The Road which leads to the Eucharist

Third Sunday of Easter Year A

Today’s gospel reading is a bit of an anomaly, a departure from what we would have expected. In Cycle A of the lectionary, the gospel selections are normally taken from the Gospel of St Matthew and in the season of Lent and Easter, we are also treated to passages from the Fourth Gospel, that of St John’s. But today, we are given this famous passage taken from the Gospel of St Luke. It’s the story of the two disciples on the road to Emmaus. Their faith had died along with the man whom they had trusted and followed. At the beginning of the story, the two are weighed down by the heavy spectre of death, like an albatross hung around their necks … the power of the resurrection had yet to touch them.

This story, therefore, connects our Lord’s story with ours. His resurrection is not just a one-off event exclusively experienced by Him alone. The resurrection is often viewed primarily as the awesome miracle that validates the teachings of Christ and vindicates Him against His accusers. But it is more than such crowning evidence – much more. Through faith, His resurrection can become ours - and we see this amazing phenomena in the story of the road to Emmaus.

These two disciples, like so many of Jesus’ followers, were trying to make sense of their pain and loss. Their walk to Emmaus must have felt like a walk in the desert, in the darkness of death, where hope had been abandoned. The reason why this story resonates with so many of us is because we have been there in that dark place, walking, trudging along as we drag our feet through the valley of death and tears. That is the condition of humankind unable to find hope when they have not encountered the Risen Christ. There is no need for me to remind you that life is full of contradictions, pain, and a lack of answers. There is unimaginable darkness in this world, and we often seem to have to face it alone.

The death of Jesus on the cross was the epitome of all the contradictions and evil, for if there was going to be a solution and an end to our despair, it would be in the hands of the Saviour that God had sent to us. But as far as the disciples are concerned, He is dead. If our Saviour is dead, then there is no hope.

And so on this path of darkness, our Lord appears to them and accompanies them. He recounts the whole story again, but this time invites them to enter into that story and walk with Him, as He walks along with them. He helps them see that the entire fabric of scripture is focused on Him, finds fulfillment in Him and can only be understood in Him. Here we see the amazing Spirit inspired gift of story-telling – a story of contrast – as these disciples walk home, the evening draws near and it gets darker. But in terms of their faith, as the Lord begins to expound on the scriptures and open their minds to the secrets therein, their faith becomes brighter.

But the moment of recognition will not come at the end of this long biblical exposition. It must have been an exceedingly long sermon because it would have been preached from morning till late evening. Most of you would not have been able to sit quietly through a 10 minute homily by the priest each Sunday - perhaps the solution is not found in making the homily shorter, but longer! The Word of God must ultimately lead to the Sacrament. It is in the Eucharist that the Word becomes flesh. And so, St Luke is using the very same words which he had used in Chapter 22 to describe the Eucharistic meal. At the table, He took the bread, and blessed and broke it, and gave it to them.

It is in the communion of the Body and Blood of Christ that He gives Himself fully to them. It is in the communion of this broken Body, that they can truly meet the Risen Christ. The opening of the Scriptures was necessary, but it was not sufficient. The Word must lead to the Sacrament because we can only find the Risen Lord fully and be in full communion with Him in the meal of the kingdom, the bread of life, the manna from heaven, the medicine of immortality. The Word of God did not become a book of dead words. The Word became flesh, dwelt among us and now feeds us with His flesh and blood in the Eucharist. By faith, we eat and drink Christ so that eternal life is given to us.

It is here in the Eucharist that we find comfort and renewal from the despair of death, darkness and hopelessness – because in the Mass we are taken to heaven and heaven is brought to us. Heaven and earth meet together in the very Body and Blood of our Risen Lord. If we fully grasp this truth, we can then understand the great tragedy of many Catholics who have chosen not to return to church or who consistently miss Masses on Sundays. They are not just denied the sustenance of a sacred meal. In fact, they deny themselves the only food that can bring them to heaven. Here and at every Mass, we find light in darkness, life in the midst of death, victory in the brokenness, and the sure hope of our resurrection, because we have partaken in the very flesh of the One who was put to death but now, is alive again. May we always recognise Him in the breaking of bread and the sharing of His Body and Blood.