Third Sunday of Easter – Year A

 WHY DOES A BRIDE CRY?

The loved one experiences an irrepressible need to be on the side of the man she loves. In the silence of the night, she thinks of him. She says his name and dreams of his caresses: “His left hand is under my head and his right hand embraces me” (Song 8:3). She is desolate unless she receives a message from him. When she hears his voice, she is seized with tremor. She runs to open the door, turns the key, and unlocks it. But the loved one is no longer there. He turns, leaves, and disappears. My soul goes after him (Song 5:5-6).

“They have taken away my Lord” (Jn 20:13)—Mary Magdalene exclaims through her tears. The two disciples walk sadly on the road to Emmaus. The women turn their faces toward the ground, looking at the tomb for he who is alive (Lk 24:5). They are the living portrait of the community that can no longer notice ‘the beloved of her heart.’ With him, every night was transformed into light, the sunset a prelude to dawn, the pain of the announcement of birth, tears in the blossoming of a smile.

‘Stay with us’—the bride begs—when the Lord appears to act ‘as if he were going farther.’ He promised to stay with her, every day, until “the end of the world” (Mt 28:20). Why does he leave her alone? But it is not he who turns away; she is the one incapable of recognizing him.

As soon as he begins to explain the Scriptures, her heart starts to burn. As the beloved in the Song of Songs, she recognizes the voice of her beloved, and at the breaking of the bread, her eyes light up and recognize him. He had not left her; and will never leave her.

• To internalize the message, we repeat: “Make us hear your voice in the Scriptures, and that we recognize you in the breaking of the bread.”

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First Reading: Acts 2:14a,22-28

Then Peter stood up with the Eleven, raised his voice, and proclaimed: “You who are Jews, indeed all of you staying in Jerusalem. Let this be known to you, and listen to my words. You who are Israelites, hear these words. Jesus the Nazorean was a man commended to you by God with mighty deeds, wonders, and signs, which God worked through him in your midst, as you yourselves know. This man, delivered up by the set plan and foreknowledge of God, you killed, using lawless men to crucify him. But God raised him up, releasing him from the throes of death, because it was impossible for him to be held by it. For David says of him: I saw the Lord ever beforeme, with him at my right hand I shall not be disturbed. Therefore my heart has been glad and my tongue has exulted; my flesh, too, will dwell in hope, because you will not abandon my soul to the netherworld, nor will you suffer your holy one to see corruption. You have made known to me the paths of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence.

“My brothers, one can confidently say to you about the patriarch David that he died and was buried, and his tomb is in our midst to this day. But since he was aprophet and knew that God had sworn an oath to him that he would set one of his descendants upon his throne, he foresaw and spoke of the resurrection of the Christ, that neither was he abandoned to the netherworld nor did his flesh see corruption. God raised this Jesus; of this we are all witnesses. Exalted at the right hand of God, he received the promise of the Holy Spirit from the Father and poured him forth, as you see and hear.”

As on Easter day, today’s First Reading is also taken from a discourse of Peter. If these two passages are compared, we can easily identify that they follow the same pattern: they present the life of Jesus in four stages:

– They tell the wonderful works of good done by him.

– They indicate the people’s response to these gestures of love and salvation; instead of welcoming him, they were rejected, crucified, and killed because they deemed him an impostor.

– The stone of the tomb did not end his story: God intervened and freed him from the power of death.

– In the end, we have reference to the Scriptures: everything that happened was foretold by the prophets.

These speeches are not a transcript of Peter’s exact words. They are a summary of the catechesis about Jesus given in the early days of the Church. This catechesis is placed on the lips of the first of the apostles to emphasize its importance and official nature.

In the third part of the discourse (v. 24), God’s intervention in death is introduced with an image that is particularly incisive in the original Greek text. ‘God—Peter says—forced death to give birth.’ The ancient people imagined that fetuses were laced inside the mother’s womb and at the time of childbirth, breaking them caused the pain. Death always wanted to hold Jesus in her womb, but God intervened. He removed the laces, unfettered, and released him in birth. This was the most important of his works of power: he has drawn life from the womb of death.

