3rd Sunday of Easter

April 19, 2026

How do I recognize the presence of Jesus in my life?

Luke 24:13-35

That very day, the first day of the week, 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 while they were conversing and debating, Jesus himself drew near and walked with them, but their eyes were prevented from recognizing him. He asked them, "What are you discussing as you walk along?" They stopped, looking downcast. One of them, named Cleopas, said to him in reply, "Are you the only visitor to Jerusalem who does not know of the things that have taken place there in these days?" And he replied to them, "What sort of things?" They said to him, "The things that happened to Jesus the Nazarene, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, how our chief priests and rulers both handed him over to a sentence of death and crucified him. But we were hoping that he would be the one to redeem Israel; and besides all this, it is now the third day since this took place. Some women from our group, however, have astounded us: they were at the tomb early in the morning and did not find his body; they came back and reported that they had indeed seen a vision of angels who announced that he was alive. Then some of those with us went to the tomb and found things just as the women had described, but him they did not see." And he said to them, "Oh, how foolish you are!
How slow of heart to believe all that the prophets spoke! Was it not necessary that the Christ should suffer these things
and enter into his glory?" Then beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them what referred to him in all the Scriptures. As they approached the village to which they were going, he gave the impression that he was going on farther. But they urged him, "Stay with us, for it is nearly evening and the day is almost over." So he went in to stay with them. And it happened that, while he was with them at table, he took bread, said the blessing, broke it, and gave it to them.
With that their eyes were opened and they recognized him, but he vanished from their sight. Then they said to each other,
"Were not our hearts burning within us while he spoke to us on the way and opened the Scriptures to us?" So they set out at once and returned to Jerusalem where they found gathered together the eleven and those with them who were saying,
"The Lord has truly been raised and has appeared to Simon!" Then the two recounted  what had taken place on the way
and how he was made known to them in the breaking of bread.

