Companions on the Way -- Luke 24:13-35 (3rd Sunday in Easter)
- Scott Clark
- 1 day ago
- 10 min read
Photo credit: Jan Canty, used with permission via Unsplash
The Resurrection stories offer different glimpses of how – in those first few days – of how folks experienced the Risen Christ. This morning’s Scripture is the story of how two disciples recognize the Risen Christ in the breaking of the bread.[1] They recognize Jesus in that thing that they did with him all the time – recline at table together and eat. In their long travels with Jesus, they have seen him welcome to the table those whom the world keeps away. They have heard him tell stories that make everyone at the table uncomfortable. They have watched him break bread again and again – table after table. So, of course, that’s when they know it is Jesus – alive in the world – in the breaking of the bread. It is dramatic –the whole story builds to that moment.
This year, though, as I have read the story, I’m drawn to a different moment – earlier in the story – right at the very beginning – as we come upon these two disciples – who have only three days before witnessed the crucifixion – as we come upon them – out on this road – walking and talking. Sorting things out. As they walk and talk, they experience the Risen Christ in the gentle and poignant rhythms of sharing this journey together – companions on the way.
To be sure, this is not the first time these two have walked and talked together. The disciples have been doing this disciple thing for three years now. Maybe these two have known each even other longer. Some of the disciples have known each other from birth. There are several sets of brothers who are named. There are the siblings Mary, Martha, and Lazarus. The two disciples on this road, they could be husband and wife – one of them is named (Cleopas), the other is not named (as women in the Bible sometimes are – not named).[2]These two – they have been companions on the way for some time now.
However long they have known each other, as followers of Jesus, they have shared lots of life. They’ve listened to Jesus teach – heard him tell the same old stories again and again – as companions often do. They’ve seen the miracles – managed the crowds that have gathered and followed along. At least once, they’ve miraculously found enough food for those crowds to eat –bread and fish, for 5,000 and more.
Jesus has sent them out on their own two by two. So they’ve been companions on the way – just the two of them – finding their own way -- stopping at strangers’ homes, asking for someplace to stay – sleeping under the stars in the desert on those nights when they couldn’t find welcoming shelter. (When you travel like that with someone, you get to know them pretty well – the good, the not so good, and all those in-between moments. You know what each other looks like when you wake up in the morning.) Maybe they’ve shared some hunger along the way, bandaged each other’s blistered feet.
Over at least three years as companions on the way, they’ve probably had their moments – it’s just human to disagree now and then. The gospels catch the disciples arguing over who is the greatest – over who gets to sit next to Jesus at supper.
And then there was the week that has led to this moment – Holy Week. Maybe these were the two disciples to whom Jesus turned and said, “Go get me a donkey, so I can ride into town.” OR, “Go get us an Upper Room for our Passover dinner – set the table and prepare the feast.” They’ve shared the work, done uncomfortable and difficult things for Jesus.
And, in one week, it has all come crashing down. Just a few days ago, Jesus was arrested and crucified. When things got tough – when the soldiers came, these two, they saw each other run into the night. They know that each other fled – and they know that each other knows. They carry that regret – that remorse – together. “I could have done more, and this person walking at my side, they know I could have done more – we could have.”
These two, they have been companions on the way for some time now – through a lot of life – through all these things that have happened in Jerusalem. And so after the soldiers nail Jesus to the cross, after Jesus breathes his last – reeling from that trauma – bewildered and grieving – they do what we do. They seek each other out. They have run, but now they have found their way back to each other. And when they find each other, maybe they embrace; maybe they weep; maybe they sit together in silence. They companion each other, out of whatever has just happened, into whatever happens next.
They show us the heart of what it is to be human. We are made for life in relationship. We are not in this life alone. That is the blessing and the challenge that undergirds the whole of Scripture. We are created for life lived together. Scripture tells the story of how, for better or worse, we live that out together, with each other and with God.
We are made for life in relationship. That’s something that science also confirms. Evolutionary biologists tell us that we’ve survived as a species – not because of physical strength – but because of our human capacity to connect with each other – to exchange ideas, to share information and emotions, to cooperate and collaborate in life.[3] We are “wired for connection.”[4]
We live out our humanity in relationships – in family, and friendship, and community. As Robin Dunbar describes it – we live that out with a circle of a few closest friends and family, and then a broader circle of acquaintances, and then a broader circle of looser connection.[5]Even those weaker ties are important because they are part of what makes us human. This connection – this companionship – continues to be one of the ways we not only survive, but thrive – it is one of a leading determinants of good health. We are made for life in relationship.
That’s what these two disciples are living out on this road to Emmaus – in their walking and talking along the way.
And here’s the research that I’ve been waiting for my whole life. Studies show that... talking is good for us. (I knew it!) Maryellen MacDonald has written a book that summarizes that research: More Than Words: How Talking Sharpens the Mind and Shapes the World[6].Studies show that talking helps our brains – it helps us focus attention; it helps us name, regulate, and better understand our emotions; it helps bring clarity in times of emotional turmoil.[7] It helps us come to understand new experiences, even those that seem unimaginable. When we talk things out, talking helps us take that new information – connect it with the experiences we’ve already had, what we already know, the emotions we are feeling now – and make meaning of and in the world. And we do this together. As we take turns in conversation – we give each other space for our brains to do this connecting – this meaning making – in this give and take – back and forth.
