As they came near the village to which they were going, he walked ahead
as if he were going on. But they urged
him strongly, saying, “Stay with us, because it is almost evening and the day
is now nearly over.” So he went in to stay with them. (Luke 24:28-29)
Walks slow us down providing time
for thoughtful conversation. If you’re
on the wrong road, the worst you can do is move in haste. Ever find yourself on the way to Emmaus? I do. Fresh spring scents wash the stench of
brutality and death away. Luke shares the story of a man and a woman
walking a seven mile trek away from
Jerusalem. While engaged in an animated
exchange replaying the horrors in Jerusalem, a stranger approached interrupting
them acting as if he knew nothing of recent events. Walking, not fleeing, I imagine their hopes
and admiration wilted as they did not know Jesus intimately. This distressed pair described the man from
Nazareth as a prophet powerful in word
and deed (24:19). They asked in
disbelief, how their people could condemn and crucify the healer, Jesus? How
often have we failed to recognize God in a friend, a spouse, a neighbor, a
child, or perhaps a stranger?
The man and woman detailed how
women had entered Jesus’ tomb three days later and found no body. Confused, they recounted a tale embellished with angels declaring
Jesus to be alive!
Much to their surprise, the
stranger entered the conversation beginning with Moses. From the same records for which we have
access today, he interpreted the prophets and every passage of scripture referring
to him.
Eventually, the two stopped
having arrived home. The stranger continued
on. As if time were cut far too short
with good friends or family, the two… blind to the stranger, but burning inside… responded, pleading with
an invitation to stay … and when the stranger blessed and broke the bread at
the meal. “… their eyes were opened, and they recognized him; and he vanished from
their sight.” (Luke 24:31) How often
have we been touched by God, but it goes unrecognized for weeks, months, years
before we or another recognize it upon reflection?
So moved, the two immediately returned
through hostile people to Jerusalem where they found the Eleven.
Jesus took two critical
risks. The first occurred before the journey. He lived a radical, saving love
for humanity that threatened the social, economic, political powers of society
and still do to this day. He modeled how
to live beyond our self-imposed limits. For
these saving acts of love, absorbing evil through forgiveness, he faced
humiliation and degradation in death. The
second risk occurred following his sacrifice. Jesus entrusted us to respond to his love. Resurrection
is not enough. As the man and woman journeyed to Emmaus, their eyes, hearts,
thoughts were opened in community with shared
experiences from life’s scriptures and the dawning Eucharist … wholesome tradition … committed to love … work for
understanding and justice. To walk away isolated … failing to respond ... indifference grows … the Divine remains a
stranger … our eyes unopened. Many who
make the journey in faith alone in guarded spirituality don’t meet strangers,
let alone invite them. We all try trekking
solo only to discover the solitary footprints that carried us. The men at my PX-90 or Tuesday morning tables
began as strangers. Though they’re far
from saints, I have seen the face of God in them on many occasions.
Jesus risking death and resurrection
offers invitation. The travelers stopped. He offered shelter, broke bread in meal, and
gave vision. Are we like the travelers in
need of a lifestyle change? Resurrection is not enough. Without response, the Holy Spirit, God,
remains a stranger in our presence. Our candidates
and catechumen have been on the road to Emmaus and will soon return to
Jerusalem. Will we see? Will we hear?
If not, Jesus’ suffering death on a cross is folly, a tale.
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