The distribution of the bread;
The discovery;
And the disappearance.
'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.'
I. Look, then, for a moment or two at the thoughts which I think are
intended to be conveyed to us by that first point--the action of
breaking and distributing the bread.
I have said, incidentally, in my previous remarks, that there is a
singular air of remoteness, removedness, mystery, reticence, about
our Lord's relations to His disciples in the interval of these forty
days; and I suppose that that change from the frankness of His
former relations and the close contact in which the Apostles and
disciples had been brought during all the previous three years--I
suppose that that was intended to be the beginning of the
preparation of weaning and preparing them to do without Him
altogether. And along with that removedness, there is also, as I
take it, and as I have already said, a great depth of significance
about the whole of these events which lead people to deal with them
as being symbols, types, exhibitions on a material platform of great
spiritual truths; and although the habit of finding symbolical
meaning in historical events, especially as applied to the Gospels,
has been full of all manner of mischief, yet that there is that
element is not to be denied; and whilst we have to keep it down and
be very careful in our application of it, lest in finding ingenious
fanciful meanings, we lose the plain prose, which is always the best
and the most important, yet that element is there, and we have to
take heed that we do not push the denial of it to excess, as the
recognition of it has often been pushed. And so, from these two
points of view. I think the thing should be looked at. The plain
prose, then, of the matter is this--that at a given point in this
humble road-side meal, our Lord having been guest, having been
constrained to enter in by the loving importunity of these people,
becomes the host, takes upon Himself the position of the head of the
household, and in that position so acts as to bring to the disciples'
remembrance former deeds of miracles, and the institution of the
ordinance of the Lord's Supper, and that was the means of their
recognition.
Well, then, if so, I think that we may say fairly that in this
breaking and distribution of the bread, there is first of all this
lesson--the old familiar blessed intercourse between Him and them
had not been put an end to then by all that had passed during these
three mysterious days; but they were as they used to be in regard to
the closeness of their relationship and the reality of their
intercourse. No doubt, in the former years, Christ had been in the
habit of always acting as the Head of the little family. When they
gathered for their frugal meals, He was the master, they the
disciples; He the elder brother, and they gathered about Him. And He
assumes the old position; and if we will try for a moment to throw
ourselves into their position and to see with their eyes, we shall
understand the pathetic beauty--I was going to say the poetic
beauty, but perhaps you would not like that word to be applied to
the history of our Redeemer--the pathetic beauty of the deed. They
had been thinking of themselves as forsaken of Him; the grave had
broken off all their sweet and blessed intercourse; they were alone
now. 'We trusted that it had been He which should have redeemed
Israel.' He is gone! Even the poor consolation of looking upon the
place where He lies is denied us; for whatever may be doubtful this
is certain, that the grave is open and the body is not there. And so
they felt lost and scattered; and there comes to them this gleam of
consolation--I take my place amongst you just as I used to do; 'I am
He that liveth and was dead, and behold, I am alive for evermore.'
We used to sit together at the table; let that be repeated here once
more that you may learn, and all the world through you may learn,
that the accident of death, which affects only the externals of
society, has no power over the reality of the bond that knits even
two human hearts with love together, still less a power over the
reality of the bond that binds us to our Master. Death vanishes as a
nothing in their intercourse; they stand where they were; the
fellowship is unbroken; the society is the same; all that there used
to be of love and friendship, of peaceful concord, of true
association; it abides for ever!
Thus, heavy with meaning and full of immortal hope may be the
simplest act wrought with the simplest materials, when the dead
Christ who lives takes His old place in the midst of His disciples,
and once again as He used to do, parts the bread between them. And,
dear brethren, though it has nothing to do with my present purpose,
may this thought not add a wider application to our text; may it not
be a comfort and hope to many of us to remember that the grim shadow
that stretches athwart our path, and gathers into its blackness so
many of our sunny sparkling joys, and takes the light and the
movement and the colour out of them, is only a shadow, and that the
substance lives in the shadow as it used to live in the sunshine,
and passes through the shadow and comes out on the other side,
blazing in more than its former lustre, and rich with more than its
former preciousness? For all whom we have loved and lost, the death
which was a nothing in regard to Christ's intercourse with His
disciples, is a nothing, too, in regard to our real intercourse and
sense of society and unity with them. They live in Him, and they are
more worthy to be loved than ever they were before. He who has
conquered Death for Himself has conquered it for us all; and every
true and pure human affection rooted in Him is as immortal as the
love that binds souls to Himself. Therefore, let us remember that
they sit at His table, and that we shall sit there some day too.
