The Walk Towards Emmaus

And, behold, two of them went that same day to a village called Emmaus, which was from Jerusalem about threescore furlongs. And they talked together of all these things which had happened. And it came to pass, that while they communed together, and reasoned, 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 manner of communications are these that ye have one to another, as ye walk, and are sad? And the one of them, whose name was Cleopas, answering said unto him, Art thou only a stranger in Jerusalem, and hast not known the things which are come to pass there in these days? And he said unto them, What things 1 And they said unto him, Concerning Jesus of Nazareth, which was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people: and how the chief priests and our rulers delivered him to be condemned to death, and have crucified him. But we trusted that it had been he which should have redeemed Israel; and beside all this, to-day is the third day since these things were done. Yea, and certain women also of our company made us astonished, which were early at the sepulchre; and when they found not his body, they came, saying, that they had also seen a vision of angels, which said that he was alive. And certain of them which were with us went to the sepulchre, and found it even so as the women had said; but him they saw not. Then he said unto them, O fools, and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken! Ought not Christ to have suffered these things, and to enter into his glory? And beginning at Moses and all the prophets, he expounded unto them in all the Scriptures the things concerning himself. And they drew nigh unto the village, whither they went; and he made as though he would have gone fbrther. But they constrained him, saying, Abide with us; for it is toward evening, and the day is far spent. And he went in to tarry with them. And it came to pass, as he sat at meat with them, he took bread, and blessed it, and brake, and 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; Did not our heart burn within us, while he talked with us by the way, and while he opened to us the Scriptures? And they rose up the same 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.

It is wrong, my brethren, to praise one part of the word of God as if it were better than another. The Scriptures are everywhere good and beautiful, and exalted far above our criticism. Every branch of the tree of life affords a whole harvest of heavenly thoughts, which if we do not gather, the fault is our own. Nevertheless, there are places where the golden fruit appears richer and more plentiful than in others, but particularly in the section which we have just been reading; for the first glance at this part of the gospel awakens the whole sympathy of our hearts. Our interest increases the longer we contemplate it; it delights and enraptures us, while it irresistibly chains our attention, for a whole heaven of blissful ideas is comprehended in this glorious narration. Let us now consider more nearly each single trait in this beautiful gospel, but particularly in the manner in which the disciples journeying towards Emmaus became aware of the resurrection of Christ; and let “Life illuminated by the light of Easter,” be our theme.

I. It is between afternoon and evening; the sun is now about to set — and surely it has seen glorious things this day. Two men are walking on the lonely mountain-path between Jerusalem and the village of Emmans; two artisans, if one may judge from their appearance. One is Cleopas, probably the brother-in-law of the Virgin Mary; the name of the other is not mentioned. What if he were Nathanael, the Israelite without guile? It is uncertain though very possible. They belong to the followers of the Nazarene; not to the twelve, but most probably to the seventy; at any rate to the persecuted brethren. The sequel of the history proves that they were not even men in Christ, but children after the Spirit; nay, perhaps not even yet regenerated. We must on no account imagine that the followers of our Saviour, generally speaking, were heroes of the faith, or masters in Israel; on the contrary, they did little else than try the patience and exercise the long-suffering of their Lord on every occasion. For example, one petitioned to sit at his right hand when he should ascend the throne of David; another, following the blind dictates of his affection, attempted to prevent him accomplishing the work of reconciliation, and strove to hinder him going to Jerusalem to fill the office of our great high-priest. On another occasion they run towards him, transported with joy, like simple children who have learned some new feat of dexterity, because they can now drive out evil spirits, and perform miracles. Again, they are impatient for the day when their Master should expel his enemies from the land, and when they, filling the highest offices and inhabiting the most splendid dwellings, should become partakers of his majesty and glory. Nay, at times such childish acts and follies come to light, which have been committed by the disciples, as might almost make us believe they had not been at the time converted and regenerated. But whether this were the case or not, their names at present have long stood recorded in the book of life, and they themselves have long enjoyed the sunshine of their Saviour’s love.

The two disciples, journeying towards Emmaus, seem indeed to have been but children in the faith, and do not appear to have looked deeply into the mysteries of the cross. In wisdom and knowledge they are poor, but they love the Lord Jesus from their hearts; and fire is there, although as yet it may not have burst forth into light.

One can gather from their appearance that some calamity has newly happened. Alas! they are indeed very sorrowful. Their minds are disquieted with questions and doubts, while their hearts are heavy with grief and vexation. True, they are walking on a pleasant mountain path, surrounded on all sides by the blossoms and verdure of spring, while the birds are singing, some in the air, and some among the branches; but the joyfulness of nature harmonizes ill with their feelings. Their brightest hopes, their most cherished projects, and their sweetest dreams, have been buried in the grave with Jesus. What is their Christianity now, and on whom can they pour out their love, since they have no Christ? Their Lord is dead. Did he even lie in the grave, they would know where all their hopes and joys were buried; but alas! they have been in Jerusalem, and found the tomb desolate and empty! What then has become of the beloved corpse 1 To how many conjectures may not the circumstance of its disappearance give rise i The women who spake with the angels that were sitting in the tomb, related strange things which they had said. But what angels? Hope and love are apt to imagine many things, and therefore the women prove nothing. Why did Peter see no angel when he visited the grave? And why did John, the beloved disciple, who lay on the bosom of Jesus, — why did he behold nothing? Alas! we need no longer hope; all is over with our cause, and there is nothing more to expect! “Yet,” says the one to the other, “might we not hope a little longer? can we? dare we? Cleopas, suppose for a moment that the women had actually beheld angels, and that they said he was alive! If this were the case! — Cleopas! If — if — but —” Alas, this but occurs again; they are afraid of deceiving themselves, those poor disciples: and therefore they embrace the doubt more firmly than the hope. They now proceed on their way: thought after thought crowds into their minds, producing a wild confusion; yet they cannot come to any certain conclusion. Now fear and now hope predominates; then they are terrified at their own presumption, and resign themselves to grief anew. How earnestly do those two pilgrims converse! even at a distance one can hear of whom they are speaking. Verily, the cause of their Lord and Master is dear unto their souls; and whatever faint-heartedness and unbelief they may be accused of, God will assist them in his own good time, and the good seed which has been sown in their hearts shall certainly come to light. Our Lord does not always approach his people, when he is about to convert them, in the same manner in which he approached the two disciples. Suddenly, and like an armed man, he comes to many; arresting them in the midst of their godless life, while surrounded by the temptations and allurements of the world, and softening in one instant their cold and hardened. hearts; the first symptom of their conversion being a cry for pardon and mercy, and an earnest desire to be cleansed in the blood of the Lamb. With others, our Saviour acts in a more silent and secret manner, employing gradual manifestations and long preparation. As, when winter is just past, we derive more delight, if possible, from the unfolding of the leaves, the budding of the flowers, and all the sights and sounds of early spring, than from the warmth of May and the luxuriance of summer; so the eye of an experienced Christian derives a similar pleasure from contemplating the first symptoms of divine grace in fallen man; for he regards them as blossoms, which promise a future harvest of rich and beautiful fruit. Yet the commencement of this work of grace is often to all appearance trifling and unimportant, and we frequently see nothing which can be termed