Second Reading: 1 Peter 1:17-21

Beloved: If you invoke as Father him who judges impartially according to each one’s works, conduct yourselves with reverence during the time of your sojourning, realizing that you were ransomed from your futile conduct, handed on by your ancestors, not with perishable things like silver or gold but with the precious blood of Christ as of a spotless unblemished lamb.

He was known before the foundation of the world but revealed in the final time for you, who through him believe in God who raised him from the dead and gave him glory, so that your faith and hope are in God.

The baptismal catechesis that started last Sunday continues. The preacher—who speaks in Peter’s name—invites the newly baptized to reflect on their status as children. You—he says—you are born again, and now you can turn to God, calling him Father. You have received from him a new life. That in which you’ve been introduced is a sublime condition, but it also entails serious responsibilities. It requires coherent moral conduct. God is no respecter of persons. If during your ‘pilgrimage’ in this world, you are not faithful to the baptismal commitments that you have taken during your ‘pilgrimage’ in this world, the physical reception of the sacraments will be of no use to you (v. 17).

Then the newly baptized are reminded of the condition they were in before becoming Christians. They led a dissolute life. They adapted themselves to the immoral principles learned from their pagan fathers. They were slaves subjected to the tyrant: sin. Their ransom is dearly paid for: Christ shed his blood to liberate them (vv. 18-19). The paschal lamb, white and without blemish sacrificed by the people of Israel during the celebration of Easter, was just an image. Jesus, the true Lamb without blemish, redeems people from evilwith his own blood.

These are the exhortations with which the preacher of Rome encourages neophytes to lead a holy and blameless life. They cannot render vain the sacrifice of Christ. 

Gospel: 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 Nazorean, 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.

It is the month of April in the year 30 A.D. Two disciples of Jesus went to Jerusalem to celebrate the Passover. They have witnessed dramatic events: the execution of their teacher, a prophet, who was mighty in work and word. The days of this sad feast passed. They prepare to return to Emmaus when someone runs toward them early in the morning with shocking news: the tomb is empty. Some women claim to have seen angels in a vision and say that Jesus is alive. At home, however, they have families waiting for them. It is spring,and it is time to harvest barley, and they must leave. Along the way, a traveler joins them. He accompanies them and, in the evening, something extraordinary happens.

The disciples' story on the road to Emmaus is one of the most beautiful pages of the Gospels. It introduces a celestial world, where dreams, instead of being dissolved, are transformed into reality. After the beauty of this first impression, however, perplexities and questions arise: Where is Emmaus? Yes, it existed twenty miles from Jerusalem, not ten as the text says (Lk 24:13). Some ancient manuscripts, probably to address this, speak of one hundred and sixty stages (about thirty miles), but that creates another problem: it transforms the two disciples into marathon runners.

It is also unlikely that having heard that something extraordinary had happened (vv. 21-24), the two left without having first checked what did happen. Why couldn’t they recognize Jesus in the stranger? What purpose has a miracle of this kind: is it used to create suspense? We notice the text does not say that Jesus was hiding behind a disguise, but that their eyes were kept from recognizing him ... and it is important to establish the reason for this blindness.

Why is the name of the second disciple kept secret? Did Luke forget it? Back in Jerusalem, the two recount to the apostles their experience of the Risen One. They were informed that the Lord also appeared to Simon (vv. 33-35). Then the story continues. While they are gathered and talking about these things, Jesus appears in their midst. Astonished and frightened, they are convinced they are seeing a ghost. They are unable to believe that he is alive. To convince them, he must eat the bread and fish placed before him (Luke 24:36-42). The reaction of the disciples is inexplicable. They seemed to be taken by surprise as if nothing had happened previously.

