Third Sunday of Easter A

May 8, 2011

Reading I: Acts 2:14, 22-33

Responsorial Psalm: 16:1-2, 5, 7-11

Reading II: 1 Peter 1:17-21

Gospel: Luke 24:13-15


On the road to Emmaus


Two of the disciples of Jesus were on their way to a village called Emmaus, seven miles from Jerusalem, and they were talking together about all that had happened. Now as they talked this over, Jesus himself came up and walked by their side; but something prevented them from recognising him. He said to them, 'What matters are you discussing as you walk along?' They stopped short, their faces downcast.

Then one of them, called Cleopas, answered him, 'You must be the only person staying in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have been happening there these last few days'. 'What things?' he asked. 'All about Jesus of Nazareth' they answered 'who proved he was a great prophet by the things he said and did in the sight of God and of the whole people; and how our chief priests and our leaders handed him over to be sentenced to death, and had him crucified. Our own hope had been that he would be the one to set Israel free. And this is not all: two whole days have gone by since it all happened; and some women from our group have astounded us: they went to the tomb in the early morning, and when they did not find the body, they came back to tell us they had seen a vision of angels who declared he was alive. Some of our friends went to the tomb and found everything exactly as the women had reported, but of him they saw nothing.'

Then he 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 the village to which they were going, he 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. Now while he was with them at table, he took the bread and said the blessing; then he broke it and handed it to them. And their eyes were opened and they recognised 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?'
They set out that instant and returned to Jerusalem. There they found the Eleven assembled together with their companions, who said to them, 'Yes, it is true. The Lord has risen and has appeared to Simon.' Then they told their story of what had happened on the road and how they had recognised him at the breaking of bread.
(Jerusalem Bible)


This gospel story is especially attractive, perhaps because we can identify with the two disciples, confused, puzzled, disillusioned, questioning. Only one is named, and he is not a key player in the gospels: the two stand for 'everyone'. Like so much of the gospels the narrative is tightly structured, imparting lessons at many levels.

I like to treat the story as an allegory where each element can have a meaning in its own right. Thus, the two disciples are traveling to a village seven miles away - is this 'seven', which is the favourite number of mysticism, intended to suggest that we are talking about the mystical journey that everyone travels?

The disciples are out on the road, not hiding behind locked doors; they are two together, sharing their thoughts, going over the events as people do, in an effort to make sense of what had occurred. The stranger comes along and wants to join their discussion. They are surprised he does not know what has happened in the past week in Jerusalem. 'What things?' he bluntly asks. (Is our world, estranged from its tired religious traditions, asking bluntly of us: What things?) The summary that follows vibrates with passionate intensity.

'All about Jesus of Nazareth' they answered 'who proved he was a great prophet by the things he said and did in the sight of God and of the whole people; and how our chief priests and our leaders handed him over to be sentenced to death, and had him crucified. Our own hope had been that he would be the one to set Israel free. And this is not all: two whole days have gone by since it all happened; and some women from our group have astounded us: they went to the tomb in the early morning, and when they did not find the body, they came back to tell us they had seen a vision of angels who declared he was alive. Some of our friends went to the tomb and found everything exactly as the women had reported, but of him they saw nothing.'

Our own hope had been...' There is a great ferment in the christian community at the present time resonating with this same passion. Many faith-filled christians agonise in disappointment and feel betrayed. Two thousand years removed from these two disciples and the events they told the stranger of, our own hope had been that the church would show us the way to follow Christ. But it has become a countersign. Like the pharisees it does not practice what it preaches. It crucifies its own prophets and oppresses the people it should be liberating. Its leaders indulge in displays of luxury and arrogance, and speak a strange language that confuses ordinary people. A culture of secrecy encourages deception and darkness covers lies.

'Was it not ordained that the Christ should suffer and so enter into his glory?'

Are we the foolish ones, slow to believe the full message? Do the disciples of Jesus imagine that it is ordained that they should not suffer, so to enter into 'glory'? This present fight within the church is necessary, never mind how painful it might get. We imagine that we're lucky to live in an age when physical torture is no longer practised. (Don't be too sure about that!) On the other hand, with the development in communications, mental and moral suffering can be infinitely more intense than before. The whole world can know of your humiliation, and if in your confusion and shame you say one word out of place it will be instantly broadcast and used to double-damn you.

In fact it takes great courage today to be a martyr (witness) for the cause of truth. It means you have to speak the truth in the face of those who would shut you up. And they can so easily make you look a fool, and treat you as a fool. Lies are rumoured abroad to corrode your good name even among your family and friends, all because you dared to simply voice the truth.


There are a couple of basic elements to be noticed in this summary: It was 'our chief priests and our leaders' who handed him over, and it was 'some women from our group [who] have astonished us: they went to the tomb in the early morning...'. It is hard not to see some pointers here. Clearly chief priests and leaders are not to be trusted merely for their titles; on the other hand, the first witnesses to the resurrection itself were the women who were out early in the morning - and they are named in vs.10: The women were Mary of Magdala, Joanna, and Mary the mother of James. And the other women with them also told the apostles... Also we might notice that all this happened on that first day of the week, so they were very busy, those two disciples on the road to Emmaus. Some say they were totally disillusioned and getting out as quick as they could; others say they were running away already. Perhaps they were just ordinary people who wanted to go to Emmaus. They were greatly disappointment, but in their hearts they almost dared to believe, if only it might be true.

Some further ideas: These two disciples are on the road, two by two, as Jesus had instructed them. Why two by two? Because it allows for conversation, for discussion. [I am going out on a limb here.] Buddhism requires the learner to find a teacher; Jesus, it seems, simply wanted his disciples to share with one another - and he would be there with them, offering enlightenment (understanding) in the light of the Scriptures. I wonder is it valid to make this distinction between the way of the Buddha and the way of Jesus. I am not suggesting that teachers, guides, or 'spiritual directors' are not important, but it seems to me that to follow the way of Christ is to walk the ordinary road and if we are prepared to welcome a stranger (an 'other') and listen to him, Jesus will be there with us. In the real world not many will ever have the luxury of a wise and competent personal guide in their spiritual life. Enough perhaps that everyone be in real communion with someone else - like a marriage partner, a friend, or just a member of a discussion group, and open to the Spirit in faith.

They are open to learning from a stranger - one who was so out of touch that he had not heard of the things that had happened in Jerusalem this past week. According to the story they did not recognise Jesus in this stranger. There is an extraordinary willingness to learn from someone who seemed so out of touch. But they did listen and learn. How we wish the story contained some examples of what Jesus explained, but there is nothing. Only this message: do the work yourselves, puzzle out the meanings, discuss your ideas, and you will get strong enough together to look the truth in the face and believe/trust it.

We identify with their puzzlement as we still discuss the meaning of the Christ and of the scriptures that hold the key. If we also invite the stranger to stay with us, to share companionship in a meal (or a cup of coffee), we also will recognise the Lord in the breaking of bread.

Tony Lawless


Commentaries on the Sunday readings are easy to find in the Internet. The series provided by the St Louis University is very good for both scholarship and pastoral application. LINK