We know all that. There is nothing in that for us.” Now, that is for us, so God have mercy upon us.
Whether you use that phraseology or not, the meaning of union with Christ in resurrection is something of immense consequence to us now and in every hour of crisis.
For you and I are going to have crisis upon crisis if we live here long enough. There will be crises in which, “My Lord, I must know You as I have never known You before. I must know Your risen life as I have never known it before. I must know the power of Your resurrection as I have never known it before.”
It is going to be like that to the end, till the end. Only as it is like that shall we get through to the end and triumph at last.
But when I have said all that—when I have emphasized the necessity, the demand, the challenge, and the terrible possibility—let us come back to this: He did come to them when they were in that need.
He did draw alongside in that dark and cloudy day. He did join Himself with them in the hour of their despair. And He will. He does. He will continue to do that if we take this whole matter seriously enough.
Before Him we must say it with real meaning. God knows our hearts. He will search through and through like an open book. He knows whether our despondency and misery are merely because we have been put back and disappointed, or whether it is because our hearts are focused upon Him and pre-eminently concerned for His glory and His honour.
Our disappointment must be disappointment because of all that we had set our hearts upon for Him—for Him. He knows the nature of our travail. But if it is true, genuine spiritual sorrow, He will come alongside and do the great thing.
Now, I have not just given you teaching, dear friends. I have not, believe me. This is true spiritual experience. Some of you know it in measure. Some of us know this way.
But, oh, may I say to you: beware of regarding your great inheritance, or heritage, more lightly than you should. I mean all that the Lord has made available to you and set before you—not here, but in His Son.
All that Christ in resurrection is meant to be to us is a tremendous heritage. Do not regard it lightly, for you are going to need it in a day of crisis, a day of real testing. Nothing willy-nilly, take it or leave it, does not matter, God forgive me.
This story has a heart. You will begin to see that these are not, as we said this afternoon, just stories of people whom Christ met after His resurrection, gathered up into an account of different persons. No, no; there is a heart to every one.
It is the heart of an eternal secret of spiritual life and spiritual things. The Lord open our hearts and make us people like this.
We are in very solemn days, very solemn days. As we have said before, a great fear is creeping over this world. We have been across the United States, and there is an atmosphere of tension and fear.
Go to a place, a city like Los Angeles, and journey along those marvellous highways out into the suburbs. There are numbers of houses for sale. I said to the brother who was driving, “What does this mean in a place like this?”
Well, for everything that a state like California can give, people are moving right away for fear of what is coming. They are getting right out as far away as they can get because they are afraid to stay.
Well, all right, perhaps that is not the whole story. I do not want to be a scaremonger by any means. But, dear friends, we are living in very critical days in the history of this world.
Whether it comes from the outside, or whether it is of a spiritual nature alone, we are all going to be very much put to it as to what we have that will carry us through to the end.
Just what have we got, and how much of what we have is of the kind that is going to sustain us in the day of adversity? That is the big question that arises tonight for us all.
If I sound serious and solemn, well, this is a solemn matter. But I keep on the other side: “Behooved it not the Christ to have suffered these things, and to enter into His glory?” The other side, through the suffering, is the glory.
It will be that for us if what we have has come to us in its real and essential value and worth, and not as something cheap which we take for granted.
The Lord.