repentance or contrition; nevertheless, there is a secret disquietude in these souls, and a feeling that the great thing requisite to their happiness is awanting. Although there may be no supplication for grace and mercy, there may be a heartfelt longing for a glorious treasure which they know not how to name; — no bold acknowledgment, “Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God!” and yet an earnest inquiry after their Redeemer, and the

THE WALK TOWARDS EMMAUS. 35ttd

things of his kingdom; — no solemn oath of allegiance to the banner of Zion, no decisive step towards joinings the people of God; and yet a devout attention, when the gospel is spoken of, an earnest endeavour to walk in the right path, a longing to attain certainty in their religious views, and an unwearied search after truth and peace. You must not expect, however, that a man of this description will join with you, as you would wish, in lauding and magnifying the Saviour, and praising the miracles of his grace and mercy. It is quite possible that he may feel uncomfortable in the midst of you, and be silent and dumb in your society; and this, not from enmity to your holy cause, but because he is secretly grieved that he cannot express himself like you, and that while you mount on eagles’ wings almost farther than his eye can reach, he is forced to remain grovelling upon earth. Nay, you must not even be astonished though he should gainsay your opiniops, and exclaim with Nathanael, “Can there any good thing come out of Nazareth?” For probably the same honest desire to find out the truth may lurk in his soul, and the next day he may cry out with the same fervour, “Rabbi, thou art the Son of God; thou art the King of Israel!” And were he to enter an assemblage of mockers and blasphemers, I can answer for it, that though he might previously have withstood you, on this occasion he would take the part of the gospel, and loudly and unreservedly confess that Lord whom he himself has not yet found: nay, he will even confess more than he actually believes and is conscious of, for his heart whispers, though it may be but faintly, that it is truth which he contends for. When we meet people such as I have just described, we may well yield to the dictates of that love which hopeth all things; like friends and brothers we must accost them, and on no account condemn them for their wavering and unbelief, lest we vex that Holy Spirit, who is even now working within them, and whom it pleases on this occasion to bring forth first the blade, then the ear, and afterwards the golden corn in the ear.

II. Sorrowful and utterly cast down, the wanderers pursue their path; alas, what an Easter have those poor men kept! It is a pity that they have left Jerusalem so quickly, but this cannot be altered now: had they remained there only one short hour longer, much grief and lamentation might have been spared them, for then they would have heard from Mary Magdalene what wonderful things had taken place. Unfortunately, however, they had departed from Jerusalem at the moment when the joyful life of Easter began. Thus men frequently stand in their own light: but beware of doing so, ye among my friends who are still mourning and weeping, and whom the Easter sun has not yet illuminated: be not too hasty in deciding what has taken place, or what must be done. Resist this tendency to rash measures, for it is evil; close not your heart against hope, but give heed when you hear its little voice whisper, “Jesus lives, and I along with him! The Lord is risen indeed!”

The farther our two pilgrims travel from Jerusalem, the heavier do their hearts become. Alas! their oppression and sorrow is so great that they seem even to breathe with difficulty; though at times a spark of hope arises in the bosom of one of them, it flickers upwards only to be extinguished by the doubts and objections of the other. If the one ask whether it can be possible that his cause is lost who commanded the winds and the sea to obey him; the other shakes his head with a sigh, fearful of exciting hopes in the mind of his friend which must end in bitter disappointment. Again and again they repeat over to each other the late mysterious occurrences; at intervals some word of promise shines in the back-ground of their memories, only to die away the next moment, and their countenances change colour, brighten and are overcast with gloom, varying like their thoughts, their opinions, and their feelings. The end of their discussion, however, is always the same: “Yes,” say they, “our sweet dream is over, and our life of sorrow has begun — may God take pity upon us!” Unfortunate men! beaten and harassed by the storm, it seems as though the sun would never shine upon them again. And yet who is there that would not like to stand in their place 1 Who would not gladly exchange all earthly splendour for the happiness which is even now awaiting the wanderers? 0 sorrow without cause, and unnecessary grief! We may compare them to a man who is living a twofold existence, and who at the same moment breathes in two worlds, the one of which resembles the other as much as the darkest and most cheerless night does the brightest and loveliest day. And certainly the world in which our disciples imagined themselves to be at present was like a nightscene, in which neither moon nor stars are visible in the heavens, and darkness which can be felt is covering the land. Here they were poor, forsaken children, with neither father nor mother, sinners, with none to save and none to help them. 0 what a world of misery and confusion! A world where nothing can be seen before them, and where the hand of Provi<= dence cannot be traced; a world where the raging lion goes about, with none to stay his ferocity; a world under the government of the blindest chance, groaning under the curse, and ruled by the sceptre of the king of terrors, from whose destroying power none can make their escape, — not even the Immaculate One, the Lord of Heaven! A gloomy House of imprisonment for lost and hopeless creatures; one vast abode of sorrow, suffering, and death; the gloomy ante-chamber, opening into eternal desolation, and the terrific preparation for hell!

