The Road to Emmaus: On the Road from Disappointment to Hope (Luke 24:13-35)

“O Lord my God, when the storm is loud, and the night is dark, and the soul is sad, and the heart oppressed; then, as a weary traveler, may I look to you; and beholding the light of your love, may it bear me on, until I learn to sing your song in the night. Amen.” From Little Book of Prayers by George Dawson.

Job 13:15a "Though He slay me, I will hope in Him." (NASU)

Luke 24:21 "But we were hoping that it was He who was going to redeem Israel. Indeed, besides all this, it is the third day since these things happened." (NASU)

The Emmaus Road story is a story of shattering and restoration, or disappointment and hope. Anyone who has ever been shattered can find themselves in this story. Anyone who has ever experienced restoration can find themselves in this story as well. And those who find themselves in that in between place, between shattering and restoration, then this story is for them as well. I call my version “on the road from disappointment to hope.” On the road from disappointment to hope we have to remember that we are on a journey. It is not a short road, but neither is it an easy one. There will be an end, but we must walk the road first. 

Sometimes in the midst of the trials and burdens of life, we lose sight of our anchor. We feel tossed and thrown as on a wild and restless sea. Our emotions tell us that things will never be good, all will be despair and loss. Our hope seems shipwrecked, our desire to go on in life sinks into depression. We see nothing good, only evil all around us. Our enemies (both physical and spiritual) seem to have the upper hand, they seem to be winning the day. Things are just not working out the way we expected! The victory we felt sure would come has not yet manifested itself, and we feel ourselves sinking ever deeper into a pit in which we cannot get the proper traction to climb. The clock is ticking down, our hope is gone, our day is over, and Christ has not come.

Like the disciples on the road to Emmaus in Luke 24, we had hoped that Jesus would be the one who would rescue us. We had fervently prayed that maybe, just maybe, today would be the day when we would “live happily ever after” and find our dreams coming true. We shake our heads and go out for a walk. Maybe some fresh air and a quick walk will clear out the cob webs in our minds (Luke 24:13-15). Still, the topic of our recent failure hangs like a cloud over our heads, raining down doubt and fear.

Leaving Jerusalem represents leaving behind dreams and expectations. Jerusalem was a place of pain, sorrow, and loss; a place of death, unmet expectations, and disappointment. It’s a place where our lives were shattered —these travelers on the road to Emmaus were disappointed due to events in Jerusalem, so they headed home. Home, where hopes and dreams are first discovered. Home! Where we could get some R&R away from the issues of Jerusalem. Our travelers left the city of “peace” (Jerusalem) to go find some rest or some hope. They left Jerusalem and headed to Emmaus.

They chat quietly together, commiserating a bit in their sorrow, in their recent loss. They try to remember all the "good reasons" they came to this time--like the first time they heard the story of Jesus, or the first time they met him, or even when they experienced firsthand some of his mighty works. Still, sorrow clings to their souls like a wet coat in a sudden thunderstorm. They can't get rid of the sense of sadness, it drenches them and sticks to them. They wonder why they even brought the subject up and continue to make the journey in silence. Maybe time alone with our thoughts will help.

Suddenly, a stranger approaches (Luke 24:16-24). He seems rather ignorant of their experiences, and besides that he has a fairly sunny disposition. He is definitely someone they want to avoid at this moment. No pie in the sky false hope will satisfy. They fear that he will say something like, “Cheer up! Keep a stiff upper lip! Things will work out in the end!” They try to avoid the stranger, yet he resolutely comes their  direction. He seems determined to interrupt their brooding, despair, and disappointment. He is on a mission, and they seem to be his primary targets. Maybe they try to ignore him, but then he speaks.

“So, what’s going on? Why the sad face?” he inquires. Out of pure human kindness they try to explain their pain and disappointment in as brief a manner as possible. They do not want to burden strangers with their “little” disappointments, after all. Have you ever noticed that some of the saddest words in our language begin with the letter “d”? For example, disappointment, disillusionment, defeat, death. The words of Cleopas and his companion to Jesus on the way to Emmaus represent some of these. Although they had left the demoralized and confused group of disciples, the events of Jesus’ crucifixion were still fresh in their memories. They left their disappointed community and continued walking in disappointment. We can understand their confusion, can’t we?

On the road from disappointment to hope we will find some of our expectations sometimes do not pan out as we expected. We may find ourselves disappointed, and we may long to return to another place where we felt safe. In our story Cleopas and his traveling companion chose Emmaus. Their entire world had come apart. They were discussing their situation (misery loves company, no?), and Jesus joins them in their walk and talk. We find out that they didn’t recognize Jesus or that they were prevented from recognizing him. God is often there when we aren’t even aware. Sometimes he sneaks in on our journey and joins our conversation, but he doesn’t always warn us in advance (Hebrews 13—show hospitality to strangers, you may entertain angels unawares).