REFLECTIONS ON THE GOSPEL

First Impressions by Jude Siciliano, OP

Acts 2:14,22-33; Psalm 16; 1 Peter 1:17-21; Luke 24:13-35

While we might love the New Testament stories, especially those where Jesus heals or offers forgiveness to needy “outsiders,” there are some that we could label “classics.” Today’s gospel might be called a classic tale. The resurrected Jesus appears to two disheartened disciples, confused and perplexed by the tragic, heartbreaking events of recent days. What happened to these disciples back in Jerusalem confused and disappointed them. It made no sense to them. Perhaps there are events in our families, communities, or the world that confuse us as well. How do we explain events that leave us uncertain? We pray, yet our prayers do not seem to be answered. Our hopes for family, health, unity in our church, or peace in the world do not unfold as we hoped. Still, we keep walking, carrying our disappointments and questions with us. In other words, we are confused disciples on our own road to Emmaus. Let us join the two in the gospel story; perhaps what they discover and learn will help us on our own journey. What is striking in our gospel account is that Jesus comes alongside the two disheartened disciples and, at first, they do not recognize him. He listens to their story, letting them express their disappointment and confusion. Where was their glorious God in the defeat of Jesus? They had hoped he would redeem Israel; instead, Jesus seemed to have let them down. Their dreams were shattered, so they left Jerusalem – the former place of hope – talking about their loss. Many of us can recognize that walk. We have all had moments when our faith felt uncertain; when prayers seemed futile and unanswered; when hopes for ourselves, our families, the church, or the world did not unfold as we had hoped. Like those two disciples, we keep walking, carrying questions and disappointment with us. Jesus often meets us where he met the two travelers to Emmaus – in the course of our own travels. He listens to our sadness; we are invited to tell our stories. We do not hold back as we speak out of our own sorrow. How does Jesus help us come to faith when things seem dire? He does for us what he did for the two: he opens the Scriptures to help us see that God is still at work and has not deserted us to suffering and apparent defeat. Do we expect flashes of light or a thundering voice of God to address our doubts and disenchantment? No – Christ meets us quietly and patiently at surprising moments: in our conversations, daily routines, exchanges with others, and even in our own doubts. At first it may be hard to recognize him in those moments, but later we come to say, “Were not our hearts burning within us?” When did things change for the two on the road? When they said to Jesus, “Stay with us,” and when they sat at table with him. He broke the bread, and their eyes were opened – not in a miraculous or grand display, but in the familiar gesture of broken and shared bread. For Luke’s community, and for us, the message is clear. We encounter the risen Christ in Word and Eucharist, in community and hospitality. They asked him, “Stay with us…,” and he did. Notice what happened next after he revealed himself to them. The two disciples did not stay on their path to Emmaus. They returned to Jerusalem, back to the community they had left. They had encountered the risen Lord, and that encounter sent them back – not only to the community, but to the troubled and confused world they had tried to leave. That might seem surprising. Why not simply go back to their homes, believe in Jesus, and say their prayers? Instead, faith moved them from discouragement to mission, from isolation to community. Faith does that for us too. Our Emmaus story offers us both reassurance and challenge. Christ walks with us even when we do not recognize him. He speaks to us through Scripture and shared prayer. He reveals himself in the breaking of the bread and then sends us back into the world with renewed hope because of the message we have heard and the bread we have shared. As we are told at the end of our Eucharist: “The Mass has ended; go in peace.” Or “Go and announce the Gospel of the Lord.” So, the question after Emmaus is not only, “Did they recognize Jesus?” but “How will they live now that they have?” The early Christians faced that very question once the excitement of the resurrection encounter settled into daily life. They had to learn how to live their faith in ordinary routines, in challenging circumstances, and sometimes in societies that did not understand them. That is where our second reading speaks to us today. Let us look briefly at our second reading from the First Letter of St. Peter. He is speaking to early Christians scattered throughout Asia Minor. They were living in a pagan culture, often feeling like outsiders because of their faith. They were trying to live Christian lives in societies that did not share their values. Sound familiar? Peter calls them “sojourners,” or “exiles,” not because they were literally foreigners everywhere, but because their deepest loyalty – their true citizenship – belonged to God. In many ways their situation mirrors ours, especially as we try to live faithfully in a world with priorities different from our own. Peter reminds them that they were living between resurrection and fulfillment. Like us in this Easter season, they believed and trusted that the risen Christ was enabling them to live their daily lives in hope. Peter is speaking to believers like us who are trying to be faithful in a complicated world. They had to decide what truly lasts and what fades away. So do we. The resurrection tells us that love, mercy, faith, and hope – unlike many things in the world – are not perishable. They endure, and their fruits sustain us. “Perishable things” are not only money or property. They include reputation, comfort, control, youth, success, and even our carefully constructed plans. All these might be good, but none can save us or give us lasting peace. In this Easter season, Peter’s message is both freeing and challenging. We have been saved by something imperishable. Therefore, we are invited to live with lighter hands, deeper trust, and greater compassion. We are called to invest in what lasts: faith, reconciliation, mercy, and service to others. These are treasures that do not fade.

Quotable

“Hope has two beautiful daughters: their names are anger and courage; anger at the way things are, and courage to see that they do not remain as they are.” – Augustine of Hippo

Justice Bulletin Board by Barbara Molinari Quinby, MPS, Director Office of Human Life, Dignity, and Justice Ministries Holy Name of Jesus Cathedral; Raleigh, NC

You were ransomed from your futile conduct. —1 Peter 1:18

There is a lot of duality in all three readings today. The First Reading presents Peter as a changed man. The Second Reading addresses Christian communities with their dual challenge to be uprooted from what they were familiar with and face alienation in a society that misunderstood their newfound religious beliefs. Then, in the Gospel, we have two disciples meeting the Risen Christ. This enduring presence of the risen Christ among his disciples then and his disciples now, radically re-creates their lives and our lives. We have been ransomed from our futile conduct. Do you see the duality? We were once one kind of a person but now we are another. Not only do we have all these ancient witnesses, but we also have the actions of God in our lives AND the promise that our souls will not be abandoned to the netherworld. Our life, like Peter, is a transformed one. This past Lenten season, we have been presented many opportunities to choose a life of merciful service to the poor, the disadvantaged, and to care for the suffering natural world. It is as counter-cultural to help the least of these today as it was in Jesus’ time. Our culture screams at us, “Me, me, me.” The “selfies” photo phenomenon grows stronger. Making it on your own is admired while community life is looked upon as weakness. Introspection is in short supply. In this transformational period of Easter time, we should continue to ask ourselves:

• “Who am I?”