II. Well, then, still further, another idea that I think belongs to
this first part of our thoughts as to the profound significance of our
Lord's here assuming the office and function of host, is this--we are
thereby taught the same lesson that we are taught by His institution
of the Communion, and taught by the whole details of His relation to
His disciples upon earth--that the true idea of the relation which
results from Him and His Presence is that of the Family.
He takes His place at the head of the table; He is the Lord of the
household, though it be but a household of two men, and they belong
to the family and the society which He founds. Now it seems to me
that next to the great lesson which the Lord's Supper teaches us in
reference to our individual dependence upon Him, His death as being
all our hope and all our life, this is the most important lesson
that it teaches--the simplicity of the rite, the fact that it was
based upon the Jewish rite, which was a purely domestic one; the
fact that our Lord steps into the place of the head of the household
by His very presiding at the Passover service amongst His disciples;
the fact that He parts the common materials of the common meal and
uses them and it as the symbols of His death, and of our life
thereby--all that teaches us the same thing which the whole strain
of His teaching and the whole strain of the New Testament sets
forth--that the Church of Christ is then understood when we think of
it as being one family in Him, bound together by the bands of a
close brotherhood, relying upon Him as the fountain of its life;
having fellowship with one Father through that elder Brother;
pledged, therefore, to all fraternal kindness and frankness of
communion and of mutual help, and gladdened by the hope of
journeying onwards to Him. We cannot, of course, apply the analogy
round and round; but of all the forms of human association which
Christ has honoured and glorified by laying His hand upon them, and
showing that they are symbols of the society that He founds, and of
which He is the centre, it is not the kingdom, but the family that
is the nearest approach to the Church of the living God.
And you and I, Christian men and women, if we come and sit at that
table of our Lord, let us remember that we thereby declare, not only
for ourselves that we enter into individual relations of reliance
upon Him, and draw our life from Him, but that we pledge ourselves
to the family bond, to be true to the brotherhood, that we declare
ourselves the sons of God and the brethren of all that are partakers
of the like precious faith. The thing has become a word, a name
amongst us. I wonder if any of you remember the bitter saying of one
of our modern teachers; he says that he found out somehow or other
how much less 'brethren' in the Church meant than 'brothers' out of
it. Let us learn the lesson and take the rebuke, and remember that
if the Lord's Supper means anything, it means that we belong to the
household of faith, and are members of the great family in heaven
and in earth.
III. Well, then, still further connected with this first idea of the
lesson and significance of the distribution of the bread, I think we
may take another consideration, which is, in fact, only another
application of the one I have already been suggesting--Where Christ
is invited as a guest, He becomes the host.
They constrained Him to abide with them; they made Him welcome to
their rude hospitality. It was little--a hut where poor men lay, a
bit of barley-bread. But it was theirs, and they gave it Him; and He
entered in and supped with them, and then, in the middle of it, the
relations were inverted, and they that had been showing the
hospitality became the guests, and the table that had been theirs
became His. 'And He took the bread and gave it to them.' You have
the same inversion of relation in that first miracle that He wrought
at Cana of Galilee, where invited as a guest, at a point in the
entertainment He provides the supplies for the further conduct of
it. You remember the words which contain the spiritual application
of the same thought--'Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If any
man open the door, I will enter in and sup with him and he with Me.'
To put away the metaphor, it amounts to this--our Master never comes
empty-handed. Where He is invited, He comes to bestow; where He is
welcomed, He comes with His gifts; where we say, 'Do Thou take what
I offer,' He says, 'Do thou take Myself.' All His requirements are
veiled promises; all His commandments are assurances of His gifts.
He bestows that He may receive; He seems to take that He may enrich.
