Read Chapter 24

I am not usually the one who likes to know what happened at the end of the book before reading the entire book. In fact, lately I haven’t read any books: except those I have to. Grad school kind of ruins reading for fun. The professor asked during a Zoom meeting a couple weeks ago what we were reading for pleasure. I was the only one to speak up and say, “since the start of your class, I haven’t read anything for fun.” The rest of them laughed and admitted they felt the same, but of course no one else wanted to confess. Reading seems to be for information for me. I don’t snuggle down with a good book during a snow storm. I also don’t sit and watch Hallmark movies during snowstorms. We are flying home today from sunny Tennessee to, well, the forecasters seem to think will be a snowstorm. Anywhere from 1″ to 12″. I guess time will tell. I am just not a social reader! I know, I could get counseling for that but let’s keep going. Read Chapter 24. In Luke that is. I know it’s so tempting this time of year to only think about the nativity and the miracles we see in Luke 1 and 2, but go to the end and read Chapter 24. There we find the men on the road to Emmaus and, Jesus. Except there are some things that perhaps you didn’t see before.

If you have ever gone through a bit of stress, you will know you don’t think clearly. And if you had the wrong conclusion to the problem, you are even a bit more puzzled. They thought Jesus was going to set up an earthly kingdom, take over the Romans, who had taken over them, and it would be a party. It didn’t happen. They were shell shocked and walking home. Sometimes the walk home is a “think” walk. I have done that. Thinking outside the box, inside the box, looking for a door out of the box and just mulling over what has happened. I have had a few flights home in times past that lots of memories, tears and frustration went with the jet-trails that indicated we were flying back to Minnesota 25,000′ above the world. So, walk with these two men. Jesus, incognito, appears. He asks a dumb question. I have asked lots of dumb questions. They look at him like, “What rock have you been hiding under”? Their faces showed their hearts. Downcast, they stopped walking to look at him in absolute shock as if to say, “duh”? So they told what they thought. Sometimes what we think isn’t that overwhelming, but it’s what we know. Jesus pretty much throws them under the bus but they still don’t catch it that they were insulted. So he goes back to the beginning. For me, this would be a “This is my life” by Jesus but by someone who might have slightly resembled Uncle Sy of Duck Dynasty. They did not expect they knew the person talking to them. He gave them a history lesson; one of which I wish I could hear. Seven miles went by in the blink of an eye. Probably not, but when one is enthralled one doesn’t notice the sore muscles, the dusty air, the thirst or the “are we there yet” questions. Perhaps the most intriguing part of all is when they ask this total stranger to come in. They urged him strongly. I haven’t done that alot, but there are time, I beg someone not to go. I want to continue in their presence. All along, Jesus was giving them the “why’s” of his life. They didn’t recognize the “who”. Had they known it was Jesus, they would not have, if they are like me, listened to the why because they would have been so enamored about the who. Then they let the guest pick up the bread. That was a no-no. Guests never broke bread. You waited on your guests. You provided for their needs. You served them, in that culture. We do it too! You get it! And Jesus picked up the bread and gave thanks and broke it. Just another day, just another meal and whammo- Jesus pulls a “Do you know me now?” moment. Then he disappeared. “Then their eyes were opened.” What will it take for Jesus to open your eyes this Christmas? First of all, listen for the why’s Jesus is telling you. Then get your hands off the bread. The bread will represent things that we hold tight to. The host broke bread. That’s what hosts did. We hold on to our bread. Our stuff, our time, our children, our friends, our energy: you get it. When will we let Jesus break our loaves of bread, and let him open our eyes to who he really is? Until we give up our loaves of bread that of course are “ours”, in our eyes, Jesus doesn’t reveal who He is. Put down the bread and back away from the knife. Let Jesus open your eyes to who he really is. I don’t know what that will mean for you, but for these guys it meant walking 7 miles back to Jerusalem. That’s sacrifice. It didn’t even say they ate the bread! Having Jesus open your eyes, drives your heart to go, to do, to say, to love and to serve! Read Luke 24 and put down the bread!