An old Broadway show and movie was entitled, “A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum.” Today’s Gospel passage might be entitled “A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Emmaus.” Actually, not a funny thing, but a mysterious and wondrous thing—an encounter with the Risen Lord. Let’s consider the experience of Clopas and place ourselves in the sandals of his unnamed companion. Let us make this journey to Emmaus.
It is an unusual and melancholy journey to be sure...unusual because we are going in the wrong direction. We are moving away from Jerusalem, away from the light and the resurrection. It is melancholy because the crucifixion of Jesus has discouraged us. Its shameful ending without glory and without resistance shattered all our hopes and expectations. Were we deceived? How can we believe what the women and the apostles told us? It is midday as we set out but in reality we are experiencing a great darkness.
Suddenly a stranger joins us and takes an interest in our conversation. We presume he is a pilgrim making his way home from Jerusalem after Passover. But he must be clueless. How could he be oblivious to the passion and death of Jesus in Jerusalem?
The stranger, of course, is Jesus but we fail to recognize him. We are unaware of the presence of the very Lord we lament. How ironic that we think ourselves more knowledgeable than he about the events of the past days; that we would have to tell him about all that has happened!
But now something mysterious and wondrous occurs. There is a reversal of roles. He is the one who is knowledgeable while we are the ones who are ignorant. This intriguing stranger opens our minds to the scriptures. He unlocks for us the meaning of the passages that pertain to Christ. He provides us with the full understanding of the life and mission of the Messiah. Nothing had gone wrong. Nothing was out of control.
While we take in his extensive bible lesson, our hearts are burning within us. We want to know more. The sun is setting. It is getting dark but now our spiritual darkness clears and a bright light fills us. This stranger has lifted our burdens, restored our hope, and given meaning to our pain.
We press him to stay and dine with us. Once again, there is a reversal of roles. We invite the stranger to a meal but he becomes the host. During the meal he takes bread, blesses it, breaks it and gives it to us. It is then that our eyes open and we recognize that this stranger is none other than Jesus Himself. Once recognized, he vanishes from our sight.
This entire experience has been a Mass: from the gathering of two or three, to the instruction in Scripture and to the Eucharist, the breaking of the bread.
The journey to Emmaus symbolizes the journey of life. The Risen Lord is our companion along the way, never abandoning us, even in moments of doubt, discouragement, weakness and pain. We need only to recognize him in his Word and in his Eucharist, to encounter him in Holy Mass. They are the gifts that sustain us on life’s journey. Just as the disciples are changed after their encounter with the Lord, at Mass we are given the strength and courage to change and share the joy of Christ with all we meet. I should like to think that these COVID-19 days have deepened our appreciation and longing for the Mass for as the proverb goes, “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”
The Emmaus experience teaches us that at Mass, our load gets lighter and our way gets brighter. We have but to repeat again and again the words of the disciples of Emmaus: “Stay with us. Abide with me.”
I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless;
Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness;
Where is death’s sting? Where, grave, thy victory?
I triumph still, if Thou abide with me.