The unrecognized Messiah asks them about their “dispute” or conversation. It must have been a lively conversation they were having. Perhaps they were trying to convince each other on the truth of their view? We may never know. They were discussing what had happened to Jesus and such, and they were none too happy about it. Jesus asks them the topic of their conversation, and with surprise they ask him if he’d been hiding under a rock the last few days (which, in reality, he kind of had been . . . let the hearer hear).

They are confused companions now confronted with a the mysterious stranger—“Are you a stranger?” they inquire.  Yet he knew better than anyone the experiences of the past few weeks! Perhaps they had entertained a view of Messiah that included a militant and forceful triumph of their enemies. They say, “But we had hoped!” They outlined for Jesus the recent events that happened to him. Their dreams were destroyed when Jesus died, and the report from the women didn’t really help much. The reports that Christ’s tomb was empty had only confused the disciples more. Their entire world had come apart. They were concerned, maybe even a little afraid. So they were headed home to the comfort of Emmaus (which may mean “hot baths”) to get over their bad experiences and hopeless feeling.

Human hope can be fragile, and when it withers it’s difficult to revive. Have you ever experienced such hopelessness? There was no way out… no matter what was tried… there was nothing anyone could do to change the situation…“The cancer has spread too far.” “My spouse has left me for another partner.” “I feel so stuck in my job.” “I’ve given up. Nothing will ever change with the church.” Hopelessness is hard to cure. 

And so, in our heart-break, like the Emmaus disciples, we may put up a wall of hopelessness around us, and we become trapped in our misery. "We had hoped . . . "  “We had hoped…” Hope seems to be gone, and our expectations have dwindled to little or nothing. Before there were sky high dreams of what God would do, now they are replaced by disappointment. We head home to Emmaus, to a place where we might find comfort. But will it work?

On the road from disappointment to hope we often find ourselves befriending two kinds of people—people who agree with us about how bad things are, and people who can see through the fog and explain how things really are. These two men are leaving disappointment and heading home to comfort and hopefully some hope. Emmaus represents hope/home. They are going “home”, but they are bringing a visitor with them. 

Heading towards Emmaus represents a restoration of hope or an attempt to return “home” to comfort, but the results aren’t always what we expect—on the road from disappointment to hope we often find ourselves instructed by Jesus himself, but we may not be aware of it. We may entertain strangers who are God sent messengers to encourage us, but we may not see it at first. (Luke 24:25-29)

The stranger hears their story and stands tall. Looking at them he says boldly, “Foolish ones, slow of heart to believe what God has said!” The force of his accusation no doubt caught them off guard. How dare this stranger tell them that? How dare he interject his thoughts into their moment of pain, their sorrow? Just who does he think he is to interrupt their musings with his “pollyanna” announcement? Maybe they even looked at him with disdain and wondered that he likely has nothing of real value to offer.

Then, he begins to speak again. Starting with the beginning of their story and bringing them pretty much up to date he tells us things they knew but somehow in anguish had forgotten. As he speaks, their hearts get a bit lighter. They can literally feel a burning inside that slowly (painfully slowly) begins to purify their thoughts and hearts. His words seem to dry the wet sorrow drenching them. Like sunshine after a thunderstorm, they begin to feel a bit of relief. Spring may yet come!

Jesus joins them. Jesus often joins us on our journey from disappointment to hope… he spends time with us… sometimes as an unrecognized stranger… Jesus enters our pain, and allows us to share our story of disappointment. The Emmaus travelers tell the stranger what they thought the man of Galilee was all about, but Jesus unpacks for them the full mystery of God’s plan of salvation. He fills their broken hearts with a lesson in faith and hope. He begins with the idea of suffering.

The necessity of suffering: that’s the one thing the travelers hadn’t factored in…Like many of us, the disciples may have expected a Messiah who would rule with power and crush our enemies and establish God’s Kingdom once and for all (hopefully with us in charge with him!). They could not conceive of a suffering Messiah who would die on a cross. That was not an option!

The needed Scriptures: Jesus opened the scriptures to them and He wants to do the same for us. Our role is to be a learner. We are to listen to His voice above all others. What did Jesus share? The OT story about Messiah and his sufferings seems likely. We don’t know the particulars, but we are made aware that when we are disappointed we need to return to what God has said. Maybe Jesus shared with them Psalm 22, Isaiah 53:4-6?