They that give to Christ receive back again more than all that they
gave, according to the profound words, 'There is no man that hath
left father or mother, or wife or children, or houses or lands, for
My sake and the Gospel's, but shall receive a hundredfold more in
this life, and in the world to come life everlasting.' The Christ
that is asked to come in order to receive, abides in order to
bestow.
And then there is a second point, going on with the flow of this
little narrative before us, about which a word or two may be said.
The consequence of this assumption of the position of master, host,
bestower is--'Their eyes were opened, and they knew Him.' The
discovery of His person follows on the distribution of His gifts.
Now, there is one point to be remarked before I deal with the
lessons which I think are capable of being gathered from this part
of our subject, and that is, that this narrative gives no sort of
support, as it seems to me, to the ordinary notion that, subsequent
to the Resurrection, there had passed upon our Lord's corporeal
frame any change whatsoever as the commencement of the glorification
of His earthly body. If you observe, the course of the narrative
takes pains to point out to us distinctly, that whatever may have
been the reason why they did not recognise Him at first, that reason
was entirely in them, and not at all in Him. It is not that He was
changed; it is that 'their eyes were holden'; and when they did
recognise Him, it is not that any change whatsoever is recorded as
having passed upon Him, but 'their eyes were opened, and they knew
Him.' And the same thing may be said, as I believe, about the whole
of the appearances, mysterious as they were, of our Lord, in the
interval between the Resurrection and the Ascension. I do not think,
for my part, (although I would by no means speak with confidence
about a matter that is so fragmentarily dealt with in Scripture),
but I do not think, for my part, that the narrative gives any
support whatsoever to the idea of any change analogous to that which
takes place upon us at our resurrection, having begun to take place
upon our Lord so long as He remained upon earth. The Ascension and
the Resurrection of Jesus Christ, in His case, are parts of one
process. He was raised with the body with which He was crucified; He
ascended up on high, and there the glorification, as far as
Scripture teaches, is, I conceive, commenced. At all events, there
is nothing in our narrative to support the idea of an incipient
transformation having begun with the Resurrection.
But, passing by that, which has nothing to do with my main present
purpose, I may notice just one or two considerations in reference to
this discovery of our Lord. And the first and main one that I would
suggest is this--Where Christ is loved and desired, the veriest
trifles of common life may be the means of His discovery. We know not
what was the special point which brought dormant remembrance to life
again, and quickened the associations of the two, so that they knew
Jesus; even as we do not know what was the hindrance, whether
supernatural or whether by reason of their own fault, which prevented
the earlier recognition; but this at least we see, that in all
probability something in the manner of taking the bread and breaking
it, the well-remembered action of the Master, brought back to mind
the whole of the former relation, and a rush of associations and
memories pulled away the veil and scaled off the mists from their
eyes. And so, dear brethren, if we have loving, and waiting, and
Christ-desiring spirits, everything in this world--the common meal,
the events of every day, the most veritable trifles of our earthly
relationships--they will all have hooks and barbs, as it were, which
will draw after them thoughts of Him. There is nothing so small but
that to it there may be attached some filament which will bring after
it the whole majesty and grace of Christ and His love. Whether ye eat
or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all in remembrance of Him, and do
all to His glory. Oh, if we had in our inmost spirits a closer
fellowship with Him, and a truer relation to Him, we should be more
quick of apprehension. And, as in regard to those that we love, when
they are away from us, the fold of a garment, some bit of cloth lying
about the room, something upon the table, some common incident of the
day that used to be done in company with them, may bring a flood of
memories that sometimes is too strong for a weak heart, so with the
Lord, if we loved Him--everything would be (as it is to those whose
ears are purged) vocal with His name, and everything would be flushed
with the light that falls from His face, and everything would suffice
to remind us of our love, our hope, our joy. Especially let us
remember that He has entrusted--with strange humility and with
wonderful knowledge of us, and with the truest sympathy and tenderness
for our weakness--He has entrusted a large portion of our most
spiritual remembrance and recognition of Him to material things. Did it
ever strike you what a depth of what I may call Christ's condescension
there lay in this? 'Take this bread and this wine, and if you will not
remember Me because I loved you so well, if you will not remember Me
because I died for you, if earthly things and material realities will
drive Me out of your thoughts, at least remember Me because and when
earthly things and material realities become My agents and My
memorials. If you forget the Cross, perhaps a bit of bread will remind
you of Me; and I am not too proud to spurn the remembrance that roots
itself even in the material things of earth and by such means as that.'
