On the road

It began uneventfully enough, the first day of May–the customary prayers, a short constitutional, a sparse but otherwise delightful breakfast. Since we expected our son and his family to join us for lunch, the wife and I repaired to a mall in the neighborhood for additional supplies, an occasion for me to check with a shop there if the jackets I had delivered for repair were done. And here began the series of annoyances that would mar the morning. The jackets were not done and work on them had not even begun despite the fact that they were to be picked up in two days.

The wife, who was getting ice cubes, encountered a similar situation. Someone from the Ice Age elbowed her away between the wife and the freezer. But for the grace of God, we would have given the ones concerned a pointed piece of our mind. Later we talked about it and, throwing up our hands, we agreed that this happens all the time. Even during Holy Communion, and not just during occasions that draw in huge crowds, such as the feast of the Sto. Niño.  And yet, because of the nature of the activity–queuing up to receive the Body of Christ, we do not give much thought to being, and even yield to those who cause us to be, cut off from the line.

Aha, I said, what if we consider doing an act, any act, as sort of a lining-up for Holy Communion? We would then peacefully bear the irritations, the sufferings that come our way, because of the prospect of partaking of the host, of physically receiving and being nourished by the Body of Christ.

The two disciples that Luke writes about, who were on their way to the village of Emmaus, were in effect walking towards the Eucharist, which  the risen Lord would celebrate with them at the end of their journey.

They were talking about what had happened in Jerusalem when Jesus, unrecognized by them, walked by their side and asked them, “What matters are you discussing as you walk along?”

One of them, Cleopas, said, “You must be the only person staying in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have been happening there these last few days.”

They went on to narrate about Jesus of Nazareth, “who proved he was a great prophet by the things he said and did in the sight of God and of the whole people,” how the chief priests and leaders handed him over to be sentenced to death, and had him crucified, and how after two days some women went to the tomb in the early morning and did not find the body, and instead saw a vision of angels who declared that he was alive, which some of their friends who went to the tomb found exactly as the women had reported, but saw nothing of Jesus.

Jesus said to them, “You foolish men! So slow to believe the full message of the prophets! Was it not ordained that the Christ should suffer and so enter into his glory?” Then, starting with Moses and going through all the prophets, he explained to them the passages throughout the scriptures that were about himself.

When they drew near to Emmaus, Jesus made as if to go on; but they pressed him to stay with them. “It is nearly evening,” they said, “and the day is almost over.” So he went in to stay with them.

While he was with them at table, he took the bread and said the blessing, then broke it and handed it to them. At this moment their eyes were opened and they recognized him; but he had vanished from their sight. Then they said to each other, “Did not our hearts burn within us as he talked to us on the road and explained the scriptures to us?”

No journey is without its burdens, whether carried from the start or picked up along the way. The inner, unseen loads are the heavier ones. The disciples were downcast, weighed down with grief over losing someone whom they had hoped would liberate Israel, and who died in abject circumstances. Adding to their confusion were reports of Jesus’ missing body and the women’s claim of seeing visions of angels who declared that he was alive.

As they approached Emmaus, they  felt light (their hearts were burning) as Jesus explained to them how the prophecies were fulfilled in his death and resurrection, and at last revealed himself to the disciples at table when he took, blessed, broke and handed the bread to them.

Each day unfolds with its vexations, as well as its delights, which last, the best of them, being reserved for the end, at the Mass–union with The Lord, the taking of the Body of Christ in Holy Communion, the prospect of which should be motivation enough to meet the day’s every adversity with patience and joy.

The promise of Emmaus abates every Calvary experience.