Third Sunday of Easter
The disciples in today’s Gospel were the ones who didn’t quite get it. We’ve heard this Gospel passage before, and we’re probably quite familiar with it. On Easter Sunday, the very day Jesus rose from the dead, two disciples, one of who was named Cleopas are walking away from Jerusalem. They had heard Mary Magdalen tell the apostles that Jesus was risen from the dead, but they don’t believe her. They figure all their hope that Jesus truly was the Messiah is hopeless. And then this guy comes up to walk beside them, though they don’t recognize Him.
As they walk, this guy talks about how the suffering of the Messiah was prophesied by the entire Old Testament, and He gives them the different passages that refer to the Messiah and how they were fulfilled. As the two approach Emmaus, the guy acts like He’s going farther. But they invite Him to stay with them, because it’s dark, and there would likely be robbers along the road. So the guy stays with them, and says the blessing of the bread, breaks it, and gives it to them. At that, “their eyes were opened and they recognized him, but he vanished from their sight.” They then run back to tell the others that they, too, have seen the risen Lord.
Even though these two disciples had been with Jesus for some time, maybe even all three years, spending days and nights with Jesus, only rarely leaving His side, they didn’t quite get it. They didn’t understand why the Messiah had to suffer and die, and they didn’t believe He rose from the dead. It takes Jesus being present with them, opening up the Word of God, and especially the breaking of bread for them to recognize Him.
Do we quite get it? Or do we walk through this world downcast, as if our hope in Jesus wasn’t worth much? Do we live as if Jesus has not been raised from the dead?
In essence, the story of the disciples on the road to Emmaus is a paradigm for the Mass. Think about it: there’s a walk, we might call it a procession; the Lord is with them; the Word of God is opened up by Jesus; and then Jesus blesses bread, breaks it, and gives it to the disciples. This should sound familiar, because it’s what happens at every Mass. The priest, acting in the Person of Christ the Head, processes into the sanctuary; he says, “The Lord be with you;” the Word of God is proclaimed from the Old Testament, New Testament, and is applied in the homily; then the priest, still acting in the Person of Christ the Head, changes the bread and wine into the Body and Blood of Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit, and the Eucharist is then given to those who follow Jesus in the one Church He established. The Second Vatican Council says it this way:
“[Christ] is present in the sacrifice of the Mass, not only in the person of His minister, ‘the same now offering, through the ministry of priests, who formerly offered himself on the cross’, but especially under the Eucharistic species. […] He is present in His word, since it is He Himself who speaks when the holy scriptures are read in the Church. He is presently, lastly, when the Church prays and sings, for He promised: ‘Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there I am in the midst of them’.”
Each Mass, and especially on Sunday, the first day of the week, the very day of the Resurrection, we might say we relive the road to Emmaus.
But there is another part to the story which I didn’t mention. After the encounter with Jesus on the road to Emmaus, the disciples run back to tell the others about Jesus being risen from the dead. This encounter with Jesus changes them and they can’t help but talk about seeing Jesus. Do we relive this part of Emmaus? Does our encounter with Jesus so affect us that we want to tell others about Jesus, risen from the dead?
There has been a lot of ink spilled recently about encountering Jesus. There are many programs and retreats that encourage such an encounter with Jesus, and many of them are good! But the Mass is the pre-eminent place to encounter Jesus. It is the place where we, most often, get to spend time with Jesus. Yes, it’s the same basic format every week. But this unchanging format allows us the opportunity to enter more deeply into the Mass, rather than remaining at a superficial level at all the stuff that is different.
If we’re not encountering Jesus in the Mass, then why are we not? Is Jesus holding Himself back? Certainly not. It isn’t all about feelings; we can encounter Jesus without having a gushy, emotional response. But we should have some sense that we have spent time with Jesus. And if we don’t, then maybe we haven’t brought our full attention to the Mass, or having been holding something back from Jesus. Today we have the opportunity, as we do every Sunday and every time we come to Mass, to encounter Jesus walking with us, opening the Word of God for us, and giving Himself to us in the Eucharist. Hopefully we are open so that the Mass will transform us as it transformed the disciples on the road to Emmaus.
