"In Breaking Bread”
- Dr. Todd R. Wright
- Apr 19
- 5 min read
There is something about the breaking of bread that is revelatory.
Luke 24:13-35
April 19, 2026
Dr. Todd R. Wright
Another appearance story – this time from Luke.
Each of the gospel writers has their own quiver of stories about the risen Lord to pierce hearts.
But this one is not what you’d expect.
Jesus does not appear to Peter or James or John or any of the inner circle.
Nor to Mary Magdalene or any of the other women who have followed him so faithfully.
And he does not appear in Jerusalem – not at the tomb or in the Temple.
Instead, according to Luke, his first appearance is to two folks trudging back home to Emmaus, and even then, they do not recognize him while they walk, only over a meal.
There is something about the breaking of bread that is revelatory.
Reflecting on this text, Tom Long tells a story. Maybe you’ve heard it:
“He had been a proud man, spending all his years tilling the soil and all his Sabbaths praising God for life and seed and family. A final bout with cancer sent him to the hospital never to come home again, and in the last week of his life there was the added indignity of a stroke which robbed him of his ability to speak. As his family gathered ‘round his bedside, his eyes would moisten with frustration and grief as he tried in vain to communicate with these people he loved so dearly.
On his last day alive, the attending physician [alerted] the family to stay close by. With strength fading, the father motioned for his son to bring him a glass of water. The son crossed the room to the sink and returned with a full glass, which he gently held to his father’s parched lips. But the old man pushed the glass away and moved his finger from the glass to his son, as if to say, ‘You drink it.’
Hesitant and uncertain, the son lifted the glass and drank from it. Then the father motioned toward his daughter, indicating she should drink some, too. Sensing what his father wanted, the son passed the glass to his sister, and she drank. Now the father pointed toward his youngest son, and it finally dawned on the daughter what was happening. ‘He’s serving communion,’ she gasped![2]
There in the face of death, this father did what he could to celebrate the feast of life; there in a wordless act of worship, the promise of the resurrection became real – a comfort for the one close to death, and also, for those who would remain.
Luke story also begins with grief and ends around a table.
It is now the third day since the crucifixion, and each passing day makes the event more permanent. His followers have lost their Lord, lost their hope, lost any sense of a future full of God’s blessings. For those disheartened followers, it is not Easter, only Sunday, the first day of yet another week, another day in an unbroken string, where life grinds on the way it always has.
And then a stranger joins them. They do not recognize him.
Scholars explain “the word translated as ‘stranger’ here is paroikeis, literally a ‘resident foreigner’ — suggesting not only [that he is ignorant] about current events, but also that his overall appearance or style of speech comes across as [foreign]” – as if he came from someplace else![3]
It takes at least three hours to walk the seven miles to Emmaus, and that is how long they have to talk over the roller coaster events of the past week: the trial, the crucifixion, the silent procession to the tomb, and the women’s vision of angels and an empty grave.
They say, “We had hoped …” and while they go on talking that phrase is all they really need to say to express their deep sadness, their sense of betrayal, their woundedness.
John Bell imagines the encounter unfolding like this: “We met him at the close of the day … the stranger we called him … Sneaking up behind us as we walked along the road. Sneaking? … no, not [exactly] sneaking … it was as if he had always been there, that stranger. Listening to us, ever curious, ever wanting to make us know that he heard, that he listened; and knowing, it seemed, everything, but letting us say it all first. Listening? No, not [exactly] listening … understanding, that stranger.” [4]
It was as if he understood their grief, their disappointment, their brokenness. And in explaining the scriptures, as if he was trying to slip them the good news.
It was exactly what they needed to hear.
The story could have ended there. A chance meeting on the road. A diversion while they walked. A conversation to make you think. That’s all.
But when they arrive at Emmaus, the stranger/foreigner makes as if to go on. They refuse to let him go. They have not gotten enough of him yet. So, they invite him to stay with them.
“He is an odd guest though. It is their house, their food, their table, but when the three of them sit down together, he is the one who acts as the host, who reaches out, takes the bread, says the blessing, breaks the bread and gives it to them. Maybe it is the oddness of the act that makes them come to their senses, or maybe it is the familiarity of it – [the cadence of his voice, the movements of his hands] – something they have seen him do on a green hillside with five loaves and two fish, and in an upper room with unleavened bread and Passover wine. He takes, blesses, breaks, gives – and through the torn, fragrant edges of the loaf he holds out to them, they look at him and know who he is, one moment before he vanishes from their sight.” [5]
Luke has told this story before. Do you recognize the formula?
An appearance in an out-of-the-way place rather than the center of power; to humble people not the leaders you’d expect, and yet the message is earth-shaking!
The first time it was angels announcing a new life to some shepherds in a field, before disappearing. News of great joy! News that demanded to be investigated. News worth sharing!
This time it is Jesus himself making the announcement. He does not say a word while breaking the bread and yet the message is clear. It is good news! News of new life; resurrected life! News that reminds them what he had said God would do. News that spurred them to run all the way back to Jerusalem so they could share it!
Last week, I talked about looking for Jesus in places and people you wouldn’t usually expect.
That seems to be Luke’s slant too!
Look for him whenever you break bread. Every time!
Look for him among ordinary people, maybe especially those saying, “We had hoped …”
Look for him on the road, and in the scriptures, and when you offer hospitality.
What is he doing there?
Announcing hope! Giving hope! Reminding us that God’s people are filled with hope!
But also, that hope is not something to be hoarded. It is to be shared, joyfully, recklessly!
May that be Easter’s lingering effect on you! Amen
[1] “The Road to Emmaus” by Daniel Bonnell
[2] From Whispering the Lyrics, pages100-101
[3] From the SALT project reflection on the text, 4/13/26,
[4] From “The Stranger” in He Was in the World.
[5] From Gospel Medicine by Barbara Brown Taylor, page 22
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