HIDDEN
The Third Sunday of Easter (Year A)
Acts 2:14, 223-23; 1Peter 1: 17-21; Luke 24: 13-35
I mentioned in my homily last week that, one of the things I like about our Sunday Gospels, is that they’re often episodic . . . that the Gospel that we hear one weekend, is sometimes a continuation of the Gospel we heard the previous week, or have been hearing over the course of several weeks. And that’s the case today. Although this is the Third Sunday of Easter, our Gospel today is still taking us back to what happened on that first Easter Sunday around 33 AD.
Today we hear what happened in the mid-to-late afternoon, as two downcast, depressed, disheartened, discouraged and disillusioned disciples walked to a town called Emmaus, seven miles outside of Jerusalem. They discuss with one another the events of the past weekend: how the one they hoped would be the Messiah was violently, brutally, put to death. But today, their grief and disillusionment has joined hands with their confusion and bewilderment at the reports that now, three days later, His body has disappeared from its resting place. These two are met up with someone they mistakenly believe is a stranger, who, through the course of their seven-mile trek, breaks open the Scriptures for them and shows them why it was necessary for the Messiah to suffer and die. But it isn’t until he breaks the loaf of bread with them that their eyes are opened. He is no stranger. He is Jesus.
I love that Scripture passage for numerous reasons. But I also find it intriguing . . . what prevented Cleopas and his unnamed companion from recognizing Jesus? You would think, that being in his company on a seven-mile trip, at some time they would have recognized Him! I checked on Google just how long such a trip would have taken. I found out that the average person, walking at a moderate pace, walks one mile in about twenty minutes. And so, the stroll from Jerusalem to Emmaus would have taken at least two hours and twenty minutes! TWO HOURS AND TWENTY MINUTES??? And they don’t recognize the one they’ve been following, pinning their hopes on, loving, and now mourning??? How is that possible?
We could engage in a lot of speculation, but the fact is, there’s probably no way that, in this life, we’ll ever find out the answer to that question. But there is a question that we can find the answer to – What prohibits us from recognizing the Jesus that travels with us on our personal roads to Emmaus?
Well there’s lots of possible explanations to that question. Maybe I’m just too busy. Or maybe I’m too lazy. Maybe there are other people or other things in my life that blind me to his presence. Or maybe I’m afraid that, if I do recognize his presence, there are changes I should make that either I don’t want to make or aren’t ready to make. So, if I don’t recognize him, but want to, where can I find him? Our Gospel today gives us three really good starting places.
Number One: “He interpreted to them what referred to him in all the Scriptures.” In other words, the REALITY of who He is, the MYSTERY of who He is, the TRUTH of who He is was broken open for them through the words of Sacred Scripture. Want to find Jesus? Open up your Bibles . . . He’s THERE! How about you? In the past six weeks or so, have you taken your Bible off the shelf, dusted off its cover, and allowed Jesus to speak to you in what’s written there? Have you searched for answers to your questions, searched for words to calm your fears, deepened your knowledge of God’s presence throughout human history, seen for yourself that God has never abandoned his people, by picking up your Bible and reading. Have you sought an inspiration for the day, a message that God is trying to let you know, right then and right there, by engaging in what some people call “Bible Roulette” and simply thumbing through the Bible, stopping at a random page, closing your eyes and pointing to a particular passage and reading it, convinced that that’s what God wants to tell you? Try it! More often than not, it works. Or have you paused as you scroll through the endless posts on Facebook and taken time to read and reflect on the post that contains the one verse or one passage that a friend felt so meaningful for their lives, they wanted to pass it on to you? As Jesus broke open the Scriptures to the two on the road to Emmaus, let him break forth into your life through His most sacred word.
Number Two: “They recognized Him in the breaking of the bread,” the Eucharist. Although recent surveys tell us that 70% of our fellow Catholics no longer believe in the true presence of Christ in the Eucharist, the TRUTH is the TRUTH! And the TRUTH is that the Eucharist IS the body, blood, soul and divinity of Christ. Not a sign, not a symbol, not a nostalgic glance back at the Last Supper! Want to recognize Jesus? Recognize that reality! Adore Him! Receive Him! “Oh but Deacon, I can’t do that in this pandemic lockdown. And doing it remotely, through livestreams and praying the “Prayer of Spiritual Communion” just isn’t cutting it for me.” GOOD! Let me ask you: Has your desire for Jesus heightened over the past six weeks? Has your devotion to His sacramental presence deepened? Has your conviction of His true presence in the Eucharist actually become stronger, having now been deprived of what you previously took for granted? Do you now truly hunger and thirst to participate in the sacrificial meal and be satiated at the Eucharistic banquet? When the doors to our church are reopened, will you ever look upon the Eucharist in the same way as you did in the past? Do you now possess a deeper love and a more profound appreciation for the Eucharist than you ever had before? I hope so. I know I do.
Number Three: “Jesus himself drew near and walked with them, but their eyes were prevented from recognizing him.” Jesus appeared to the two on the road to Emmaus as a stranger, as someone else. Likewise, could Jesus be making himself present to you in the words and actions of others, even in the midst of our pandemic lockdown?
- How about the Frontliners - the doctors, the nurses, the other health care professionals, the police officers, fire fighters, rescue squad volunteers and all those who continue to put their own lives on the line for us. In them do you see Jesus’ sacrificial love?
- How about our teachers, who on such short notice, have had to become adept at teaching remotely and creatively in ways that were never taught in any Methods in Education class they took in college. In them do you see Christ’s complete dedication to us?
- What about the parents whose love and patience has been put to test and their vocation as mom and dad taken on new dimensions as they’re now with their children 24/7 and have added “Teacher” to their parental resume. In them do you see the presence of Christ’s selflessness?
- What about our priests who had to learn livestreaming on the fly and not only use it to celebrate the Mass, but Adoration, the Divine Mercy Chaplet, the Rosary and Morning Prayer, as well. Or how about the priests who have thought outside of the box and have built confessional sheds or engage in “drive through” confessions? In them have you noticed the presence of Christ’s constant love?
- Or what about some of own parishioners who have used their time and talents to make masks for those who need them or have used their own resources to buy breakfasts and lunches to deliver to area hospitals. Or how about those friends who have called, texted or messaged you on Facebook to say, “Hi. How you doing? Do you have enough food? If you need anything, just let me know.” In them, have you seen the presence of Christ’s compassion?
Yes, Jesus might not look like he does in the statues and stained-glass windows that adorn our churches or the pious pictures of classic works of art. But look around. Squint you eyes. Adjust your focus. He’s present. He’s here. He just looks different than you thought.
Jesus . . . hidden in the words of a book.
Jesus . . . hidden in bread and wine.
Jesus . . . hidden in the face of a stranger.
Jesus . . . hidden . . . but always present.
Video Version of this Homily
Video Version of this Homily