He Is Risen, But Do We Recognize Him?

​It was that same day. The day he had risen. Two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem. They were talking with each other about everything that had happened. As they talked and discussed these things with each other, Jesus himself came up and walked along with them; but they were kept from recognizing him.

I always wonder about that part. It doesn’t say they refused to see him. It doesn’t say Jesus hid from them. It just says they were kept from recognizing him.

What kept them from seeing him?

What keeps ME from seeing him?

Maybe it's sorrow. Disappointment. Exhaustion from long prayers that haven't been answered the way I hoped they would be. Maybe it's fear or chaos or all this inner-turmoil. Or maybe it’s just the fog of life, where I'm so consumed by everything out there that I miss the one who is still walking right beside me.

Right here.

It’s easy to celebrate Easter as an event. A date on the calendar. An empty tomb we proclaim with sunrise services and bright music all the while boldly proclaiming: “He is risen!”

But what if resurrection isn’t something we’re meant to just celebrate, what if it’s something we’re invited to recognize? Because it’s possible to proclaim Jesus is risen… and still not see him.

It’s possible to walk seven miles with him and mistake him for a stranger.

It can be the darkest side of Easter—not that Jesus was crucified, but that we miss him entirely once he is risen. That we might live our lives never realizing how close he’s been the whole time.

The two on the road finally recognized Jesus, not in the walking, not even in the talking, but in the breaking of bread. In a small, ordinary moment that suddenly became sacred.

And maybe that’s the point.

Maybe we don’t need mountaintop miracles or burning bush revelations. Maybe all we need is a quiet meal, a prayer, a long hike, a moment of honest vulnerability where our hearts and minds are open to seeing him.

And then we see him, the one who has been with us all along.

It's then that Easter becomes real, not just because the tomb was empty two thousand years ago - but because Jesus still walks with us today.

So, I’m asking myself this Easter morning, and I invite you to ask it too:

Where might Jesus be walking with me right now?

And more importantly…

Do I recognize him?