This sermon was the inspiration for the sermon series to follow: at the beginning I wonder about whether the unnamed disciple (i.e. not Cleopas) on the road to Emmaus could have been a woman. Which later got me to thinking I need to spend some more time learning and preaching about the women who served as leaders in the Gospels and in the early church. Sermon series to follow!

--Rev. Stephanie Spitzer-Hanks, 3rd Sunday in Easter, 2026, Homer Congregational Church, United Church of Christ, Homer, New York

Hochhalter, Cara B.. On the Road to Emmaus, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=59269 [retrieved April 27, 2026]. Original source: Cara B. Hochhalter.

Luke 24:13-35, New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition
Now on that same day two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem, and talking with each other about all these things that had happened. While they were talking and discussing, Jesus himself came near and went with them, but their eyes were kept from recognizing him.
And he said to them, "What are you discussing with each other while you walk along?" They stood still, looking sad. Then one of them, whose name was Cleopas, answered him, "Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have taken place there in these days?"
He asked them, "What things?" They replied, "The things about Jesus of Nazareth, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, and how our chief priests and leaders handed him over to be condemned to death and crucified him. But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel. Yes, and besides all this, it is now the third day since these things took place.
"Moreover, some women of our group astounded us. They were at the tomb early this morning, and when they did not find his body there they came back and told us that they had indeed seen a vision of angels who said that he was alive. Some of those who were with us went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said, but they did not see him."
Then he said to them, "Oh, how foolish you are and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have declared! Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into his glory?" Then beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them the things about himself in all the scriptures.
As they came near the village to which they were going, he walked ahead as if he were going on. But they urged him strongly, saying, "Stay with us, because it is almost evening and the day is now nearly over." So he went in to stay with them.
When he was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him, and he vanished from their sight. They said to each other, "Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?"
That same hour they got up and returned to Jerusalem, and they found the eleven and their companions gathered together. They were saying, "The Lord has risen indeed, and he has appeared to Simon!" Then they told what had happened on the road and how he had been made known to them in the breaking of the bread.