Such was the aspect of one of those worlds in which the two disciples were existing. And what was this world in reality? A mere dream of the imagination; a delusive picture mirrored in their faithless hearts. They breathed at the same moment the air of a different world, clad in different colours, illuminated by a different light. It was the new world which commenced in the early dawn of Easter day, and which was btprn while the heavens were thundering, the rocks were splitting, and while the morning stars were shouting for joy; — a world of splendour, triumph, and glory, where the raging lion is trampled in the dust, and where the king of terrors is disarmed and dead; — a world from which the curse has been removed, and which is gladdened by the smiles of the Almighty; where the angels of God are constantly descending upon errands of mercy, and upon whose throne a Prince of Peace is wielding his gentle sceptre. Yes, it was a world such as this which surrounded our disciples; but how little were they aware of it! Obstinately they remained in the gloomy dream which the timidity of their hearts and their want of faith had created, instead of entering the joyful light of the Easter world, which shone so gloriously around them. Nothing more was necessary than that some friendly hand should come to their assistance, and open the windows of their souls, in order that they might see clearly. What beautiful objects would then meet their gaze? In an instant the voice of their complaining would cease, and the clouds of their sorrow be dissipated like the mist of the morning by the rising sun. Already this hand is approaching the wanderers; and in a few moments more the darkness of their dream will be dissipated, and the joy of Paradise and the light of the Easter world will dawn in their souls.

III. We shall now leave the two pilgrims for a while, as another and more glorious object arrests our attention: it is the person who appears at some distance, walking along the same path. Who is this Stranger 1 Do you not know him? It is — it is the Easter King! Let us sing Hosanna to greet him! But before approaching him more nearly, I must relate his history. He, as you are aware, was from all eternity in heaven. What induced him to snatch sinners from destruction, I know not, for the word love says too little, and raise them to the glory of heaven. For this purpose, when the fulness of time had arrived, he descended to this earth amid the songs of the blessed angels, and took upon him our nature. He became a man like unto us, with the exception of our sinfulness; for sin had no part in him, although he took it upon himself. It was ascribed to him as though he, the Holy One, had committed it; and like us, he stood before the tribunal of God, charged with the same transgressions, and condemned to undergo the same sentence.

While he was thus standing as our representative, he said, “I go to the Father!” thus designating his pilgrimage through this world; and certainly it was a most wonderful thing that he, in the character of our Pledge, should be going to the Father. It was a thing in which we, as sinners, were inexpressibly interested; for should he attain this goal, should he actually be received into fellowship with the Father, then it was clear as day that there would no longer be any hindrance in our path to heaven. Our Saviour, as being laden with the burden of our sins, was to be treated like ourselves; if then the Father’s arms were opened to receive him, it would be a certain proof that they would also be open to receive us. But what happened? Scarcely was this mysterious journey towards his Father’s house commenced, when a mighty difficulty arose. The word “Stay!” was thundered forth, and a voice cried out from the throne of the Majesty on high, “They alone are permitted to enter my sanctuary who have kept what is written in the book of the law ‘” The great Pilgrim heard — but did he turn back? No: he gave due honour to eternal holiness, subjected himself to the law, and by his perfect obedience removed the hitherto insurmountable difficulty which lay in our path to heaven. Amid a thousand trials and temptations, he fully satisfied the demands of the law, and presented such a righteousness to the eyes of his Father, that the latter cried out from heaven, “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased!” “I go to the Father!” said this wonderful Man once more; and in truth we had reason to hope that he would be able to penetrate to the heart of his Father, and along with him that we should also; for he acted in our name. But, alas! once more the word “Stay!” was thundered from the throne, and the same voice pronounced the words, “A late obedience will not suffice; sins which have been done cannot be undone; and the sentence which has been uttered must be put into execution!” Our great Pledge replied, “I am ready to suffer it!” Then the heavens began to lour, the sword of vengeance was unsheathed, and the lightnings flashed from the clouds. His path now led to the gloomy garden of Gethsemane, then ascended the terrible mount Golgotha, and ere we were aware, thi martyred Lamb lay bathed in his own blood. “It is finished!’* were his own words from the cross; but no, heaven was not yet satisfied. A thir# time the word” Stay P’ was thundered forth; and instead of the arms of eternal love being stretched forth to receive him, a terrible monster opened his frightful jaws to engulf him.

He died by a fearful death, and his bloody corpse, instead of being received in the paternal arms, was cast into the dark and gloomy grave. Then did he fail in reaching the longed-for goal? Certainly, while he lay in the tomb he had not attained it; and if he were not to succeed in reaching heaven, and softening the heart of his Father, then, alas! nothing was more certain than that we also must be for ever separated from God, and that at the close of our pilgrimage we must become a prey to a hateful death. For it must not be forgotten that Jesus in our name sought the path to his Father’s house, that he stood in our place, represented our persons, and that in looking upon him we must regard him as being one with ourselves. His fate was therefore our fate; and while he was dead, and lay in the ground, rejected and forsaken by God, alas! our cause did indeed look terrible, and no star of hope and consolation shone through the dark clouds of our existence.

But lo! who is it that now approaches? A much desired and most blessed Object! Yes, yes, it is He! the Pilgrim who suffered death! Let every heart rejoice! Let every breath be a Hallelujah! What a heaven of blissful hope, what a paradise of peace and joy, discloses itself to our view in the reappearance of our Lord ancPBrother! Yes, he has reached the goal; he has found an entrance into his Father’s house! Joy, joy, for us! We now rest in the arms of eternal love, and our path loses itself in the splendour of the great Easter morning; for the person of Christ contained ours, and what he did has been done by all his people. Now we behold him approaching in the light of his

Hew and glorified existence: the Father has loosed him from the bands of death, and showered down upon him riches and blessings. Jehovah has by the resurrection of his Son proclaimed aloud his fatherly approbation, and testified in accents of thunder that he is worthy of the glory of heaven, and that all power and dominion are his due! How nearly does this testimony concern you poor sinners! For you it was uttered! to you it was given! and you it was whom the Father on the third day received to his heart! O remember that it was not Jesus alone, but you also in whose place he stood, whom the gates of heaven opened to receive! You conquered in the garden of Joseph, you were pronounced justified, you found the path to the heart of the Father, and upon your heads descended those sunbeams of divine mercy, with whose splendour you behold Jesus clad this day!