• “Who is God?”

• “Why am I here?”

• “What am I to do with my life as a transformed follower of Jesus?”

As Pope Leo writes in Dilexi Te: Christians too, on a number of occasions, have succumbed to attitudes shaped by secular ideologies or political and economic approaches that lead to gross generalizations and mistaken conclusions. The fact that some dismiss or ridicule charitable works, as if they were an obsession on the part of a few and not the burning heart of the Church’s mission, convinces me of the need to go back and re-read the Gospel, lest we risk replacing it with the wisdom of this world. The poor cannot be neglected if we are to remain within the great current of the Church’s life that has its source in the Gospel and bears fruit in every time and place. Be transformed and, together, we can transform the world.

Faith Book

Mini-reflections on the Sunday scripture readings designed for persons on the run. “Faith Book” is also brief enough to be posted in the Sunday parish bulletins people take home.

From today’s Gospel: They said to him, “The things that happened to Jesus the Nazarene, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, how our chief priests and rulers both handed him over to a sentence of death and crucified him. But we were hoping that he would be the one to redeem Israel.”

Reflection: Hope is the virtue that enables us to dream big dreams and work to put them into reality. But we often need our hopes nourished, because if what we hope for is important----peace, care for the elderly, an end to the death penalty, a rejuvenated and healed church, good liturgy and preaching in our parish, housing for the elderly, an end to domestic violence, equality of women and gays in our churches and communities, fair treatment for immigrants, and so much more—then we will need encouragement, perseverance, passion, clear thinking and the support of a believing and hoping community. We need the Word of God, the Eucharist and a faith community that shares our dreams and gives us hope.

And so we ask ourselves:

• When I am discouraged, who gives me hope?

• Who are the people in the world who kindle hope in me and challenge me to persevere in my good works?

Walking and Listening to Others

“And they recounted how he was made known to them in the breaking of the bread.”

