A Devotional Reading for Easter
The following is an adapted excerpt from my book, Remarkable Hope: When Jesus Revived Hope in Disappointed People by Shauna Letellier. © 2019 FaithWords, Nashville.
Learn more or purchase your copy here.
SCRIPTURE: Luke 24:13-34
“You’re not going farther tonight, are you?” Cleopas asked the stranger. “Please…it’s nearly evening. It wouldn’t be safe to continue alone. Why don’t you stay with us?” Cleopas’ heart burned for more. Familiarity flickered, brightening the mystery, but he could not see it clearly.
“Yes!” Insisted Isaac. “The day is almost over, and we haven’t eaten since yesterday. Aren’t you hungry?”
The stranger hesitated and squinted into the distance of the road ahead.
“My mother always has plenty on hand.” Isaac assured.
“Surely you know the dangers that lie on the roadsides. Between soldiers, bandits, and wolves you’re likely to…” he stopped. “We’d be glad to have you,” said Cleopas.
“I would be honored,” said the stranger.
***
As expected, Isaac’s mother had spread the table with fruit and cheese, olive oil and butter. The familiar smells of roasted lamb and baked bread warmed the room, and Cleopas peeked into the kitchen. He was famished.
Isaac’s family welcomed the fellow traveler. His presence blunted Isaac’s father’s scorn as they visited and reclined around the table. Isaac’s mother poured milk and wine and set a warm loaf in front of Isaac’s father as he spoke. “Your friend is well-educated in the Scripture.”
Isaac nodded. His father pushed the plate of bread toward their guest, “Will you bless our meal?”
He smiled, lifted bread from the plate, turned his face heavenward and began to thank God. He prayed as though conversing with a friend or a father. The prayer was familiar, but different. With the Amen, he tore the loaf. Crumbs scattered on the table like manna sprinkled on the desert floor. Reaching across the table, he served steaming pieces to Isaac and Cleopas.
Cleopas slid the bread from his hand as if pulling a drawer. He froze. In the palm of their guest, tender skin, freshly scarred, formed an almond shape, as if it had been pierced.
Cleopas gasped. Isaac leaned forward. They stole a glance at one another, groping for words. The kitchen fire snapped. Isaac’s father gulped wine. A loaf of bread thumped as it dropped and rattled a plate.
He was gone.
Cleopas scrambled to his feet. The table jostled as Isaac pushed himself away. His mother stood in the doorway holding a plate of meat at an angle, broth running onto the floor. A goblet rolled in circles on the floor as Isaac’s father stammered questions he couldn’t finish.
“It was him.” Isaac whispered.
The flicker warming his heart earlier as they traveled now burst into white brilliance in Cleopas’ mind. Light sorted confusion into comprehension. “Wasn’t your heart burning as he explained the scripture to us on the road!” Cleopas panted though he’d only voiced a single thought.
Isaac nodded in agreement and quoted Isaiah. “It was the Lord’s will to crush him and cause him to suffer, and though the Lord makes his life an offering for sin, he will see his offspring and prolong his days, and the will of the Lord will prosper in his hand. After he has suffered, he will see the light of life and be satisfied.”[i]
“We’ve got to go back to Jerusalem!”
Good news of their resurrected Savior revived more radiant hope than they ever dared imagine. They rushed into the night, brash and bold, batting the truth back and forth. “It is true. He is risen.”
Mysteries Hidden in Plain Sight
In the valley between Jerusalem and Emmaus, in the confusion of engrossing dispute, “they were kept from recognizing him.”[iv] Luke does not write “they were too dull to recognize Jesus.” Neither does he chide them for their slowness—he leaves that to Jesus. Luke says they were prevented from seeing clearly. Someone planned that these two disciples, who had walked, listened, and eaten with Jesus before his death, should not recognize him in his resurrected body.
God’s wise and powerful hands had supernaturally covered their eyes. But it wasn’t the harsh cruelty of a criminal blinding his hostage. They were not God’s victims. They were his beloved children.