IV. The two disciples are still sorrowfully pursuing their path, when a third person comes up behind them. “Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.” They have no idea who the Stranger may be, and they trouble themselves about it as little, for they have no desire for companionship. The Unknown meanwhile redoubles his speed, and approaches nearer; when he gets up to them he salutes them, and appears as if he wished to join their party. Ah! did they but know who it is that greets them! Meanwhile they regard the Stranger with curiosity, and measure him from head to foot with a hasty glance; but no, his face they never beheld before; he is certainly a stranger, probably re« turning from the feast. They now resume their discourse, after returning his salutation, for they trouble themselves about him no more. The pilgrim, however, remains, and almost forces himself upon them. And does he not always do so to those who receive him upon earth? We now behold the two disciples walking side by side with the Unknown. Go on in peace, ye pilgrims! for ye have with you the cloudy pillar, and the pillar of fire; the rock which Moses struck, and the bread from heaven! But they still perceive nothing, for their eyes are closed. My brethren, there are many among you who resemble them; the same Man accompanies you, walking side by side, often for a long time before you recognise him; although afterwards, I grant, in looking back to the thousand circumstances which then took place, you exclaim with Jacob, “Surely the Lord is in this place, and I knew it not!”

The stranger now addressed the two pilgrims: ““What manner of communications,” said he, “are these that ye have one to another, as ye walk and are sad V Thus unlocking their hearts as though with a golden key, that all might flow out. Is it not generally the case that he commences his wonderful operations in the heart of man by asking a question 1 And when such a question is asked, is not silence at an end, and does not the answer seem to come of itself? But when does Jesus ask this question? When the heart is so full and so heavy that it seems as though one could no longer support it; when one feels that there is no one to understand him, and still less one to hel£ him. Then upon your knees ye must speak to the invisible God, and pour out your inmost soul in his presence: you must say all, all, for Jesus himself questions; he asks you what ye have been talking about on the way when ye looked so sad; and our Lord knows so well how to ask, that one can lie for hours prostrate before him, and yet always find more and more to say to him, ever remembering something else which ought to be confessed, until at length his whole heart has been poured out. People frequently think that they act thus of their own accord; but they are mistaken; the voice of an invisible Being draws them on, until all gives answer; the mouth with words, the eyes with looks and tears, and the heart with sighs. And yet it is a frequent question, “Does God hear all that we say?” My brethren, how can he fail to hear, who knows so well how to ask?

Now I shall tell you how our disciples replied to the question of the Unknown. Cleopas answered, “Art thou only a stranger in Jerusalem, and hast not known the things which are come to pass there in these days V The Stranger really appears not to have heard of these occurrences, and asks, “What things?” They must now relate the history to him, although he knows it already far better than they do; for where he addresses a soul in an earnest manner, that soul must reply to him frankly and fully. In such a conversation it will not do to speak in general terms, such as, “I have sinned, O Lord!” Nor yet must we reckon on his omniscience to excuse the poverty of our confessions, saying to ourselves, “Why should we particularize our backslidings, when he knows them already better than we do ourselves?” No, this does not satisfy Jesus: “What things 7” he asks our hearts again; and does not permit us to rest until we are circumstantial in our confessions, and until we unveil before him the inmost secrets of our bosoms.

When their unknown Companion demanded “What things?” the two began to relate them. Oh! did they but know who the person was to whom they were relating his own history! — “The man,” say they,“of whom we have been talking, and on whose account we are so sorrowful, is Jesus of Nazareth, a prophet.” What! ye faithless ones — a prophet only? Have ye not heard this prophet say, “All men should honour the Son, even as they honour the Father?” Have ye not heard his testimony, “He that hath seen me hath seen the Father;” besides all that he said concerning his Godhead? — They lauded him as a prophet mighty in word and deed, and as a man true and holy, in all his ways. Yes, they had been convinced of this, but, alas! the mighty words they had heard from him had now lost their force, and his deeds had not corresponded to their expectation. — “The chief priests and our rulers,” continue they, “delivered him to be condemned to death, and have crucified him.” It was this circumstance which proved their stumbling-block. Oh! why had they not better studied the 53d chapter of Isaiah, the 22d Psalm, the 13th chapter of Zechariah, the allegories contained in the sacrificial ceremonies, and the raising up of the brazen serpent? They now go on to say, “But we trusted that it had been he which should have redeemed Israel.” Thus we perceive how they knew nothing of what had taken place on the third day: and because the Lord had not yet appeared to them, his words with regard to his own resurrection went for nothing.

They then relate how certain of the women had visited the sepulchre early in the morning, and thrown the disciples into alarm by their intelligence that the body of the Lord had disappeared; and how they had also beheld a vision of angels who told them that Jesus was alive. Alas! why had they not believed this message, which might have saved them all their doubt and suffering! But their own blind reason, and not the word of the Lord, reigned supreme in their hearts, banishing obstinately all idea of the resurrection of the dead. — “And certain,” continue they, “of them which were with us went to the sepulchre, and found it even so as the women had said; but him they saw not.” These are the words of the two disciples; they mean well, and they say what they believe. It is evident that they still love the Lord Jesus with their whole heart, and still, in spite of their blasted hopes, rely upon him; but the torch of their faith burns dimly, and their thoughts are a melancholy confusion of folly, prejudice, ignorance, and blindness. They have ceased to look to the Scriptures, they have forgotten the words of Moses and the prophets, and have rejected the testimony of their Master. This is their own misfortune; and their words, “But we trusted that it had been he which should have redeemed Israel,” show the secret cause of all their grief and trouble.