There are times in our lives when things happen either to us or to others we love; and we get frustrated and disappointed in God; maybe even we get mad at God. We certainly do not understand God’s ways. It happens to all of us who have lived long enough. In those moments of suffering, our frustrated response can be explicit or implicit. Explicit is when we just turn around and say “I don’t want anything to do with God.” When God’s name comes up, we just don’t want to talk about it; we actively avoid talking to God or God being talked about in our presence. There are also implicit ways that we do it. We don’t do anything necessarily bad; we just stop doing things. We get busy doing other things. We sort of ignore God by default more than explicitly wanting to have nothing to do with God. The seeds of either are the same: we ignore God. The question is what does God do in those moments with us? How does God minister to us; or how is he present to us? Today’s scripture tells us exactly what happens. Remember these are the disciples who walked with Jesus. They knew Jesus personally. They were his closest allies. They were not one of the twelve apostles but they would have been part of the group that was around him. When Jesus was crucified, they all absconded. They all abandoned him lest we think it was the other way around. They abandoned him and then they got mad at him. They got mad that he wasn’t the messiah. And you could see the frustration in today’s reading. There is powerful symbolism in Luke’s gospel that gives us to key to unlock the meaning of this gospel. Jerusalem is the City of God and Emmaus is considered like Sin City; think Las Vegas. They are walking away from the Holy City of God and walking toward Emmaus, which means that they are walking away from the Church. What does Jesus do? Remember this is the post-Resurrection Jesus. He has risen from the dead. He is glorified. He doesn’t stop them and say, “Hey. Stop. You’re going the wrong way. Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. No. Listen. Look. It’s me. Look. Look. It’s me.” No. He didn’t do any of that. He just walks with them as they walk away. He walks with them as they walk away and listens to their story the whole time. He doesn’t scold them. He doesn’t stop them. He doesn’t challenge them. And as soon as they were done telling their story, only then, did he break open what he had heard them say; and related himself to the scriptures and says: “Oh, how foolish you were; you didn’t see.” And he helps them to focus once again, to look again at what they have seen with a different eyes. And once they see with different eyes, they start to experience it first; their hearts were burning within them but they didn’t recognize him at first. It was only in the breaking of the bread. And then, what it says, “and he vanished from their sight.” So, where did he go? We see in the breaking of the bread, which we will do in just a few moments, we believe that in the receiving of the bread they became him. It isn’t that he vanished. They became the living Body of Christ for others. What did they do after that? They didn’t just go back to Jerusalem; they ran back to Jerusalem. Their conversion was immediate and urgent. This is what God does to us; Jesus accompanies us. He will walk with us as we walk away from Church or faith. We are all here. Right? But there are others who are not here. And Jesus is walking with those as they walk to the periphery of their lives. The question is how does that happen? What does that look like? It is usually in the form of one of us. It is usually in the form of somebody else. We need to be willing to walk with them to the periphery. Ministry just doesn’t only happen at the center of a life; it happens also at the periphery of our life. Barbara Taylor Brown is a great episcopal priest who writes beautiful poetry and books. She talks about the map of the journey of faith. There is a center and there are edges to that map. Ministry happens in both places. While Mother Church focuses most of its attention at the center; the greatest stories of conversion happen at the edges and then the center becomes the custodians of those stories. Our role as disciples is to go to the edges. Our role is to attend to those who are struggling with their faith; who have gone to the edges of their own lives. This is all great theology but how does that happen in our own lives? What does that look like? Let me give you just one example: There was a time I walked away explicitly from God in anger. My best friend was killed in a plane crash. I was 24 years old, and we were inseparable friends. I was so mad at God, once the funeral was over, I was done. I didn’t want to go back to Church. I would not talk to God. I would not listen. And I most certainly would not come to a Church. I was furiously mad at God. Then I immigrated to America, and I lived with my brother, Paul. Every single Sunday, my brother Paul would go to 7pm Mass down at Queen of Apostles. I used to live in Sunnyvale. And every single Sunday before he’d ask, “Do you want to come to Church?” And I’d go “grrrrrrrrrrr” All sorts of stuff would come out of my mouth and generally it would be a no in so many words! And he would go off to Mass. Then he would come back and never say anything. Every Sunday, he would ask, “Do you want to go to Mass?” He would brace himself for the answer. He kept on doing it. Kept on doing it. Until, one Sunday, I was so frustrated in my own life and lonely, realizing that I really needed God and I was starving myself pointlessly. He said, “Do you want to go to Church?” I said, “Yeah. Sure.” And I’ve been going to Church every Sunday ever since. God was present in my life through Paul. He kept on gently asking. He was present every single day of my life. All that time, he was loving me even though I was wounded and hurt, broken, angry and frustrated. But he kept on showing up and kept on inviting me. No guilt. Just love. Just a tender, caring love of showing up every single week. Every single day of my life. There are people in our lives who have lost faith with God. They have lost a relationship with God. They got angry and frustrated like the disciples on the way to Emmaus and like me in my younger years. There are two things that we need to do: Our role is to be on the periphery, on the edge of the map at the journey of life. It is to minister to them. We come back to the center on Sunday to be filled at the table of the Lord; to receive Christ in the breaking of the bread. Yes. That is our privilege. That is our grace. But we must go to feed those on the periphery, on the edge and we must go gently and kindly. We must be willing to just love them where they are at; and gently invite them week after week; knowing that we are the risen Christ to them, listening to their story. Don’t judge. Just listen to their story and love them. And when given the opportunity, invite. For those who are maybe online who are not here in person and maybe feel like they are on the edge, I ask you to be open to somebody in your life who is loving you; who is the presence of Christ now; who is loving you where you are on the periphery of your life. Allow them to be Christ to you and maybe accept the offer or the invitation to come to Church; or to pray a little bit more with the Lord; to be present to him; to listen and to accept that invitation. Whatever is our response, we are called to be both open to the Risen Lord in our own life when we get to the periphery and get angry at God; and also are called to be the Risen Christ to others. Gently. Kindly. Ever so lovingly being present to them. Loving them where they are at the edge of their life. So that they can know that God loves them. That God is there for them in the breaking of the bread.