In the same way, a father might cover his daughter’s eyes before her birthday party where guests are smiling and silent, waiting for him to give the long-awaited signal to shout “Surprise!” When her eyes are uncovered, she will not hate him for keeping it a secret. All the balloons, cake, family and friends, games, and gifts were prepared to be revealed when her father knew she would experience the greatest joy.
She remembers a bakery receipt on the counter, a brown package on the doorstep, and her grandmother on the phone saying, “See you soon.” Mysteries hidden in plain sight come tumbling together to astound. Her father’s loving plans are finally unveiled, and the memory of details she did not understand enhance her thrill!
The Emmaus disciples were unknowingly held in the embrace of a Father who did the same for them. When they rushed back to Jerusalem to tell Peter and John and the others, you can hear them laughing and reciting scriptures that make perfect sense considering Christ’s resurrection.
God covered their eyes, so to speak, as he led them down the road to the surprise of their lives. He raised their hope by resurrecting their Savior. He made his light shine in their hearts to give them the knowledge of God’s glory displayed in the face of Christ.[v] They had hoped Jesus was the one to redeem Israel, and he was.
But God had more glory to unveil. Within seven weeks of their supper with a stranger, in an upper room of Jerusalem, God would reveal another flaming gift. Jesus would not merely live to walk beside them on the road or sit before them at the table. He would go away to his Father so His Spirit could live in them.[vi]
A Mystery for You and Me
Throughout the New Testament the Apostle Paul writes about “a mystery which was kept hidden for ages.[vii] We can’t quite wrap our heads around it as we walk through the valley between earthly suffering and eternal glory. But Paul explained it this way: “Christ in you, the hope of glory.”[viii]
We too are on a road, not to Emmaus, but to our eternal home in Heaven, and it’s easy to become discouraged. From our vantage point, suffering rarely makes sense, and a sinless eternity is lightyears away. We have read of the promises of victory through Christ, of being made like him, of his glorious inheritance kept for us in heaven, but misunderstanding and incomplete information stir up confusion and questions.
Jesus arrives amid our confusion—even if we don’t recognize him at first—to remind and teach us what he’s promised in his word.[ix] What we view as an improbable wish, he has guaranteed as an absolute reality. We long for visons of glory, and glimpses of what heaven might be like, while all along Christ, the hope of glory, resides inside believers, guaranteeing the riches of his inheritance.
Like the delighted daughter and the Emmaus disciples, we too will have the joy of looking back at our confusion with the relief of perfect comprehension. We will have the pleasure of connecting the dots between scriptures read, sermons heard, and questions whispered among believing friends. With our faith made sight, the brilliant fullness of the Good News of Jesus Christ will burst into radiant clarity, and we will see the glory of God in the face of Christ. With such certainty living in us, we are compelled to rush boldly to share the Good News with our friends and family who may not yet know.
Dear Lord,
I wallow in the valley between what was once clear and what has turned out to be confusing. You spoke through your word and your spirit, and I believed, but my experiences confuse. I confess I have doubted your words, your goodness, and your timing. You said that if I love and obey you, you’d show yourself to me. I do love you, Lord, but sometimes I struggle to see you.
You promised your Spirit to instruct and teach me in the way I should go. Still, I find myself stalled at unmarked intersections, straining into the distance, holding a finger in the wind, listening for direction.
Help me recognize your presence as you connect the dots you’ve carefully arranged. Engrave your truth in my mind to remind me that though your timing may be inexplicable, and your hand unrecognizable, you will eventually make perfect, holy sense of it all.
Thank you for delighting me with glorious mystery you spotlight at the perfect moment. What a privilege. What a Savior.
{Excerpt taken from Remarkable Hope: When Jesus Revived Hope in Disappointed People, by Shauna Letellier. © 2019 FaithWords, Nashville}
[i] Isaiah 53:10-11
[ii] Luke 24:18
[iii] See Luke 24:15
[iv] Luke 24:16
[v] See 2 Corinthians 4:6
[vi] See John 16:7
[vii] See Colossians 1:26
[viii] Colossians 1:27
[ix] See John 14:26