Who had told them to expect a temporal redemption and a temporal kingdom at present? Why had they not regarded the words of Jesus, when he said, “My kingdom is not of this world?” And why had they not examined more diligently Moses and the Prophets? “But we trusted!” Truly, even in the present day, this is the cause of many of the tears which flow in Zion. People make a Saviour out of Jesus according to their own wishes; they say he must do so and so with us; and what they wish for, they expect. When it happens otherwise, they sigh and lament, exclaiming, with the two disciples in our history, «’ But we trusted!” Yes, continue to trust and hope, my brethren; but hope according to Scripture, and cast anchor on the firm ground of the Word; if you do so, the heaven of your lives will not be overcast. The whole narration of Cleopas confirms what we said before with regard to their ignorance and want of faith; nevertheless, we behold sparks and flames appearing at intervals, which cannot let us doubt that the Holy Spirit is even now working in their hearts. How freely and unconstrainedly do they confess in the presence of a stranger, their dependence on the crucified One! And certainly to make this confession in those times of danger, a greater courage was required than flesh and blood could give. What tender love to the dead do we discern in the attempt to raise him above all criticism and all condemnation! And how touching and important is the circumstance, that as far as they comprehend the glory of their Master, so much do they strive to weave a crown of splendour which may encircle the head of the dead! This is also manifest in their secret hope that they may win the Stranger to the cause of Jesus; and gain him, deceased though he be, a new disciple in the person of the Wmderer. Does not this trait in their characters enable us to perceive a hand-writing, such as nature alone could not have traced in their souls? and do we not inhale the fragrance of a flower-bed of thoughts and feelings such as the heavenly Gardener alone could have planted?

V My brethren, do ye not begin to understand the reason why our Saviour delays to open the eyes of the two disciples? Say, would it have been to their advantage had he disclosed himself to them at once? I think not. Amazed and thunderstruck they would have stood before him, but without knowing the cause of the reappearance of their Master; and without having the least idea of the true meaning and consoling efficacy of his resurrection. Probably they would have felt as their brethren afterwards did, in that well-known evening hour, when they would not trust the evidence of their bodily eyes, that it was Jesus who stood in the midst of them; but were terrified and affrighted, supposing they had seen a spirit, or a visitant from another world, instead of deriving peace and gladness from his presence. Had they even been convinced that it was in reality their Master whom they beheld, and that he indeed lived again, still his presence would not have assured them of what they ought to have been assured. But perhaps you think they would have rejoiced, and said among themselves, “The sacrifice which Jesus offered has been accepted by God! God has pronounced us blessed in him, and absolved us from our sins! We have risen from the dead along with him; we have been exalted, justified, and declared worthy of heaven!” You are indeed mistaken; as yet they have not the least idea that Jesus suffered in their stead, and delivered them from their sins upon the cross; for they who cannot understand Christ crucified, cannot understand him risen from the dead. We cannot sufficiently admire the wisdom of Jesus in closing their eyes until he had expounded the Scriptures, and proved that the Messiah must suffer and die; showing then the importance of his rising from the dead, bursting open the prison of the tomb, and stepping forth, crowned with honour and glory.

Scarcely have the two disciples finished their sorrowful narration, when the unknown One raises his lance to chase away the spectre which is even now attempting to pour the fiery poison of despair and unbelief into their hearts. Faithlessness is the name of this monster. Our Lord makes use of words sharp and cutting, like a two-edged sword; and in this the wisdom of that Man was seen, to whom his enemies bore testimony that he spake as one having authority. “0 fools!” he begins, “and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken!”

Yes; the bitter medicine of an earnest reproof, especially if it be mingled with love, penetrates to the heart more quickly, and enlivens the faith more powerfully, than even unalloyed compassion, or friendly consolation. A sentence such as this uttered with authority, “0 fool! thou dost desire and long for Jesus; why then dost thou not call to mind his words, 8 Blessed are ye that hunger now, for ye shall be filled?’ “— or,” Ye faithless ones, who know that ye are in Christ Jesus, and that ye belong to him! why do ye let the consciousness of your sins torment you? “Why do ye doubt and make that scripture a lie, which says so plainly, * There is no condemnation to them who are in Christ Jesus V” — words such as these are often of mighty service, and resemble the soft and enlivening breeze, which, after a storm, is wafted over hill and valley to refresh the weary and weather-beaten wanderer. Suppose a man who has cause to reckon himself among the poor in spirit and the heavy-laden, but who, at the same time, is conscious of being the child of God; if such a one pursue his appointed path sighing and lamenting, instead of rejoicing, does he not merit reproof, and not commiseration? and is not the root of his grief to be found in the slowness of his heart? Such a fool stands in his own light; and it would be better for him, if, instead of cherishing his melancholy fancies, he would read the Bible, and constrain his obstinate heart to believe the promises which have been given him: certainly it is not for him to choose whether to accept them or not; whether to allow or deny their efficacy.

It must have made a singular impression upon tho two disciples, when the Stranger, from whose lips the expected to receive compassionate sympathy, began all at once to reprove them, and chide their unbelief. I can imagine them looking in astonishment at one another, as much as to say, “What does this mean? Who is this man V They are struck dumb, and cannot understand it: meanwhile the sharp and cutting words of the Stranger act like a whirlwind in dispelling the clouds of their grief, or like lightning illuminating their spiritual night, and changing in an instant the whole frame of their minds. The strange Pilgrim continues, “Ought not Christ to have suffered these things, and to enter into his glory?” And now he begins to prove it out of Moses and the Prophets, thus opening to them the holy place of the ancient manifestations of God. He leads them through the beautiful garden of the divine promises; enables their spiritual ear to hear the voices of the old seers and prophets joining in one mighty chorus through all the ages of the world; accompanies them through the various pictures, shadows, types, and figures, which refer to the mysterious sufferings of Christ; and shows them how the great God of their fathers had borne testimony from the beginning of time to the foundation of his Son’s kingdom by the shedding of his blood. He then un- folds to them the grounds upon which the Messiah must suffer, in order to redeem the world; and explains to them the mystery of Christ being our great High-Priest and Representative. He speaks of Jesus taking upon himself the debts and obligations of sinners; of the perfect obedience which he presented to his Father in the name of transgressors; and of the full satisfaction which he offered to eternal justice, by subjecting himself to the curse, and undergoing a fearful punishment.