The neighborly invite: It was too dangerous to travel at night, so they invite the stranger to stay with them and have a meal. Jesus obliged, but he won’t stay long as we will see. Sometimes Jesus consents to stay with us, but we can’t expect to be able to dictate terms to him about his time. He will come in if invited, but we are not his bosses. He is Lord, and in our next section we will see that he plays the role of host in the meal. Jesus determines how he will interact with us, we do not get to tell him how that will be.

As he prays, they realize his true identity. He is Jesus, their Lord, the one who was beaten brutally, was painfully crucified, who died with the full weight of sin upon his broken and bruised body. He has been there all along, listening to them, sympathizing (or is it empathizing?) with their pain and anguish. He has been waiting to comfort them with his presence. He loves in this way, even when he seems silent.

They beg him to stay. Oh, the situations of our life haven’t changed dramatically. They still have problems, and those problems seem just as depressing and burdensome as before. The difference is that they have Jesus in the house, and the light of his love gives courage to press on, he becomes an anchor for our souls. Why? Simply stated—“Nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Through him and his love we may not have better situations or circumstances, but we can still be “more than conquerors through him who loved us” in the trials we share as his joint heirs. How? Talk to him. Let him talk. Trust his character. He is faithful even when we are faithless. We genuinely matter to him. He says, "Keep pressing on, I have not forsaken you. I love you."

On the road from disappointment to hope we sometimes find ourselves entertaining God as a stranger, and his presence may speak to us in ways that help us hope again. We may (like the Emmaus road travelers) even find ourselves moved by God to return to Jerusalem (the place of disappointment)—to go back to our faith community and give a testimony to the Lord’s goodness (the man with the legion of demons, the lepers healed, etc.). They return to Jerusalem, but we get ahead of ourselves. There is a meal, a revelation, and a restoration in verses 30-35. This leads to a return to Jerusalem.

As we walk our soggy paths of life, we should pause and wait for the Lord. Let him catch up to us in our musings. Listen to his words (even the ones that gently rebuke). Get in his presence, let him pray for us  and with us. Let his words and actions encourage and empower. Remember, he walks with us whether we acknowledge him or not. 

Their return to Jerusalem shows a restoration of hope and passion—on the road from disappointment to hope we may find ourselves unexpectedly hosting the Lord in our midst (Luke 24:30-35). He may set our hearts on fire, and we may find our passion renewed. The key is listening to God’s Word—Jesus and Scripture.

Broken bread and opened eyes: Jesus broke the bread, and they recognized him (did they see his nail scarred hands for the first time on this trip?). Jesus wasn’t just giving them bread, he was giving them back themselves. This was their restoration. When Jesus broke the bread something in them broke open. With that breaking open their lives were being put back together. Despite how it feels, brokenness is not an ending and neither is disappointment. There is more to it than we often see or know. It is not just brokenness or shattering, it is a breaking open to new life, to new way of seeing, to new recognition, to community, welcome, hospitality, and love.

But Jesus doesn’t stay long. Don’t we understand that? Jesus often shows up in the hard times or in the good times, but he never seems to stay as long as we’d like. Like the mount of transfiguration, we want to camp there. Jesus has to move on.

Burning hearts and renewed passion: Finally recognizing that this stranger is the risen Jesus they travel back to Jerusalem in a hurry. If they were meandering and taking their time to get to Emmaus, now they are in a hurry. They return to Jerusalem with their hope and passion renewed. Hope has a powerful effect on us. It transforms ordinary people, like the Emmaus Disciples… like us… into passionate witnesses of the risen Lord!

To move from disappointment to hope, we must first find ourselves in the presence of Jesus. We need to slow down, to take time to listen to him and his instruction. We need to be receptive of the ways he brings instruction to hope into our lives.

Jesus is with us (even if we don’t always see him).

God will fulfill his plan for us, so we need to saturate ourselves with His Word and promises.

We need community—both as a place to share the testimony of hope God has given us, but also as a place to share our disappointments when expectations are not realized. We need each other.

This week, spend time reading from the letter of James. Ask God for direction on what community looks like and how we can be better at being God’s people. Also, spend time in Jesus’ presence and in the company of other believers. Don’t leave Jerusalem and head home to Emmaus, put down roots with others and find hope in what Jesus is doing.

Spend time with other believers, but instead of rehearsing all that has gone wrong find time to discuss the amazing things God has done. Make it a point to follow Jesus’ example in looking at God’s promises instead of spending time debating how bad things may be. Share time, be there for each other.

No, the church is not a perfect gathering of people, but we are on a journey with God. Jesus is our companion even when we can’t see him, and we have each other as well. May we all find ourselves on the road from disappointment to hope with Jesus as our traveling companion!

Thanks for reading!