THE SUPPER AT EMMAUS (THIRD SUNDAY OF EASTER)

The two disciples recounted what had taken place on the way, and how Jesus was made known to them in the breaking of the bread.” Lk: 24:35

 
The Emmaus story, described only in the gospel of Luke, can easily be read as the story of our own faith lives.

Place yourselves for a moment in the shoes of those two disciples walking away from the community that claimed they had witnessed Jesus after his crucifixion and burial.

These former followers of Jesus, once so filled with hope and fervor, were now disheartened, dejected, discouraged.

They had become former disciples of Jesus. Yes, they had personally witnessed Jesus curing the lame and the blind, feeding the thousands who were hungry, raising people from the dead.

And consequently, they had once been filled with the hope that Jesus was the messiah the prophets had foretold.

But meanwhile, they had personally witnessed this same Jesus undergo the most disgraceful and dishonorable torture known to humankind – crucifixion. And so, all their hopes and dreams had been quashed. Their imaginings of a new kind of future for human beings had turned into a profound sadness.

They could no longer believe.

So, they were abandoning the community of believers and returning home.

They were certainly aware that some women claimed the tomb where Jesus was buried was now empty, but these two disciples considered that report to be nonsense. For them, believing could only come from seeing with their own eyes.

For these two, all the suffering Jesus endured now made no sense. Why would a “prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people” have to endure such brutal suffering and so ignominious a death?

And so, shaking their heads in disbelief, they decided to give up hope and abandon the community that had nourished them for so long.

Then … along comes a stranger – a man they “see,” but don’t “recognize.”

We’ve all had the experience of not re-cognizing someone – at least, at first. Only when the person does something unique does insight flash in our brain and we suddenly “see” in a whole new way.

And notice what the “stranger” does:

He stresses the importance of believing all that the prophets had spoken, not just some select passages. The stranger then interprets for them, not only all the prophets but all the scriptures.
Until that moment, the disciples’ hope in Jesus was based on only some of the prophets and scriptures, not the ones showing them that as the Christ, the Messiah, the One who would lead humanity to a whole new understanding of God, had to suffer the passion in order to enter into his glory. Jesus had to surrender himself totally to the Father to become one with Him.

Now, the two disciples were intrigued!

So, they invited the stranger to share a meal with them at their home. “Stay with us, for it is nearly evening and the day is almost over.” And Jesus went in to stay with them.

Even though Jesus is invited as a guest, he suddenly takes the position of being the host. The table becomes his.

Just as Jesus did when he hosted some 5,000 people who had nothing to eat, and just as Jesus did for the disciples on the night before he died, Jesus “takes” the bread, “breaks” the bread, gives thanks,” and “gives” it to the travelers who had left the community of believers.

Then they “recognized” him!

The famous artist, Caravaggio, created an extraordinary painting called “The Supper at Emmaus” illuminating this astonishing moment …. the precise instance when these two travelers recognized Jesus “in the breaking of the bread.”

When that re-cognition happened, Caravaggio paints one of the disciples flinging his arms wide as he stares at Jesus. The other disciple tightly grips the arms of his chair, seemingly ready to spring from his seat entirely, unable to control himself.

“Their eyes were opened,” Luke tells us.

They recognized Jesus!

Then, when Jesus says the incomparable words that we say at Mass to this day – he “took,” he “gave thanks,” he “broke,” he “gave” – then they not only saw, they recognized.

And notice that the telling of the Scriptures came first – just as it does every time we celebrate the Eucharist to this day. The liturgy of the Word prepares us for experiencing Christ in the eucharistic bread.

Word and Bread.

Together they help us to not just “see,” but to “recognize” the action of God in our midst, the action that will enable us to welcome the stranger into our lives, and re-new our efforts to reclaim our mission to be a people who, like the disciples in today’s story, “set out at once” to proclaim our enthusiasm and joy in being disciples whose lives now shout out:

“The Lord has truly been raised.”

Ted Wolgamot, Psy.D.
 
NOTE:
“Easter means understanding life in a different way. It means joyfully sensing that the Risen One is there, in the midst of our sadness, forever upholding the moments of goodness and beauty that flower within us as a foretaste of the infinite, even if the moments pass without reaching their fullness.

Easter means Christ is there in our tears and sorrows, as a mysterious, everlasting comfort. He is there in our failures and helplessness, defending us with his enduring power. He is there in our times of depression, silently accompanying our loneliness and sadness.

He is there in our sins, as the mercy that sustains us with infinite patience, understanding and accepting us to the end. He is even there in our death, as life that triumphs when it seems to be extinguished.

No human being is alone. No one is forgotten. None of our laments fall into the void. None of our cries go unheard. The Risen One is with us and in us forever.

Thus, Easter is the feast of those who feel alone and lost. The feast of those who are ashamed of their meanness and sin. The feast of those who feel dead inside. The feast of those who wail in anguish over the weight of life and the mediocrity of their heart. The feast of all of us who know we are mortal but have discovered hope of eternal life in the risen Christ.”

Quote from The Way Opened Up By Jesus, by Jose A. Pagola