After he has thus gradually brought to light the necessity of the sufferings of Christ, he comes to the glorification of the Redeemer — reminds them of the text which refer to his resurrection and ascension — and unfolds before their eyes the great document attested by the Father, in which it is declared, that the Son has, by the sacrifice of himself, made ample satisfaction for the sins of the whole world. He shows them from the mouths of the prophets, how our great Pledge must rise out of the dust of humiliation; how the Father must recal to life the mighty dead — crown him with glory and honour before the eyes of the world — and thus confirm his mediatorship, proclaim the perfection of his work, justify him, and declare him to be worthy of his promised reward. But he also enables the disciples to look still more deeply into the mystery of the glorification of their Redeemer; he teaches them to view it, remembering that Christ is their representative; shows them that his Justification and being crowned with glory is of value, not merely to himself, but to those sinners in whose place he stood; and explains the mystery of their being risen again, exalted, and glorified along with him.

Thus, my brethren, our Lord led the disciples through the midst of those gospel truths, as a shepherd leads his flock through the most nourishing pastures. Meanwhile they cannot account for what is happening to them, and think they never before heard any one speak with such power, depth, and clearness. Astonished, they look at one another, then measure their companion again with their eyes, as though they had some misgiving of the veil which enveloped him, and would gladly, if they could, pierce through it. A very little more would make them fling their arms, with tears of joy, round the neck of this wonderful man; but then again such awe and veneration overpowers them, that they almost prostrate themselves at his feet. “0 Cleopas!” says the one to the other, “If I did not see him, and if 1 only heard him speak, 1 should think he was our Master; for he who illumined our souls with such sunbeams, and whoever kindled such fire in our hearts, but the incomparable One, whose loss we now mourn?” Each moment their souls become clearer and brighter; the mist of their prejudice and erring conceptions is dispelled, and star after star shines forth in what had previously been utter darkness. As their hearts burn within them, their courage rises, their withered hopes once more become green, and the prospects around them brighten. Their sensations indeed cannot be described; it seems as though a curtain were rolled away from their eyes, disclosing a new world, and as though they heard harmonies and heavenly melodies such as their souls could not even have imagined. “And must he indeed have suffered!” say they in their hearts; “Did he stand in our stead, and take upon him the weight of our guilt! Then all that which passed at his death was necessary, and agreed with the eternal plan and counsel of God, as manifested in the Scriptures! Only” the proclamation on the part of the Father were then wanting, that the Son has perfected his work. There is still one link which we miss, in the wonderful chain of events that have taken place for our salvation, and that link is the last — the resurrection and glorification of our Representative, But what if this also has really taken place; for has it not been proved to us that it must necessarily follow? If Jesus should prove to be already crowned! — indeed it is quite possible; for the woman may have spoken the truth; and it may have been the herald of Christ’s triumph who accosted him at the grave. Cleopas, suppose he should suddenly appear to us, — the living and the glorious One! — 0 happiness! We should then be free of our cares for ever; we should be raised from the dead, and exalted in the person of our Master, and then for the first time be conscious of all we possess in Jesus!” Thus, my brethren, glimpses of light such as these may have darted a fleeting illumination through the hearts of the two disciples. Without the twilight of the Easter world was beginning to dawn in their souls, and made them happy once more. If Jesus had now appeared to them they would indeed have known all they possessed in him; they would no- longer have regarded him as a phantom, or as a mysterious appearance, but as a man whom they knew and understood, for they now would view him in the clear and brilliant light of the sure word of prophecy.

VI. “Did not our heart burn within us, while he talked with us by the way, and while he opened to us the Scriptures?” These are the word-i in which the two disciples afterwards described their sensations, while listening to their unknown companion. And, my brethren, have not we also felt this burning of the heart, while our Saviour has been visiting us? His tongue is like a lance of fire to probe our inmost souls, and sparks and flames issue from his lips. Do you not remember how for a time we went about hungering and thirsting, not knowing well what we sought, and being unable to describe the good which we wished to reach? Then Jesus came and accosted us, but we knew not that it was he. He said unto us, “Why are ye so grieved and cast down?” while at the moment that lie questioned us he helped us to answer; he showed us the state of our own heart, explained the nature of our vague longing, and then declared to us the words of Moses. Do you still remember how he led us around Sinai and Ebal? The mountains of the law were enveloped in clouds; it thundered and lightened, and the voice of the great trumpet penetrated our very souls! It was then he told us of his Father, that he was all-holy, and terrible as a consuming fire. What a sermon that was! We beheld the King of kings upon his great and glorious throne, and we trembled before him. When he uttered the first low whisper concerning our sins, how heavy and sorrowful we became — sorrowful as we had never been before! And when he then began to explain the mystery of the cross, and to unfold the Scriptures, how the scales fell from our eyes! We felt as though the fragrance of flowers were wafted around us, and as if the portals of the clouds were opening, disclosing to us a new and blissful world of light. Oh! how much have we yet to relate concerning those important days, when our Lord first began to teach us when he first whispered to our souls, and in gentle accents strove to awaken it from its sleep of death! We knew not then who it was that spake with us; we sat at the feet of a Gamaliel, but how great a one we little knew.

