“Then Jesus Himself drew near and went with them.”
Luke 24:15
Over recent months I have been thinking more carefully about how I would describe the way I seek to work as a Christian counsellor. Not simply the theory I was trained in, or the methods I have learned, but the actual posture I seek to hold in the counselling room.
I have come to describe this as An Emmaus Way of Counselling.
The phrase comes from Luke 24, where two disciples were walking on the road to Emmaus after the death of Jesus. They were confused, disappointed, and trying to make sense of what had happened. Jesus drew near and walked with them, though they did not yet recognise Him. He listened to them. He allowed them to speak. He asked what they were discussing. He heard their sadness and their misunderstanding. Then, in His time, He opened the Scriptures and helped them see what they had not yet understood.
That picture has become increasingly important to me.
For me, An Emmaus Way of Counselling is not simply Christ-centred counselling, although it is certainly that. More deeply, it is Christ-led counselling.
By Christ-led, I do not mean that I have a counselling method which I ask Christ to bless. I do not mean that I have a structure I must apply correctly in order to make counselling work. I mean that Christ is already present and already at work. My task is to recognise His leading, walk with Him in the process, and cooperate with what He is bringing into the light.
That distinction matters to me.
When I feel that counselling depends on me doing the right thing, asking the right question, finding the right intervention, or producing the right outcome, I can quickly lose peace. I can become too direct, too hurried, or too focused on what I think I should be doing. Even a good method can become a burden if I begin to carry it as though the work depends on me.
But when my attention returns to Christ and what He is doing, something changes. I still listen, ask, reflect, challenge, encourage, and seek understanding. I still take my professional responsibility seriously. But the burden is different. I am not the saviour, the healer, the convictor, or the one who must manufacture change. I am called to be present, attentive, truthful, compassionate, discerning, and obedient.
The work belongs to Christ.
The Emmaus road helps me recognise the kind of work Christ often does.
First, He brings understanding. Before anything can be wisely addressed, it needs to be understood. In counselling, this means listening carefully to the person, their concern, their experience, their perspective, and what they hope for. Understanding does not mean agreeing with everything a person says. It does not mean that their understanding is complete or always true. It means that I do not want to answer before I have listened. I want the person to know that I have heard them, and that I am seeking to understand them faithfully.
Second, He brings discernment. As we walk together, something may begin to become clearer. A pattern may appear. A wound may be named. A fear may be recognised. A responsibility may come into view. A misunderstanding may be uncovered. A truth may begin to shine where there had previously been confusion. My role is not to force this, but to watch for it, reflect it, and bear witness to it when it comes into the light.
Third, He invites response. When something has become visible, the person must decide what they will do with it. This may involve repentance, forgiveness, courage, honesty, grief, acceptance, change, or simply a willingness to see what they had not seen before. I may help them consider what a faithful response could look like, but I must not take over their will. Each person remains responsible before God for their own response.
This has also shaped the way I think about working with couples.
When a couple comes for counselling, there are two people in the room, but there is also the relationship between them. It is easy to spend the whole session trying to understand each person separately, hoping that if each partner feels heard, they will understand one another better. There is value in that, but I am increasingly aware that the central work is often to understand what happens between them.
A couple may not only need to understand each other better. They may need to see the pattern they are caught in together. One partner speaks, the other hears criticism. One explains, the other hears defence. One withdraws, the other feels rejected. One seeks reassurance, the other feels pressured. The original issue can quickly become hidden beneath the process that takes over between them.
In that sense, the Emmaus Way for couples is about walking with both partners until the pattern between them becomes visible. Not so that blame can be shared out equally, because responsibility is not always equal. But so that the couple can begin to see what happens between them, and each person can consider what belongs to them within that pattern.
This is not always easy work. It requires patience, humility, and care. It also requires me to remember that a counselling model, however helpful, is still only a tool. Questions, techniques, insights, and frameworks all belong in the box. They may serve the work, but they must not become the centre.
The centre is Christ.
So, when I speak of An Emmaus Way of Counselling, I am not claiming to have invented a new school of counselling. I am trying to describe the posture I seek to hold. It draws on person-centred counselling, Christian counselling, biblical conviction, professional experience, and prayerful discernment. But its deepest conviction is simple:
Christ leads.
I walk with Him.
I listen for understanding.
I watch for what He is bringing into the light.
I bear witness to truth.
I help the person consider their responsible response.
And I leave the outcome with Him.
This is the way I seek to work. I do not always do it perfectly. I do not always get the timing right. Sometimes I speak too quickly, or try too hard, or become too aware of what I think I should be doing. But this is the road I am learning to walk.
The Emmaus Way is not a burden for me to carry. It is a way of recognising the road Christ is already walking.
And my prayer is that, as I walk that road with others, they too may come to recognise Him in the journey.