PREPARATION FOR THE SESSION

Adapted from Sacred Space: The Prayer Book 2025

Presence of God: Jesus, As I come to you today, fill my heart, my whole being, with the wonder of your sacred presence. Help me to become more aware of your presence in my life, and more receptive to that presence. I desire to love you as you love me. May nothing ever separate me from you. ( 1-2 minutes of silence)

Freedom: Jesus, Grant me the grace to have freedom of spirit. Keep me from being bound by desires and actions that are not good for me or others. Cleanse my heart and soul that I may live joyously in your love. ( 1-2 minutes of silence)

Consciousness: Where am I with God? With others in my life? What am I grateful for? Is there something I am sorry for, words or actions that have hurt others, and which I now regret? I take a moment to ask forgiveness of God and of those whom I have hurt. God, I give you thanks for your constant love and care for me. Keep me always aware of your presence in my life. (2-3 minutes of silence)

OPENING PRAYER

Lord, I know I walk with you, but I do not always recognize you. Help me to find you through prayer and the scriptures, and especially through service to those who might need my help and comfort. Trust me to do for others what you do for me.

COMPANIONS FOR THE JOURNEY

From “First Impressions”, A service of the Southern Dominican Province.

Some people who go through a crisis, like a sudden illness, or the death of a loved one, will struggle in their faith and wonder: “Where is God?” “Has God abandoned me?” Or even, “Why is God doing this to me?” When people in crisis hear the Easter accounts, like today’s gospel, they get a case of the, “If only’s...” “If only I had been there with those frightened disciples when Jesus suddenly appeared in their midst, then I would have strong faith.” “If only I had seen his wounded hands and feet, I would have shared with him my own hurts.” “If only I had watched him eat that baked fish by the side of the lake, I would have told him of my own hunger.” Luke’s account of the disciples’ encounter with Jesus on the road is certainly one of the most beautiful in the New Testament. It is a story of two people who were so focused on the past they couldn’t see what was right before their eyes. With the death of Jesus their world collapsed. Walking away from Jerusalem they were also walking away from their dreams. They were going back into darkness, as they tell the stranger who has joined them, “It is nearly evening and the day is almost over.” They weren’t just speaking about the time of the day. They were returning to their old lives, it seemed nothing had changed and things appeared pretty dark for them. When Jesus joined them on their journey Luke tells us, “...their eyes were prevented from recognizing him.” What caused their blindness? Why didn’t they recognize the one they had been following, with whom they had shared their lives? Maybe it was because they had their own idea of what they wanted Jesus to be, some kind of king, or a warrior on a  mighty stallion who would vanquish the Romans. “We were hoping that he would be the one to redeem Israel.” But Jesus was right there in front of them, in the flesh, to show he was alive. Wasn’t that enough? Apparently not, since they didn’t recognize him. Luke wrote his gospel between the years 80-90.  The Emmaus account Is in the last chapter of his gospel. Neither he, nor his  contemporaries, had experienced the risen Christ the way the first disciples had.  Like us, they hadn’t seen him in the flesh. Like us they needed reassurance that Christ was truly risen from the dead and was among them. Like us, life sometimes overwhelmed them, leaving them with questions, confusion and doubts. Luke needed to show his contemporaries how their faith could be strengthened; how Jesus wasn’t a past-tense phenomenon, merely a great historical figure now long gone. We have walked the road to Emmaus. We know how long it is; how it twists and turns; how it doubles back on itself; how confusing it can be; how we can feel lost, even forgotten. The road to Emmaus is a road of fallen expectations. Haven’t there been times in our lives when we have said, “If only I had....” Or, “I wish I hadn’t....”? When we even uttered the words of the dejected travelers, “We were hoping....”  When a marriage didn’t  last… a personal goal never realized... a child went off the deep end... an illness severely limited our capabilities.  Times like these, the  words of the two disciples are ours as well, “We were hoping....” By the way he tells his story Luke is helping his contemporary Christians and us see the risen Christ with us. Notice the important elements: Jesus begins by explaining the Scriptures to them.  In other words, the biblical Word of God is proclaimed and explained so that new insight is given to the disciples. Then, as we do in worship, after having the Word of God opened for them, the needy disciples gather around the table with Jesus where bread is blessed, broken and given to them. In both this gospel and the Acts of the Apostles (his second volume) Luke uses the term, “the breaking of the bread” -- which was, and still, is a term used for the Eucharist. Luke is describing the encounter with the resurrected Christ in terms of the community’s liturgical  experience. With them our “eyes are opened” and we meet the risen Lord when we gather to hear the Word of God and “break the bread” together.