How can we describe the feelings which we then experienced! Weil may we exclaim with the disciples, “Did not our heart burn within us, while he talked with us by the way?” Yet some have felt this burning of the heart in one way, some in another. One may describe his feelings in this manner:” At that time it seemed as though I solemnized the christian festivals in my soul. It was Christmas; 1 beheld the Babe lying in a manger, and with my spiritual ears heard the angels singing; then I bent my knees with the wise men; but I only did it partially, and did not prostrate myself in the dust. My heart burned within me, and there surely was a prayer in my soul; but I knew not yet how to worship the Child; I required first to become a child myself. I now beheld our Lord’s passion: I was in Gethsemane during the awful night; I did not sleep with the disciples, but watched with the Redeemer, heard his prayers, and beheld his sufferings. When he exclaimed, O my Father, if it be possible!’ how my heart burned within me! I perceived a great mystery, but the key was wanting; for I was not yet regenerated. Still I could not let the cross out of my sight; and it was clear to me that he was more than a prophet, more than a martyr, and more than a hero, who now died for truth. My heart burned while on Mount Golgotha; and I could almost have cried out with the centurion, ‘Truly this man was the

Son of God!’ and gladly, had I had courage, would I have exclaimed with the dying thief, ‘Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom!’ I then walked in Joseph’s garden on the third day, beheld the rocks burst asunder, and saw the Conqueror of death issuing from the tomb. O how my heart burned within me? — I perceived more than a gardener! — I called out, with Magdalene, ‘Rabboni!’ But I did not say with Thomas, ‘My Lord, and my God!’ No, I was still unable to do so; for though great anticipations of Easter stirred through my soul, they were indistinct and uncertain. The Easter world lying before me was still enveloped in mist; nevertheless there was a vague and half-understood voice whispering in my heart, 1 Here, little bark, tossed upon the stormy waves, thou maycst cast anchor!’ Then I went to the Mount of Olives, and beheld the Lord of glory ascending into heaven. Never before had my heart burned within me as it did now; I felt as though I had wings, and were ascending also. Heavenly Magnet, it was thy first and all-powerful attraction; still I did not anticipate that of which I am now certain, that thou wilt one day actually take me along with thee! I then solemnized Pentecost, and the burning of my heart was but an unconscious longing for the fulfilment of the promises that we should pass from death unto life, receive the dew from on high, and that the Spirit should descend upon us!” This then is the way in which some may describe the budding and germing of their spiritual life. — Now let us return to our two wanderers.

VII. Our disciples, have reached their goal, and

Emmaus lies before them. How short has their three hours’ journey seemed! — Still engaged in the most interesting conversation with the Stranger, they are about to turn into the peaceful little village, surrounded so beautifully with vine-covered hills; when suddenly their companion stops short, and seems about to take leave of them. “How!” say the disciples, “mean you to go farther? — indeed this must not be!” Their hearts are already bound up in this man, and they cannot bear to part with him; if he go, it seems as though he would carry their very souls along with him. They had felt on the road that if he were not their Master, he was at least his living picture, and in looking at him they seemed to behold the twilight dawn of their risen Lord’s approach. His conversation, in its effects upon them, resembled the rosy glimmer of the morning red, which, before the sun is visible, gilds the highest points of the mountains, and though not the sun itself, yet announces the approach and the speedy appearance of the king of heaven. Their hearts live already in an Easter world,, although with fear and trembling, for they do not dare to allow themselves wholly to believe it; and the question whether they are awake or dreaming is not yet decided; though it must be so should this wonderful Stranger remain.

We now see these two agitated men standing before him, and holding him back with their hands. “No!” say they, with the utmost earnestness, “thou must not travel farther to-day: remain this night with us! Dost thou not see it is already evening, and the day is far spent; therefore remain, remain! If thou goest, theip alas! we shall sit down again in despair, and mourn and weep anew. On the contrary, shouldst thou remain, how happy we should be in our intercourse with thee, and how wonderfully consoled! for we are certain thou canst tell us more about Christ, and dispel the clouds from our souls. 0 then, remain! Although we have only an humble cottage, yet remember thou art welcome! surely love will make up for all that is awanting!” Thus spoke the two disciples; and much more would they have said, had they expressed all that they felt in their hearts. They are tied to the mysterious Stranger by inexplicable chains; and it is only when they seem about to part that they begin to feel them.

Let us now look back to our own journey towards Emmaus, at the moment when our unknown Companion asked us, “Wherefore are ye so sad?” and when we were enabled to reply through our tears, “Lord, we mourn for our sins!” Our situation then resembled that of the disciples at the gate of their little city; with both hands we held him back, and besought him with prayers and tears to remain. “But it is not merely, “Remain with us!” that we say! it is, “Come, Lord Jesus!” And how much does the word “Come!” express, when the long dream of our own righteousness and strength begins to be interrupted, the day of our natural security and peace with ourselves is about to close, and the evening of sorrow is overcasting the soul! The words, “Come, Lord Jesus!” will then neither permit us to slumber through the night, nor be silent during the day. On the wings of desire our souls seem to arise from amidst the tumult of life; and waking or sleeping, we cease not to stretch out our hands towards our Saviour. Oh! how impatient does this little word “Come!” sound, and how perseveringly do we utter it! We weary not, and nothing can terrify us, or make us silent: boldly it penetrates the clouds, and stops not until it has attained its object. When this word “Come!” is repeated again and again in our hearts, it is as the voice of a new life; and where the cry is heard, “Come, Lord Jesus I” then indeed the day is far spent; already- it is evening; and soon may we expect the morning when the sun will appear.

VIII. The Stranger now accedes to the request of the two friends. He will’fhen remain. “0 Cleopas!” cries Nathanael, “this is indeed most glorious! What an evening we shall spend!” But Cleopas is already away; he has run on before, to announce the arrival of a guest in his cottage, and to prepare for him a friendly reception. The Guest follows with Nathanael, and is welcomed with the most heartfelt joy at the door of their humble dwelling.

