Were not our hearts burning . . .?

CARAVAGGIO
Supper at Emmaus
1601

Were not our hearts burning . . .?

Our Lord is always present, but he is not always present to us. Like the gentlemen on the road to Emmaus, we are often so handicapped by our myopic view of the world that we “miss” him, even as he walks by our side. As we read the scripture we wonder how it is possible that they did not recognize Jesus until he was in the familiar context of breaking the bread and giving blessing. Was our Lord playing tricks on them? Or were their hearts simply screened by shutters of their own making?

Consider the observations of these men after they recognized Jesus for who he was. Certainly they were amazed to see someone they never truly expected to see – a dead man, their Lord and Master, now alive. But they also noted that their hearts were burning within them as he spoke to them of scripture; revealing to them all of salvation history as it pointed to him. And wasn’t this the same feeling they experienced when they gathered at the feet of Jesus while he taught them? At the breaking of the bread and the blessing the scales fell from their eyes and the presence and divinity of Christ sat there before them . . . and the puzzle was solved as the last piece fell into place.

Many of us might exclaim, “If only that would happen to me!” We long to look into the face of our Lord or even just to grasp his feet that we might contain him and have him fully within our reality. Surely we can relate to the thoughts and emotions of these gentlemen as they journeyed away from Jerusalem on the way to Emmaus. But have we not already been gifted with his real presence?

Sometimes does not your heart burn when you hear the Word of God proclaimed at the Mass? This is truly the presence of the Word, our Lord, as he speaks to each one of us personally and individually, guiding us along the path he intends for us. It is for each one of us to listen carefully with our hearts, knowing and believing that he is in our presence just as his presence is real moments later upon the altar. What an infinite gift it is that we can, indeed, sit at his feet as he teaches, take in his wisdom and love, partake in the breaking of the bread and then truthfully take him into ourselves.

The gentlemen at Emmaus experienced all of this as well and rushed off with great joy to tell all the others. Let us look and listen faithfully as we celebrate the Eucharist that the scales may drop from our eyes and that our ears and hearts may be opened so that we too will experience the joy of the Risen Christ such that we are impelled to rush out to tell the others.