“Two of Jesus’ disciples were going to a village seven miles from Jerusalem called Emmaus, and they were conversing about all the things that had occurred. And it happened that Jesus himself drew near and walked with them, but their eyes were prevented from recognising him.” Luke 24: 13-35
If ever there is to be found in the New Testament an almost unbelievable clanger, it is in the words which Peter addressed to a large audience and which Luke recorded in today’s first reading from the Acts of the Apostles. In speaking on the day of Pentecost to the crowd whom he designated as “men of Israel”, Peter announced that God had made a decision to put Jesus into the hands of their leaders, who manipulated the Romans to execute him. Peter had declared that Jesus’ death on Calvary was God’s plan from the outset and that the Jewish leaders were mistaken in believing that it was they who could take credit for getting rid of Jesus (cf Acts 2:23). There is a serious faultline in Peter’s theology.
Even this coming Sunday’s second reading from Peter’s First Letter needs to be read with caution because it describes Jesus’ life as “the ransom price to be paid” to free humanity from a meaningless, purposeless way of living (1 Peter 1:18-19).
In today’s gospel-reading from Luke we are given a much more credible explanation of the reason for Jesus’ death by the Risen Jesus himself, who was yet to reveal himself to the two disciples on the road to Emmaus. To them he was still no more than a knowledgeable stranger with whom they had shared their grief and disappointment. The “stranger” shared with them what his life experience had taught him about what happens when somebody who lives with integrity is seen by others as a threat to their power, authority and status. The “stranger” explained to his two travelling companions that the one they had concluded was the “Messiah”, whose coming and suffering had been predicted in the Jewish Scriptures, would be discredited, rejected and eliminated by those, who stood to lose, were they to accept him as the Messiah, the Christ of God. What captivated the two disciples was the “stranger” ’s humanity rather than his logic. They discovered that they were in the company of one who empathised with them, who so resonated with their feelings of grief and loss that they just had to invite him to join them for dinner.
When the two disciples had finished pouring out their woes in detail, the “stranger’ spoke to them in equal detail about what their Scriptures had revealed about the rejection and violence that would be meted out to the Messiah, the Christ of God, when he appeared. The only hint of judgement in his words was to ask them as to why they had been so deaf and blind to how Moses and their other prophets had made mention of the sufferings that awaited the Messiah. The “stranger” described all that in matter-of-fact language, without even a hint of bitterness and blame. Moreover, across the last two thousand years haven’t the compassion, mercy, kindness and forgiveness, expressed by people who have modelled their lives on the life of Jesus, met with the same kind of response as was directed at him? The “stranger” made it clear that it is that kind of response that typifies people who cannot cope with challenge, compassion and genuine love.
Once we work our way through the various layers of today’s gospel story: the apparent ignorance of the two travellers, the reference to prophecies of a suffering Messiah, the way in which the disciples came to recognise the Risen Jesus in the breaking of bread, the patience of the “stranger” in listening to the two disciples pouring out their grief, we might eventually come to recognise that this is a story about us in our everyday lives and how God can be encountered in and through the stuff of daily-life events and experiences. God’s Spirit can and does touch us in our ordinary experiences like sharing a walk with a friend, meeting up and chatting with a total stranger, sharing with a friend an experience of loss and grief, conversation with friends and family at the meal table, a surprise phone-call from a former work colleague and any number of experiences that are part of our life journey..
The two disciples on the Emmaus road were not the only ones who merited the label of “foolish”. Stupidity is part of the human condition. So, it is something of which we have all been guilty at some time or other. What’s more, we are all capable of bouncing back. Thomas brashly said he would not believe in Jesus’ resurrection until he could touch the wounds left on Jesus’ body by nails and lance. Yet his subsequent act of faith is arguably unsurpassed by anyone else in the Bible. Similar to disciples in parishes across the world and across the centuries, we have all encountered Christ Risen in the breaking of bread during our celebration of Eucharist. Moreover, recalling St Augustine’s assertion that whenever we receive Christ in the Eucharist we become what we receive, we reach out to our world with the compassion, mercy, forgiveness and love of Christ. The Christ we have received walks in and with us in our encounters with everyone we meet during our daily journeying.
Before concluding this reflection, I want to share a little about a priest I encountered on my Emmaus journey. He is now retired and well into his 90s. He belongs to the Diocese of Trenton, New Jersey. In his early years as a priest in the parish of Keyport, his parishioners asked him to sit on his hands at parish meetings for two years and listen to them. Both he and they had realised how much he relied on his hands to speak. He honoured their request and now admits that it was listening to his people that he discovered the real meaning of his vocation to be a priest. When he retired after 60 years working in the Trenton Diocese, he reflected on his ministry: “I have developed a profound sense of reverence and respect for the lives and gifts of the laypeople who have deeply affected my approach to being a pastor. I make it clear to the people from day one that I am there among them to promote and call forth the gifts and charisms they already have, to teach them who they are as a people of God, to support and learn from them, to make them aware that this is their parish. I told parishioners that I was temporary and would leave some day, but they were permanent. … that I was sent there to serve, to remind them who they are. I have never failed to consult them. The Keyport experience had defined my priesthood.” That was part of Fr Bill Bausch’s Emmaus story. He wrote this about Luke’s story:
They walked the highway, defeated, alone.
A stranger joined them and lifted the stone.
He unfolded the Scriptures, what prophets had said.
They shared life together, the cup and the bread.
Then they knew him, the Stranger, the man who was dead.
He gave them the answer when love broke bread.