'He took the bread and brake it.' They had listened to all His words
upon the road, and it never occurred to them who He was; they had walked
beside Him all day long, and even their burning hearts did not make them
suspect that it was the Master. It must needs be so--they whom wisdom
and truth and His spiritual Presence cannot teach to recognise, may be
led to recognise Him by the movement of His hands with the barley loaf,
and some intonation of His voice in blessing it. 'This do in remembrance
of Me' is the word of that deep pity that knows our frame and remembers
that we are dust, and is a word of the most marvellous condescension
that ever was uttered in human ears.
IV. And then there is the final consideration here upon which I
touch but for a moment. The distribution and the discovery are
followed by the disappearance of the Lord, 'They knew Him, and'--and
what? And He let their hearts run over in thankful words? No. 'They
knew Him,' and so they all went back to Jerusalem happy together?
No. 'They knew Him, and--He vanished out of their sight.' Yes, for
two reasons. First, because when Christ's Presence is recognised
sense may be put aside. 'It is expedient for you that I go away.'
You and I, dear brethren, need no visible manifestation; we have
lost nothing though we have lost the bodily Presence of our Master.
It is more than made up to us, as He Himself assures us, and as we
shall see ourselves if we think for a moment, by the clearer
knowledge of His spiritual verity and stature, by the deeper
experience of the profounder aspects of His mission and message, by
the indwelling Spirit, and by the knowledge of Him working evermore
for us all. His going is a step in advance. 'If I go not away the
Comforter will not come to you; but if I depart, I will send Him
unto you.' The earthly manifestation was only the basis and the
platform for that which is purer and deeper in kind, and more
precious and powerful; and when the platform has been laid, then
there is no need for the continuance thereof. And so, when He was
manifested to the heart He disappeared from the eyes; and we, who
have not beheld Him, stand upon no lower level than they who did,
for the voice of our experience is, 'Whom having not seen we love;
in whom, though now we see Him not, yet believing, we rejoice with
joy that is unspeakable and full of glory.'
And for another reason.--When Christ is discerned there is work to
be done. 'Their eyes were opened, and they knew Him, and He vanished
out of their sight; and ... they rose up that same hour; and
returned to Jerusalem' and said, He was known to us in breaking of
bread, and He talked with us by the way. Yes, the vision of Christ
binds us to work, and while the more close and intimate and silent
communion has its rights and its place in life, it is never to be
made a substitute for the active exercise of our Christian vocation
to bear witness of Him, and to tell His name to those who need the
consolation of His Resurrection, and the joyful news that He lives
to bless. So then that meal by the wayside may stand as type and
symbol of the way in which we, like the two pedestrians on the road
and at the table, may have heart intercourse with Jesus, and may be
impelled thereby to labour for Him.
There was another time, after the Resurrection, when in like manner
we read that our Lord took bread, and blessed and brake and gave it
to them; and that was in that mysterious meal upon the shores of the
Galilean Lake, which has always been recognised as having a
symbolical meaning--though the exposition and detail have often been
exaggerated and made absurd. In the one case it was two travellers
who met their Lord; it was in an inn that the recognition took
place; it was a brief moment of vision, followed by disappearance,
and the disappearance led on to work; but in the other story it was
when the morning broke that the Lord was manifest; it was after the
night of toil that His form appeared; His words to them were, 'Bring
of the fruits of your labours and lay them upon the beach at My
feet.' And in the light of the eternal morning, after the weary
night of toil, they who on earth in their journey and pilgrimage
have had Him walking with them as third in their sweet society, and
sitting with them in the tents and changeful residences of earth,
may expect to find Him waiting for them upon the shore; and, as one
says, 'It is the Lord!' and another dashes through the water to
reach Christ, the invitation to all of them will be, 'Come and sit
with Me at My table in My kingdom; I provide the meal, and you add
to it by that which you have caught.' 'They rest from their labours
and their works do follow them.' And so 'they go no more out, but
are ever with the Lord.'