Sermon Transcript

This morning I’m going to talk about how sometimes our expectations keep us from being able to see what is really happening, or maybe our expectations blind us to what could be possible.
How many of you, when Lori read this story to us, in your mind’s eye you pictured three men—Jesus and the two disciples—walking and talking along the road to Emmaus? (Don’t worry, I won’t make you raise your hands!)
The text names one of the disciples—Cleopas (which is a man’s name)—but the other disciple not only doesn’t get named, but Luke also never uses any singular pronouns in this passage. It’s always “they” when referring to both of the disciples together, but Luke never says “he” when referring to either of them.
So why did we (and I include myself here) assume it was a male disciple? We are not alone in this assumption—every artistic rendering of this story I could find showed two dudes walking with Jesus. I picked this image because it is at least a bit ambiguous. That center figure *could* be a woman.
And the truth is, that second disciple could just as easily have been a woman as a man. She could very plausibly be Cleopas’s sister, or wife.
After all, the 12 disciples *were* all men, but they were just a subset of a larger group of disciples, which definitely included women. Cleopas even mentions his female co-disciples in this passage: he said to Jesus, “some women *of our group* astounded us” with their news about how they had gone to the tomb that morning and found it empty.
So clearly, the Three Marys (Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of Jesus, and Mary of Clopas) were part of the group of disciples. Other female disciples named in the Gospels include: Joanna, Susanna, and the sisters at Bethany—Mary and Martha.
And then in the early church—there were several more women named as leaders in Acts and in Paul’s many letters. There was another Mary (the mother of John Mark), Priscilla, Chloe, Lydia, Apphia, Nympha, Euodia, Syntyche, and Junia—who were all mentioned by name as leaders in the church—and then there were the other women who were referred to by their relationships, such as the four daughters of Phillip, who were considered prophets.
So why did we assume both disciples on the road to Emmaus were men? Because that is what we expected to see.
Because it didn’t take too terribly long before the male leaders of the early church conformed to the cultural standards of their day and pushed the women aside, out of leadership roles. Because for most of Christian history it has been only men serving as pastors and priests.
Because some people pluck out from Paul’s letters—which he wrote to specific churches facing specific challenges—they pluck one or two verses that say that women should be silent in church. And they ignore all the other examples Paul gives of actual women *not being silent*—who were leaders of the church, whom he names in his letters, and of whom he speaks with respect and admiration.
So with all of that history behind us as well as the current practice in many other churches today being that women must be silent and submissive—it is completely understandable that we would not recognize that the second disciple could very well have been a woman.
———
But speaking of those two disciples, the question I have every single time I read this passage: How on earth could they not recognize Jesus?!? Like, how?!?
They are walking along, Jesus starts to overtake them (because of course Jesus is a speed walker). Jesus asks, “What are y’all talking about?”
And they are like, “Who are you, you total stranger?”
They have ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA who he is. These disciples. Of Jesus.
And they say, “We thought Jesus would be the messiah, the one who would come to redeem Israel (and through Israel, the whole world). But it turns out, we were wrong on that point, since he allowed the religious and political leaders to execute him three days ago.
“I mean, yeah, the women of our group have told us this wild tale about not finding his body in his tomb, and instead finding a bunch of angels who said that Jesus is alive. But how can that be? It is really too far fetched to be believed.”
That’s when Jesus calls them fools and then proceeds to give them a detailed theological discourse in which he walks them through every single instance in the Hebrew Law and Prophets that explains who the messiah is, specifically in relation to who Jesus is, and what his death really meant.
And still, through all of that, they had absolutely no idea who he was. Because they didn’t expect Jesus to show up like that. What they knew is that Jesus died three days ago. They expected that Jesus would stay dead. And can you blame them?
They didn’t expect that Jesus could rise from the dead, and walk alongside them. Jesus failed to meet their expectation of staying dead.
Friends, Jesus also fails to meet *our* expectations. But at the same time, he exceeds them.
What are some foolish expectations we have of Jesus?
Well there is the popular one, that if we just believe in Jesus, then life will be easy. That if we follow Jesus, we will be blessed with wealth, and health, and a good parking spot at the mall.
Jesus promises none of those things. So if that is what we expect from him, he will fail to meet those expectations.
Some folks expect Jesus to be vengeful and to sanction violence in his name. The current Secretary of Defense thinks this. He prays prayers of retribution in worship services held at the Pentagon. He expects that Jesus will bless war, and he is not alone in thinking this. Will Jesus fulfill this expectation? I don’t think so, and neither does the Pope. (To be clear, I don’t always agree with the Pope, but on this point, I do.)
So what should we expect of Jesus? We should expect him to surprise us, to show up in surprising ways, in ways that we maybe cannot imagine could be possible. I don’t think Jesus *means* to be sneaky, and catch us out. It’s just that we often try to constrain him with our expectations, and so when we look where we expect him to be, then he is not there.
So,where can we expect to see Jesus? Well, he did give some pretty clear direction on this point. In Matthew 25, Jesus was explainig how things would go at his final judgment, and he says that those who will inherit the kingdom of God will be the ones who served him during their lifetimes. He said:
I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.
So, if we are looking for Jesus, we can always find him among the poor, the hungry, the stranger, the sick, the incarcerated. With the sad, with the lonely, with the grieving, with the dying.
He also pretty clearly said that whenever we bless bread and break it and share it with one another, that he would be there. So maybe that’s why the light bulb finally clicked on when Jesus sat with those two disciples at table, and Jesus blessed the bread, and broke it. Then they knew who he was.
And that is when they remembered that their hearts had burned within them when Jesus had been speaking with them earlier, when he had “opened the scriptures” to them. What does that feel like—to have one’s heart burn within? Has your heart ever burned within you? What were the circumstances of that?
I think it must not be so common an experience. Not the kind of thing that happens every day. I think the experience of being faced with a truth so whole, so complete, so life-changing that it is not enough for your brain to simply process this truth. You also feel it in your heart, it burns within your soul. I think most of us probably only experience that a few times in our lives.
But that is what those two disciples felt, and could it be that you or I could feel it, too? Or at least, could you imagine what that might feel like, to finally see Jesus when you weren’t expecting it, to be so surprised by the joy of resurrection, that your life must be forever changed.
We have to stop trying to constrain Jesus with our small-minded and foolish expectations of him. We have to stop living as though he is there to serve our own ends, but to understand that we will find Jesus in the unexpected, we will find him in relationship with others, in moments of connection, in moments of joy.
Where might you recognize Jesus this week? Where can you expect to find him? In the face of a stranger in need? In the face of a friend whose life is falling apart? In your own dark moments of grief? In the joy of seeing a new baby? In the buds on the trees, and the bulbs breaking forth from underground? In the communion of sharing a meal? Where might you encounter the risen Christ?
Jesus doesn’t mean to be sneaky. We can find him. We just have to remember where to look, and to be open to finding him where we least expect.