These are just some of the difficulties that are raised by a literal interpretation of the text. But some studies orient us toward a less superficial reading. How could we not notice, for example, that the sentence: “When he was at table with them, he took bread, said the blessing, broke it, and gave it to them” explicitly recalls the celebration of the Eucharist? And, before sitting down at the table, the mysterious traveler also presides over a solemn liturgy of the Word with its three readings (“and beginning with Moses and all the prophets he explained to them in all the Scriptures ...” [v. 27]) and the excellence of his homily (“Were not our hearts burning within us when he opened to us the Scriptures …” [v. 32]). In short, he officiated over a full-blown liturgy.

Then again, the phrase: "Is it not written that the Christ should suffer all this, and then enter his glory?” (v. 26) is the unopposed proof that the person who is talking is the Jesus already ascended into heaven. This, more than the two disciples on the road to Emmaus, resembles the Christians of the communities of Luke. Let’s try to rebuild it.

We are in Asia Minor in the years 80-90 A.D. Almost all the witnesses to the Risen Lord have disappeared. The Christians of the third generation are asking themselves: will it be possible for us to meet the Lord? How do we know that he is alive if we have never seen him with our own eyes, nor touched him with our hands, and have never sat at table with him? Would we be led to believe just because of what others have told us, as happens in the courts where judges put their trust in credible witnesses? This, however, cannot be called an act of faith but the conclusion of the reasoning of common sense. We also would like to meet the Risen Lord.

Let’s reread Luke’s story as a response to the aspirations and expectations of these Christians. We begin with the name. One of them is called Cleophas (a well-known figure in the early Church because he was Joseph's brother, the ‘father’ of the Lord) and the other? The other could be an invitation to every reader to insert their own name. It is an invitation to go with Cleophas along the path to recognizing the Risen Christ, who is present where two are gathered in his name.

The two disciples are sad: they have seen the collapse of their dreams, the failure of their plans. They expected a glorious Messiah, a mighty and triumphant king, but found themselves in front of a loser. The rabbis taught that the Messiah would live a thousand years; Jesus instead was dead. It is the story of the Christian communities of Luke. They are persecuted, victims of abuse. They see the triumph of the works of death; the wicked are better off than the pure in heart. They find themselves in the same state of mind as the disciples traveling to Emmaus. They also stop, and their faces are sad.

It is our story. We, too, sometimes find ourselves in that state of mind. It happens when we must admit that cunning prevails over honesty when we are forced to acknowledge the lie becomes the official truth imposed by those in power when we see the prophets silenced or killed. Even then, we stop, sad, resigned in the face of an inevitable reality, forced to admit that the new world announced by Jesus probably would never come true.

But can a community, born of faith in the Risen One, indulge in these thoughts of death and give in to sadness? Do the sleepy and distracted but disappointed faces of the many participants in our Sunday assemblies mean anything? Are they signs of certainty in the victory of life or discouragement and hopelessness?

The two disciples of the road to Emmaus are highly familiar with the life of Jesus. They make a perfect summary of it, identical to what was taught in the catechism of the early Church (vv. 19-20), but their synthesis has a serious flaw. It stops upon seeing the triumph of death. “Our leaders—Cleophas explains—handed him over to be sentenced to death and then killed him” (v. 20), and three days have already passed. This death is to be considered final.

Luke deliberately puts the thoughts of many Christians of his communities on their lips. They know well what Jesus did and taught. They considered him a wise person, one who, with his messages of peace and love, has changed the hearts of many people, but he ended up in death, like everyone else. Whoever thinks in this way discovers only the outward appearance, the historical events in the life of Jesus. He does not have faith in him because he does not believe in his resurrection, which cannot be scientifically verified. The consequence of this incomplete knowledge is sadness. Without faith in the resurrection, defeats are defeats; life ends with death, a senseless tragedy.

