They were not quite able to comprehend it. Neither did they know who was speaking to them; but when they were at Emmaus and He made as if to go on, they implored Him: "Abide with us; for it is toward evening, and the day is far spent!" It was such a comfort to listen to His words. In them was that healing power which crushed hearts needed—O, would He but tarry with them!
So He went inside with them, and when He broke the bread, their eyes were opened, and they saw it was Jesus Himself—that very same Jesus whom they had believed perished under the burden of the events of Good Friday.
Then they did rejoice.
——— ——— ———
Yes, Lord, abide with us; for it is toward evening, and the day is far spent!
Let us first of all think of our own life-day. None of us knows how nigh is the evening. We may be near the final hour, both you and I, even though our hair as yet has no silver tinge. And if we, with this possibility in view, review the march of events in our own lives, we see much which we would like to change—if we but could. How often have not the powers of evil been victorious in our lives, as they were on that Good Friday! That thought grips the heart wistfully. And a little way ahead: That dark power death—"the difficult death" as a modern writer has said. O, how intensely we wish that so many things could be thought over and lived over once more!
But when we thus review the march of events in our own life, we sigh: "Hearest thou also us, thou Son of Grace!" For the only one who can relieve our suffering is Jesus Christ; His abiding by us as the Son of Grace is the great surcease, for He comes from Heaven with grace enough with which to cover all our shortcomings, all our sins, and with healing for all those wounds which have been inflicted upon us in the course of the march of events. It is, indeed, a blessing to know that just what we are yearning for from the very depth of our soul is what He rejoices most in giving us. We shall not pray in vain.
But it was not only what we had thought and what we had done. There was so much in the march of events which was sad and incomprehensible. Was that an evil power which from without, by chance, disrupted our life? Was it a series of happenings without aim, without meaning? In that case we stand in need of listening to the words of Jesus: It behooves you to suffer this, and then to enter into My glory. The saddest events in our earthly life are like dark viaducts which lead us forward to glory. They, too, lead us to salvation. It is relieving when this becomes quite clear to us. We feel like the disciples when listening to the words of the Lord: There is comfort and healing in them. And then we can rejoice even though it is toward evening. We have no fear, we shudder not, at the thought that the end of the day is drawing nigh—for that draws us closer to the glory, and death will be the last dark passage through which we must wend our way.
But if we look round about us it seems to me that it is toward evening for this world. The end of the long day of the life of the world is drawing nigh, and by the words of the Lord we know that the march of events in the last days will not be cheerful for the Christians. The powers of evil shall arise against the Lord and His church, just as they did during that Easter week, and they will unite in one final outburst of desperate strength for the purpose of conquering. Then it will be seen decisively once more that the church is fighting principalities and powers, the masters of the world, and the spiritual hosts under the sky. The bow will be bent for this final struggle—and the world already now is singing a hymn of victory.
What shall we do?