These two disciples on the road to Emmaus – their experience of the Risen Christ culminates in that moment when Jesus breaks bread. But it begins in that moment after their shared trauma at the crucifixion – after they have fled into the night – in that moment when they find each other, embrace, and ask each other: What just happened? Are you OK? Their experience of the Risen Christ then unfolds as they walk and talk along that road to Emmaus – that road that heads out of this trauma toward and into the rest of their life. They experience the Risen Christ in one of the most fundamental expressions of what it is to be human – human companionship – sharing life’s journey – walking and talking – companions on the way.
And look how that comes to life here:
There they are on the road to Emmaus – walking and talking – and (1) Jesus comes alongside them and joins the conversation. They’re out on the dusty road – a journey of at least 7 miles – with plenty of time to talk. And Jesus companions them – Jesus invites them into conversation – to talk things out: “What are you discussing as you walk along?”
Jesus companions them – notice also that (2) they companion Jesus – they welcome this stranger. The premise of the story is that they don’t know who this is. And even so – out on the open road – where travelers are vulnerable to thieves and brigands – they welcome a stranger – to share the journey.
And they talk. Notice that (3) what opens up is a risky conversation.[8] This is less than 72 hours since the crucifixion. Some disciples are hiding, in fear of the religious authorities and the Roman soldiers. The powers may still be hunting down this Jesus movement. These two companions have no idea who this guy is – and yet, they share with him – the worst things that have happened and who they are (friends of the one who was crucified – “we had hoped that he would overthrow the powers.”) They share those things even though saying those things, talking through those things, comes at great risk. They are vulnerable with each other.
And notice (4) that risky conversation culminates in an invitation to take shelter together and to recline at table together. The Risen Christ is heading on into what will come next – and yet these two, invite them into what is their home – or possibly a safe house in a dangerous world: “Stay with us for it is nearly evening, and the day is almost over.”
“And when he was at the table with them, he took bread, gave thanks, broke it and began to give it to them.” And their eyes are opened – they recognize the Risen Christ and then he’s gone, and... they talk it out: “Were not our hearts burning within us while he talked with us on the road?” They recognize Jesus, alive in the world, the one who has companioned them on the way – on the road to Emmaus, and long before that, and on the road to all that will happen next.
In this Easter season, we are paying attention to the ways that the Risen Christ is alive in the world. The Risen Christ is alive in the world in those experiences that make us most human – here, in the sustaining rhythm of human companionship – sharing life’s journey – walking and talking – companions on the way.
There are so many ways that we can live that out this week.
If you want, you may just want to start by spending more time with this story – read it again – bringing your imagination to the experience. As you enter into this story: Where are you in the story? What might you say in that conversation? What might you ask?
You could talk it out. It’s one of the best ways to take an experience and learn. You could write down what you’re thinking – that’s a form of self-talk. This is what this story means to me. Or, if you want, you can email me – just a couple sentences: Here is what this story meant to me. This is what I saw. I will read it, and write back.
Or maybe, move through the world this week, pausing now and again and asking yourself: How is Christ alive in the world – here, in this moment?
In a conversation with a friend, or an acquaintance –
or in someone you meet along the way –
or in your first glimpse of sunlight on a brand new day –
or at the end of the day, as shadows lengthen and evening falls – looking back over the experiences of the day.
How is Christ alive in the world – here, in this moment?
Or, maybe we can just move through the world open to the possibility of human connection and companionship and how, in encountering each other – and those we meet along the way – we might help each other become even more alive.
In all the reading that I do for these sermons, every once in a while I run across a sentence, that is beautiful with truth. Here’s how Margaret Aymer – biblical scholar, Dean at Austin Seminary, and a companion on the way – here’s how Margaret Aymer puts it when she writes about this story of the road to Emmaus: “Luke’s story [of these companions on the Road to Emmaus] reminds us that our relationship with the resurrected Christ is a relationship of long walks, risky conversations, reframed traumas, and quiet dinners – an intimate relationship – with Christ and with each other – an intimate relationship of words shared and bread broken.”[9]
May all that truth be alive in the life we live together,
companions on the way.
© 2026 Scott Clark
[1] For background on this scripture and the Gospel of Luke, see Margaret P. Aymer, Commentary in Connections, Year A, vol. 2 (Louisville, KY; Westminster John Knox Press, 2019), pp.236-38; Margaret Aymer, Commentary on Working Preacher, at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/third-sunday-of-easter/commentary-on-luke-2413-35-11 ; R. Alan Culpepper, “The Gospel of Luke,” New Interpreters’ Bible Commentary, vol. ix (Nashville, TN: Abingdon Press, 1995); Justo L. González, Luke (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010); Sharon Ringe, Luke (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1995).
[2] See Aymer, pp.236-37.
[3] See Vivek H. Murthy, Together: The Healing Power of Human Connection in a Sometimes Lonely World (New York, NY: Harper Collins, 2020), 27-32, discussing the research of John Cacioppo.
[4] Id.
[5] Id. pp.220-26. To hear Professor Dunbar discuss these circles of connection, give a listen to “The Science of Making and Keeping Friends” with Dan Harris on the Ten Percent Happier podcast, https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/10-happier-with-dan-harris/id1087147821?i=1000536756330
[6] Maryellen MacDonald, More Than Words: How Talking Sharpens the Mind and Shapes the World (New York, NY: Avery Publishing, 2025). For a discussion of her work, you can listen to her conversation with Dan Harris on the Ten Percent Happier podcast, https://www.danharris.com/p/the-science-of-talking-boost-your
[7] See id.
[8] See Aymer, Working Preacher, supra.
[9] See Aymer, Working Preacher, supra.
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