It is the hour of the evening meal; a simple repast is served, and the Guest is invited to partake. They go to table, and the Stranger takes upon himself the duties of the master of the house. “Formerly,” think the disciples, “our beloved Master did the same;” and sorrowful reminiscences pass through their souls. Their Guest now rises from his seat, and they along Tvith him. How often did their Lord stand thus in the midst of them! He raises up his eyes to heaven in the attitude of prayer. Thus Jesus was accustomed to look to his Father! The Guest begins to pray. “My God! what voice is this?” He breaks the bread: the disciples gaze at one another in astonishment. “Cleopas, where are we?” — He reaches it to them. Wherefore now do ye not take it? Cleopas! Nathanael! are ye both in a dream? Ye seem not to know whether ye are awake or asleep. Who is it that is standing before you 1 Who is the man that is now offering you bread? Look at his countenance; — is what ye see real, or is it a deception? “Ah! it is indeed his face! — these are his eyes! — Look, Cleopas, look! — see how clear and distinct it is becoming! — his heavenly features! — and the wounds on his hands! — he smiles to us! — O heaven! — It is indeed He! — It is our Lord, risen from the dead?” Now, indeed, those happy ones at length see clearly; — there he stands, beautiful, in his Easter glory, in the full splendour of his triumph, — of his new and immortal life! Trembling and pale, from mingled emotions of astonishment and joy, the disciples stand for some moments fixed and immovable; gazing upon him as though they would impress his image in their souls for ever. Then their knees begin to shake, and they prostrate themselves in the dust, to worship the all-glorious One, and cover his feet with their kisses and their tears of joy; when suddenly, like the lightning which darts from the clouds and as quickly disappears, the beloved form vanishes from their eyes: but the heaven of peace and happiness which he disclosed to them still remains behind in their hearts, and the Easter sun has risen upon them in all its splendour.

My brethren, scenes similar to those which took place in Emmaus happen daily in Zion; for the joy of Easter did not terminate along with the forty days. Oh! what delight we experienced when Jesus suddenly unveiled all the sympathy and love of his compassionate heart to our weeping eyes! What happiness in those evening hours, while we believed him afar off, when suddenly we heard the salutation of peace issuing from his beloved lips, when he comforted our timid souls, and when we distinctly heard him say, “Fear not, I have redeemed thee, and called thee by thy name, for thou art mine!” When God enabled us to behold our justification in his perfect sacrifice of himself, to reckon ourselves among those blessed ones who are born again into everlasting life, to rest upon the bosom of Jesus, and to cry with the Psalmist, “My soul shall be joyful in the Lord: it shall rejoice in his salvation!” then was there a repetition of the scene at Emmaus; and that heaven which disclosed itself to the two disciples was manifested also to us. It was to this goal that the words, “Come, Lord Jesus!” led us; and who is there that does not wish to hear this “Come!” sounding in his heart?

IX. The two disciples are transported with wonder and joy; sobbing they fling themselves into each other’s arms, and can scarcely find speech, so great is their emotion. “O Cleopas!” cries the one, “who could have thought it! Happy, happy are we that we have seen him again! But how did we not sooner recognise him? Is it not wonderful that the burning of our hearts within us did not betray him, while he talked with us by the way, and expounded to us the Scriptures?” No, ye pilgrims, it was not wonderful: men are always more sharp-sighted and more acute, on looking back to what is past, than when it has been happening. The words, “Surely the Lord is in this place, and I knew it not!” have been repeated a thousand times in the lives of Christians, when they first beheld the light of eternity streaming across their appointed path, and dissipating its gloom.

We can easily perceive why our risen Lord so quickly withdrew himself from the eyes of his happy disciples. They were not henceforward to live in the enjoyment of his human presence; on the contrary, they were to exist in those blissful conceptions which his speech and conversation had caused to enter their hearts. They now knew all that they possessed in their blessed Master, since his resurrection from the dead. It was not vague anticipations and indistinct emotions which his re-appearance excited within them; on the contrary, it was bright and glorious ideas raising them up to heaven. They had lost a beloved Friend and Master, to find him again as a pledge and representative with the Father. It was a Prophet mighty in word and deed whom they had laid in the grave, to be restored to them on Easter day as a great Head, with whom we, the members, are joined together in one perfect body. In Him they beheld themselves raised from the dead, justified and glorified; and a nearer intercourse with him in his early human form might have prevented them viewing him in this spiritual light, and weakened their consciousness of the mysterious union between him and themselves. Had he remained with them, they might have retraced their steps from the glorious point of gospel illumination which they had now attained, to the lower one of knowing him only after the flesh; and in the excess of their joy at beholding him near once more, they might have forgotten that mystical connexion between them, the contemplation of which formed their happiness and peace. Their Lord had only appeared to them in order to convince them of the reality of his resurrection; henceforward they must live in Christ as their Representative and their Head, and not view him as such with their bodily eyes, but with the eyes of the Spirit, and by means of faith.

The happy disciples meanwhile have left us; borne on the wings of joy, they rush along their mountain path, until they reach their brethren at Jerusalem, to astonish them with their glorious intelligence. Happy, happy pilgrims! well may they be termed blessed! But whosoever envies their joy, let him remember that their history is not an isolated and extraordinary occurrence; on the contrary, it is but a picture of what happens in the lives of many Christians. The Man who accosted the wanderers, and joined them on the way, is no other than he who gave us the assurance, “Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world!” Although Emmaus may have disappeared from the earth, yet Thousands of similar places have been made by the words of Jesus, “Behold, I stand at the door and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me!”

O then may this history become our own experience, and may the past be transformed into the vivid present! Let us not content ourselves with the enjoyment which the contemplation of these Easter scenes afford. They are not mere objects to delight the eye: on the contrary, they are symbolical pictures, delineated over the portal of a new and more glorious time, expressing deeply, yet significantly, the manner in which Jesus acts upon the souls of his chosen ones. They were not formed merely to be retained in silence in the chambers of our memory and imagination; no, they were intended to exercise an influence upon the whole circle of our feelings and experiences. After looking upon them, we must turn our eyes upwards unto Him, who is as near to us as he was to the two disciples on the mountain path; and we must cry, “Lord God of our fathers! accompany us also this day!” When this ejaculation mounts to heaven on the wings of faith and love, we do most surely receive an answer. Then each house among us becomes like the cottage at Ernmaus, and each heart is a temple of Easter peace; the festival is never-ending, and we cry out, enraptured,” The Lord is risen indeed! — Hosanna in the highest!’’