On the way to Emmaus

They had killed him. Our hopes had died
On that barren hill, our redeeming King,
Judged like a gangster and crucified,
Israel’s dream they dead degraded fling.
A stranger joined us on our way back,
Asking why we looked about so bleakly,
Was this a joke? What made our hearts so black
We told, and empty tomb rumoured weakly.
He shocked us, from prophets preaching,
A Gospel foreign to our ears of pain,
That the Lord must suffer was his teaching,
That through the grave he would reach out and reign.
He took some bread with us, in blessing spoke,
We now saw clearly: our despair Christ broke.

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