In most Catholic households, it is a tradition to have a depiction of the Last Supper in the dining room. However, in the parish house, I have hung a print of Caravaggio’s second Supper at Emmaus. It’s a bit more subdued than the 1602 version, but I like it. In fact, I like everything about the Emmaus story.
Principally, I like how the story is constructed. The framework in which the narrative unfolds is unmistakably the same as the Order of the Mass. Our first hint comes from the punchline about how they recognized him “in the breaking of the bread.” Indeed, “fractio panis” was a sort of buzz word for the Mass in the early Church. An early Christian would have picked up on the reference immediately.
You will recall that the Order of the Mass has four main parts in which we gather, we share our stories, we break the bread, and we are sent forth. Officially, these are known as the Introductory Rites, the Liturgy of the Word, the Liturgy of the Eucharist and the Dismissal. Just as the Mass is timeless in its relevance, reading the story within this framework can help us understand it and apply it to our present circumstances.
The story opens with the two disciples heading away from Jerusalem to a place called Emmaus. Emmaus was a small resort town not far from Jerusalem, sort of like Girdwood is to Anchorage. The appearance of the Risen Christ as they walk along discussing the passion and death of Jesus is consistent with his earlier saying, “wherever two or three are gathering in my name, there I am in their midst.” So they are, and so he is.
I think it is important for us to remember this in our present circumstances. While am heartened by the gradual lifting of certain health restrictions, in reality it will be some time before it is safe for us to gather as a parish community. It is comforting to know that Christ does not abandon us during this time. Christ is truly risen, and he certainly more powerful than any microbe. When we pray together in our homes, when we video conference with our small groups or FaceTime with our prayer partners, Christ is in our midst, just as he was for the two disciples on the road to Emmaus. Where two or three of us are gathered in his name, by any means, Christ is present in our midst. He is truly risen, even if we sometimes do not recognize him right away.
There is no shame in that. The two disciples did not recognize him either. I love how Jesus is so coy in drawing them out of themselves. It’s a simple exchange: “Hey, guys! What’s up? What are you talking about?”
“Are you the only one in Jerusalem who doesn’t know about the things that have gone on there?
“What things?”
At this point, the disciples have a choice. They can change the subject, lest they reveal themselves as disciples of Jesus, or they can share their story and the questions of faith that they are dealing with. They choose the latter and that’s when things get real.
So they share their experience of the passion and death of Christ, but they don’t know what to make of it. Fair enough. Who would? So Jesus goes to work putting their experience into context as he explains everything that referred to him in the scriptures and how the Christ had to suffer. What an incredible Liturgy of the Word that must have been! Can you imagine having the scriptures explained to you by the very Incarnate Word of God?! What a privilege. What a gift!
In these past weeks, we too have been given the unique privilege and gift of time to encounter Christ more deeply in the sacred scriptures. What an opportunity to take some of that time and set it aside to spend some time with the Word. There are lots of ways to do this. Here are just a few suggestions.
– Take ten minutes every day, perhaps right after dinner, to read the Gospel of Luke to each other. Have a different person in the house read each day, maybe reading a chapter or a section each evening.
– On the weekend, do the same thing with the Sunday readings. Have one person read and each listener share one thing from the sacred text that stood out for them.
– View an online course at formed.org or Word on Fire.
Just like the disciples on the road to Emmaus, we have the gift of time to spend with the Word. Let’s not waste it.
The story goes on. As they near the village Jesus toys with them again, perhaps testing their faith. He pretends to continue on, but the two disciples prevail and they all sit down for supper. What happens next is at once simple and amazing. As he had done so many times before, Jesus takes what is before him and transforms it into the means of grace.
Our first clue comes when the words used to describe his actons are exactly the same ones that Luke uses earlier to describe the Last Supper.
…he took bread, said the blessing,
broke it, and gave it to them.
The reference is unmistakable—for the two disciples, for the early Church, and now for us. Jesus is doing exactly what he did at the Last Supper. This is the Eucharist, Christ truly and substantially present in the appearance of bread and wine.