LIVING THE GOOD NEWS

What action can you take in the next week as a response to today’s reading and discussion? Keep a private journal of your prayer/actions responses this week. Feel free to use the personal reflection questions which follow.

Reflection Questions:
On my journey, what hopes have I had?
Have I ever wondered if it is all worth it?
What have been my disappointments?
Have I ever wondered if I matter?

Have I ever found myself walking away from a situation, a relationship or even my religion, because nothing had worked and I did not know how to go on?
Did my disappointment and regrets keep me from seeing the possibilities right in front of me?

How was hope and energy restored to me?
What was the role of another in helping me turn around?
Did focusing on the needs of someone around me help me pull out of a self-defeating funk?
What was the role of my religion or the scriptures in giving me comfort or a new direction?

Has there been a special companion on my journey of faith?

Has there been a time in my life when I was discouraged and then my eyes were opened to discover that Jesus was actually walking with me?

Has there ever been a time in my ordinary life that Christ was actually there, but I did not notice him?
Is Christ there now?

What is the difference between seeing and recognizing?
In the Eucharist we do not see Jesus, but we recognize him….is that true for me?
In the people I meet every day,I might not see Jesus, but do I recognize him in them?

The late renowned homilist Walter Burghardt, S.J., wrote that recognition for the disciples came in three stages: when they were walking together and sharing their disappointments; then when the stranger in their midst began interpreting the scriptures for them; and finally, after their invitation to dine, they recognized him fully in the breaking of the bread. So too, we can recognize Christ when we gather together, when we read, hear and try to understand scripture—either alone or in our small groups, and finally, at the Eucharistic table. Do I have a sense of coming to gradual recognition of Jesus in my life?
Do I realize that this is not a one-time process, but one that recurs all throughout my spiritual life?

Like the journey of the disciples to Emmaus, our life is a faith journey. Where am I in my journey, and what do I need to help me along the way?
On my journey, what have been some high points that caused “my heart to burn within me?”
What have been some signs of God present in my life?
How do I listen to and wrestle with scripture?
Is the Eucharist central to my relationship with Jesus?

Do I trust God enough to pour out my heart to Him?

C.S. Lewis, in a homily called “The Weight of Glory”, said: “Next to the Blessed Sacrament itself, your neighbor is the holiest object presented to your senses….for in your neighbor is Christ.” Do I actually see my neighbor as Christ in my own life?

Have there ever been Easter moments in my life?

PRAYER

Don’t forget to provide some prayer time at the beginning and at the end of the session (or both), allowing time to offer prayers for anyone you wish to pray for.

Stay with me Lord, for it is toward evening. The busy world is hushed, the fever of the day is over, and the work of my day is done. As you walked with me, beside me every minute today, be with me in my rest. Give me comfort and repose this day. I hope to do the same for others I need along the way.

WEEKLY MEMORIZATION

Taken from the gospel for today’s session: Stay with us, for it is nearly evening and the day is almost over.

FOR THE WEEK AHEAD

Meditations

A Meditation in the IgnatianStyle/Imagination: Read the story of the journey to Emmaus (Luke 24: 13-32) Try to imagine what the apostles have been doing and how they have been feeling over the last two days. Then picture yourself in their place as they walk down that road to Emmaus. What do you see? hear? What are your feelings about all that has happened? Picture the scene as a strange man walks up to you and begins to ask about your feelings. How would you respond? Why do you not recognize Jesus? Imagine your feelings as you share the story of what the women told you, and then again as Jesus talks to you. Imagine the moment of surprise and joy as you recognize Jesus. How do you feel about seeing Jesus “alive?” Talk to Jesus as you would if you had actually been there that day, telling him of your sadness and then your happiness.

