Luke’s narrative here is one of those narratives that we can easily picture. It was late afternoon on the very first Easter day, and two disciples -- apparently not of the original twelve -- but nevertheless, two disciples, were walking along the dry dusty road from Jerusalem to Emmaus. They were pretty down-in-the-mouth for they had just lost their messiah, Jesus of Nazareth, the one they had thought would be the Savior of Israel. So they were walking along this dusty country road, and there was no air moving at all. The flies were buzzing around and they could hear the stillness -- no sounds of cars or even a distant airplane overhead. The road ahead, particularly far off a half-mile ahead, seemed to be shimmering and watery as the heat rose from it. It was hot, and they couldn’t wait fo…