For the last couple of weeks, we’ve been reading from John’s gospel accounts of the resurrection and its aftermath. Today we focus on the gospel of Luke, who presents us with a story of revelation that is one of the most beloved in the gospel. The road to Emmaus is especially relevant because it is a journey we all take, and not just once, in our walk of faith. Let’s take a closer look.
Our two main characters are named Cleopas and… hmm, no name at all. Who is this second disciple? We don’t even know if it’s a man or a woman. So, just as we did at Easter with the beloved disciple, put yourself in this person’s sandals and be in the story. Let the other disciple be you. You two are leaving Jerusalem, heading for a place called Emmaus. To this day, no one knows where Emmaus is or was – it’s simply a place seven miles from Jerusalem. What is important is that Emmaus is not Jerusalem, it is a different place. Symbolically and actually, you two are leaving town, getting out, washing your hands of this whole affair, heading back to the farm. You are discouraged, disappointed, had-it-up-to-here.
Then Jesus shows up and joins you. Luke says that “their eyes were prevented from recognizing him.” What a strange statement! Does this makes sense? Why wouldn’t you recognize Jesus? There are some very good reasons why you wouldn’t. First of all, you definitely don’t expect him to be there. He’s dead, remember? But more importantly, you’re wrapped up in yourself, in your sorrow, you’re completely self-absorbed at this moment. I know that when I’m like this, I wouldn’t recognize my best friend.
Worse than this, this stranger seems clueless as to what has happened recently. He asks the seemingly innocent question, “what sort of things have happened?” So you and Cleopas lay it all out – how Jesus was your great hope, the one to redeem Israel, how the chief priests and scribes handed him over to be crucified. And even more amazing, how the rumor is rampant that Jesus is actually alive, although no one has seen him. It’s all just a bit too much, isn’t it?
Then the stranger speaks. He seems a little exasperated, calls you foolish, and begins to explain how it really is. How the Scripture should be interpreted, how the Christ had to suffer and die, how it was all foretold. As you walk with him, you begin to understand more and more, and your spirit begins to lift. You look at him more closely and a part of you deep inside is breaking open, beginning to see something new. Time flies and suddenly, you’ve reached the outskirts of Emmaus. You stop outside the inn where you intend to stay. He gives the impression that he has farther to travel, but you insist that he join you for dinner – “stay with us, for it is nearly evening and the day is almost over.” A part of you that has nothing to do with physical hunger wants more.
So the stranger joins you for dinner. What comes next is no surprise in Luke’s gospel – Jesus is always having dinner with people, and sure enough, when he blesses the bread and breaks it, and passes it to you and Cleopas, the surge of joy that has been building up in you erupts and you suddenly see Jesus in this stranger. As soon as you do, Jesus vanishes. Not in a scary spooky way, but in a simple gentle way – he has moved on. You and Cleopas are so excited, you can barely sit still. You simply must rejoin the community and tell them what has happened, so off you go in the dark, retracing those seven miles back to Jerusalem. Quite a story!
A number of years ago, I attended a religious education conference and had a taste of that experience. My wife and I attended a talk given by Fr. Richard Rohr, a Franciscan priest. I was at a time in my life when I was searching for ways to better know and understand God’s will in my life. Fr. Rohr’s topic was men’s spirituality, and for an hour and a half, I was mesmerized. I felt that God was speaking directly to me amidst the 400 people in the room. It’s not that Fr. Rohr was God – he simply has a gift of teaching that clarifies and focuses the gospel. At the end of the presentation, we drove home and Katie and I talked the entire way. My heart was burning within me, and thoughts were flying through my head. It’s amazing we weren’t in a car accident, but the Lord watched over us. Over the years since then, I’ve had other similar experiences when God’s spirit has taken hold of my soul. Has that ever happened to you?
The road to Emmaus story tells us how it can happen to you. Some key points to note:
- Whenever you feel lost and confused, Jesus is likely to show up.
- Unfortunately, he may be hard to recognize. That’s not His fault!
- He’ll come to you as a stranger, or as an invitation, or as an odd encounter, an interruption. In my case, the only reason that I went to Rohr’s talk that day is because a friend of a friend told me that I might enjoy listening to him. I went because the room he was speaking at was close to the parking lot.
- During the encounter, something deep inside you will recognize that this is important, but you won’t be able to say why.
- The aftermath is characterized by incredible energy, a need to talk it out, and a compelling need to share the story with others.
- You’ll want to take it to the next step. You’ll want to replicate the experience, to seek out more depth. This is understandable and just what God has in mind.
The road to Emmaus is actually a love story, isn’t it? Jesus cares so much for you that he will seek you out, even as you are walking away. He will address your deepest longing, your deepest fear, and shed light on your darkest places. When you ask him to stay with you because you are thirsty and hungering for more, he will stay with you. He’s present in the breaking of the bread, which to us Catholics is very obviously a reference to the Eucharist. Once you recognize Jesus, you never need to be alone again. He’s right here.
Are you on the road to Emmaus right now? Don’t be afraid. Jesus is about to join you.