A Meditation in the Dominican Style/Asking Questions: T.S. Eliot, in “the Dry Salvages” poem of “Four Quartets”, wrote,
“We had the experience, but missed the meaning,
And approach to the meaning restores the experience
In a different form, beyond any meaning we can assign to happiness.”
Recognition of Jesus was not a magic act that was indisputable proof of his divinity, nor was it only open to those with brains or money, or religious position. Walter Burghardt, S.J. commented that recognition of Jesus was only open to believers. What, then, is needed, is grace freely offered and a response on the part of the believer. Note that even Jesus’ special friends could not recognize Jesus for much of their journey What is the difference between seeing and recognizing?
Have I ever had an experience, the importance of which was lost on me at the moment, but which I understood much later?
We each have different ways to come to recognition: the beauty of MemChu; a community of shared belief and prayer life; love of spouse, child, friends, parents, even pets; the selflessness of health workers and first responders, the kindness of another; the joy exhibited by a young child; memories of loved ones. Has this ever happened in my spiritual experience? Spend a little time thinking of the ways in which you might come to recognize God’s love and the presence of Jesus in your midst.

A Meditation in the Dominican style/Asking Questions: (Adapted from Sacred Space, a service of the Irish Jesuits) In looking at this Gospel, we see that all the ingredients of the Christian life are here. Where do you find yourself in this scenario?

• Running away from where Christ is to be found. We do it all the time.

• Meeting Jesus in the unexpected place or person or situation. How many times does this happen and we do not recognize him, or worse mistreat him?

• Finding the real meaning and identity of Jesus and his mission in having the Scriptures fully explained. Without the Scriptures we cannot claim to know Jesus. Yet how many Catholics go through life hardly ever opening a bible?

• Recognizing Jesus in the breaking of bread, in our celebration of the Eucharist. The breaking and sharing of the bread indicates the essentially community dimension of that celebration, making it a real “com-union” with all present.

• The central experience of Scripture and Liturgy draws us to participate in the work of proclaiming the message of Christ and sharing our experience of it with others that they may also share it.

• The importance of hospitality and kindness to the stranger. “I was hungry… and you did/did not feed…” Jesus is especially present and to be found and loved in the very least of my brothers and sisters.

A Meditation in the Franciscan Style/Action:
Can I see the face of Jesus wherever I look—
in the sick and the dying?
in the health care workers?
in the grocery store clerks?
in those defying safe-distance protocols?
in the person whose political views I despise?
in the homeless?
in the people who don’t look like me, speak like me, pray like me?
I spend this week making sure that I can find the face of Jesus in everyone I meet—without exception!

POETIC REFLECTION

Could you imagine yourself in this situation?

The Servant Girl at Emmaus — A Painting by Velasquez
She listens, listens, holding
her breath. Surely that voice
is his--the one
who had looked at her, once, across the crowd,
as no one had ever looked?
Had seen her? Had spoken as if to her?
Surely those hands were his,
taking the platter of bread from hers just now?
Hands he’d laid on the dying and made them well?
Surely that face--
The man they’d crucified for sedition and blasphemy.
The man whose body disappeared from its tomb.
The man it was rumored now some women had see this morning, alive?
Those who had brought this stranger home to their table
don’t recognize yet with whom they sit.
But she is in the kitchen, absently touching the winejug she’s to take in,
a young black servant intently listening,
swings round and sees
the light around him
and is sure.
—Denise Levertov from The Stream and the Sapphire

LITERARY REFLECTION

How does this poem by Thom Gunn reflect what the apostles needed after Jesus’ death? How does it reflect what we may need when we have lost someone?

The Reassurance
About ten days or so
After we saw you dead
You came back in a dream.
I’m all right now you said.
And it was you, although
You were fleshed out again:
You hugged us all round then,
And gave your welcoming beam.
How like you to be kind,
seeking to reassure.
And yes, how like my mind
To make itself secure.