Our Road to Emmaus

There’s a story told about Karl Barth, a famous Protestant theologian of the last century, who lived and lectured in Basil, Switzerland. He was riding a streetcar one day when a stranger, obviously a tourist, got on and sat down next to him. The two men started talking with each other. "Are you new to the city?" Barth inquired. "Yes," said the tourist. "Is there anything you’d particularly like to see here?" asked Barth. "Yes," he said, "I'd love to meet the famous theologian Karl Barth. Do you know him?" Barth replied, "Well, as a matter of fact, I do. I give him a shave every morning." The tourist got off the streetcar at the next stop, quite delighted with his luck. And all the way back to his hotel he kept saying to himself, "I met Karl Barth's barber today." We’ve all been there. Sometimes we get so fixated on our own perceptions, our own framework, that we fail to recognize the reality that’s right before our eyes.

We see that in our Gospel story today. Two disciples of Jesus, Cleopas and an unnamed disciple, are fleeing Jerusalem. They’re on the road, headed to Emmaus, a town about seven miles away. The two are talking about what’s happened the past few days. Disappointed, dejected, and confused, they don’t know what to think. Jesus, the rabbi they were sure was the Messiah, is gone - beaten, humiliated, and hung on a cross. Everything they expected and hoped for has been crushed and torn apart. They don’t know where to turn, and world looks very dark.

Then they’re joined by a man they don’t recognize, a stranger, as they walk along the road. He asks them what they’re talking about. When they tell him, he rebukes them for their lack of faith: “Oh, how foolish you are! How slow of heart to believe all that the prophets spoke!” And he proceeds to give them a new interpretation of what happened in Jerusalem. He gives them a new understanding and a new hope.

When they get to their destination, they invite the stranger to stay with them, as it’s getting onto evening. And while they’re eating, he takes the bread, says a blessing, breaks the bread, and gives it to them. And in that moment, in the breaking of the bread, they recognize the stranger as Jesus, the Risen Christ. And he vanishes from their sight.

“Take, bless, break, and give” - the same actions we heard Jesus take at the Last Supper when he gave us the Holy Eucharist. We’ll hear them again very shortly in our Mass as well, as we do in everyEucharistic celebration. And in the breaking of the bread, Christ is made known to us as well.

If you think about it, our gathering here, this celebration of the Mass - this is OUR Road to Emmaus. Each time we come together for Mass, we make this same journey. In the Liturgy of the Word, we break open the Scriptures to better understand the truth of our faith, that we might truly recognize Christ in the breaking of bread at the Eucharistic consecration.

And 2000 years later, as we celebrate the Mass, we’re a lot like the disciples on the Road to Emmaus. They’re locked into their understanding of Scripture and the messianic prophecies, and a crucified Jesus just doesn’t fit. They need help to see the truth - someone to open it up for them. And without that guide, they can’t recognize the risen Lord in their midst.

We’re not so different. The world today can be a scary place. It’s easy to become disheartened, to question our faith, and turn away in despair. What we see around us doesn’t fit with what we learned in our grade school catechism about the Bible and its message. We’ve become prisoners of a static understanding of the Scriptures and of our faith, much like the travelers to Emmaus.

But faith and our understanding of Scripture can’t be static. Doctrine develops over time, as understanding evolves. When the author wrote Psalm 16, our Responsorial Psalm today, he wrote it as prophecy, without understanding its true meaning. In our first reading, Peter amplifies it’s meaning for his Jewish audience based on the new knowledge of HIS time - the knowledge of Christ risen from the dead. And in the two millennia since, the Church has come to better understand its meaning today as well. That’s how doctrine develops, how faith evolves.

Development of doctrine is not a question of old OR new, but of old AND new - complimenting rather than contradicting, cooperation over rivalry, None of the old is swept away, Our Church and our faith is both traditional AND progressive, maintaining our roots // while evolving our doctrine. Our understanding of God’s Word must be too, lest we get trapped in our own minds, in what we think we know.

We’re on the road to Emmaus right now, along with Cleopas and his companion. We too know the facts, but we struggle with what they mean. Our vision is clouded by what we think we know. We’re confused & unsure. And yet, the source of all joy, hope, and consolation is right there with us, waiting to be recognized. It’s pretty simple, really. To fully recognize and embrace Christ in the Eucharist, we need to know who he really is. Like the disciples, we need a guideto lead us to understanding.

Lucky for us, we HAVE such a guide in the Word of the Lord. Our journey to Emmaus / and communion with the Risen Lord / leads through Sacred Scripture. There’s no other path. We need to put aside what we think we know, and open our Bibles with fresh eyes and open hearts — to learn anew the true story of who Jesus really is. And as we study God’s Word — whether alone, in pairs, or in a group — we need to listen for a stranger’s voice explaining where we’re wrong and leading us back to truth.

Our road to Emmaus can be complex and long. We struggle at times, and that’s okay. Don’t lose hope. We don’t walk alone. It’s a journey out of darkness to a living, growing faith, // and a journey worth making. For only through what we hear and learn from Christ on the way / can we truly know and embraceHim in the breaking of bread at journey’s end. And only then will we become truly and fully alive to a life of faith and joy in our Risen Lord.