How did they get to this desperate situation? The two from the road to Emmaus haveresponsibilities. They have made mistakes. First, they left the community as others continued to search for an answer to what had happened. Second, they preferred to go off on their own, convinced that no one could make sense out of the tragedies. They had not checked whether the women’s experience could be enlightening for them. Many Christians behaved that way in the time of Luke: in the face of difficulties and persecution, some abandoned their communities; others, almost on principle, refused the answers that came from faith. They did not even check if they had any logic or made sense.

A third error: The two disciples bound for Emmaus did not have the slightest doubt that their ideas about the triumphant messiah could be wrong. They were stubbornly clinging to tradition, to what they had been taught. They were impervious to the surprises and novelties of God. Jesus does not abandon the people who choose the roads that lead to sadness. He becomes their companion on the journey.

As always happens, the Risen One is not recognizable (someone thinks they are seeing a ghost; Mary Magdalene takes him for a gardener; by the lake, he is considered a skilled fisherman). It is not about miracles. It is a way to present the new situation of one who has entered into the glory of God. It is an entirely different condition from that of this world. The resurrected life is not an extension of the present, and human eyes cannot capture it. That is why the evangelists say that it was Jesus, but he was no longer the same. It was Jesus, whom they had touched, with whom they had eaten and drunk. He was the one who was dead: “Look at my hands and my feet and see that it is I myself” (Lk 24:39)—but he was completely different.

How do Cleophas and the unnamed disciple discover that Jesus, the loser, is the Messiah? How can they understand that life is born from death? The way that the Risen Lord leads them in their travel is through the Scriptures: It is the Word of God that reveals the mystery. Not having understood the Bible, the two disciples reason as men. They cannot see with God’s eye what happened. For this, Jesus reminds them: “How dull you are, how slow of understanding! Is it not written that the Christ should suffer all this, and then enter into this glory?” (vv. 25-26).

The way of the cross is inconceivable and absurd for people. Only the one who reads the Scriptures discovers that God is big enough to extract his masterpiece of salvation fromthe great crime of men. It is not enough to read the Word of God. We must understand it. For this, it is necessary that somebody explains it and possibly enacts it, not as one who transmits an arid theological culture but as one ‘warming the heart.’

In the evening of that first ‘Sunday,’ the disciples arrive home, and Jesus is with them. When they were at table, he “took the bread, said a blessing, broke it, and gave each a piece” (v. 30). It is easy to understand what Luke wants to teach: the eyes of a Christian open and recognize the Risen Christ during the Sunday liturgical celebration.

In the disciples' story on their way to Emmaus, all elements of the celebration of the Eucharist are present. There is the entrance of the celebrant, then the Liturgy of the Word with the homily, and finally, ‘the breaking of bread.’ The disciples ' eyes opened only at the time of the Eucharistic communion, and they realized that the Risen One was in their midst. But without the Word, they would not have come to discover the Lord in the Eucharistic bread.

All must experience the encounter with the Risen One. In the communitarian celebration, they can contemplate him through the sacramental signs, but when they recognize him, he does not disappear, even if the physical eyes cannot see him.

A final important element of this passage: the disciples on the road to Emmaus, as soon as they recognize the Lord, they rush to announce their discovery to their brothers and sisters and with them proclaim their faith: ‘The Lord is truly risen ....’ It is, we can say, the final hymn with which the Sunday celebration concludes. Its notes accompany the disciples for the rest of the week. They are the expression of the joy that they will bring to all people.

I said that Luke wrote for the Christians in the 80-90 A.D. communities and aimed to offer them the way to meet and recognize the Risen Christ in the ‘breaking of bread.’ The way we are invited to travel today is not any different.

READ: The recognition by the disciples in the breaking of the bread indicates the special Eucharistic character of the action. Right from the beginning, the incredible nature of the Eucharist is understood.

REFLECT: Is the Eucharist as central to my life as it might be and as it ought to be? Am I taking full advantage of the greatness by receiving it as often as I can?

PRAY: O God, expand my capacity for gratitude and deepen my sense of awe for the Eucharist. 

ACT: Today, I will read something on the Eucharist to broaden my knowledge and appreciation of it.