Many scholars think that is why he vanished from their sight. Present in the sacrament, his physical presence is simply not necessary. From now on, it is in the fractio panis, the breaking of the bread, where he is recognized by those who believe in him. Powerful stuff.
They don’t seem to have realized it, but the power of this moment is exactly what they were yearning for earlier during their ambulatory Liturgy of Word. I’m struck by the phrase “Were not our hearts burning within us…?” Their encounter with Christ in the scriptures leads to a burning desire for more intimate union with Christ. This finds its fullest expression in the Eucharist.
So what about us? What about now? Perhaps in one sense, some real spiritual good can come from this extended Eucharistic fast, this COVID-19 “Inter-MISSION.” Are not our hearts burning within us? Perhaps absence does make the heart grow fonder in a holy longing for deeper intimacy and full communion with Christ and his Church
It is important to remember that the while the reception of Holy Communion is the fullest expression of our union with Christ, we must distinguish between the relationship itself and the expression of the that relationship.
Married couples give us a good example of this. My mom and dad had a great marriage of 47 years. Being of good Irish and Danish stock, they were not overly public in their displays of affection…but they did have eight kids, so that says something. They had a deep, loving and fruitful relationship. But there were times when they were separated from each other, sometimes for weeks at a time. During those times, there were no hugs, no kisses, nor anything else that goes along with showing how much they loved each other. But their relationship was deeper and more profound than their inability to express it. It did not cease to exist simply because they could not be with each other for a period of time. In some ways, it grew deeper so that its expression was all the more profound when they were finally reunited. Did I mention that they had eight kids?
So it is in our relationship with Christ and the Eucharist. There is the reality of our relationship with Christ, and there the expression of that relationship in the Eucharist. At present, we may be separated for a time, but will that not make our reunion all the more powerful? Are not our hearts burning within us? That may not be such a bad thing for now.
A second thought – as soon as they recognize him in the breaking of the bread, he “vanished from their sight.”
In a certain sense, because we cannot gather for Mass, we may be tempted to feel that Christ has disappeared from our midst, that he is somehow absent. But is he really?
Listen to the text again. It simply says, “…he vanished from their sight.” It does not say that he abandoned them. Otherwise, how could he say elsewhere, “I am with you always, even to the end of the age”? He did not abandon them then, and he does not abandon us now. For “nothing can separate us from the love of Christ.”
Now, after all this, the two disciples could have remained where they were, contemplating in wonder all that had just happened. But they do not. They cannot! They are compelled to share their experience of the Resurrection with others.
So it is with each of us. Sure, we may be hunkered down, but as the meme says, the church isn’t empty, “The Church is deployed.” Right now we are where we are because God needs us in our homes in our neighborhoods for a reason.
Perhaps it is to check in on an elderly or infirmed neighbor. Perhaps to get back in touch with loved ones, maybe even the ones under your own roof. Perhaps to be a witness of the Resurrection in a way that you have never thought possible before.
The two disciples on the road to Emmaus can teach us much in our present circumstances. Understood within the framework of the Order of the Mass, we see
1) that whenever and wherever two or three are gathered in his name, Christ indeed is in their midst. It was true for them; it is true for us.
2) that an encounter with the Word of God evokes in us a holy longing where our hearts are burning within us for deeper intimacy with our Lord. It was true for them; it is true for us.
3) that while our relationship with Christ is best expressed in the sacred assembly it is not limited only to it, any more than the relationship of a married couple is defined solely by their ability to express it. “Nothing can separate us from the love of Christ.” It was true for them; it is true for us.
4) that even now we are sent into the world, or at least that little part of the world in which we find ourselves, to be witnesses of the resurrection because that is where God needs us to be. It was true for them; it is true for us.
Like the two disciples on the road to Emmaus, we all have a choice to make. When asked, we can change the topic or we can face our fears and reveal ourselves as disciples of Jesus Christ.
My prayer for us, is that like them, we do not shy away from our calling; but that we share our story to be numbered among the saints as witnesses of the resurrection.