Easter Wednesday Reflection
Easter Wednesday
LK 24:13-35
Now that very day two of them 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 Nazarene, 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 Messiah 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 the bread.
Reflection
Have you ever been to mass in a language you didn’t understand? A few years ago, some friends and I stayed with a Catholic community in Beijing. On the first Sunday of our trip we went to mass and it was the first time I had attended in a language I was completely unfamiliar with. I felt so lost, especially during the readings and homily. I could kind of get a sense of where we were during the mass, but then, that moment of consecration was unmistakable: the gestures of the priest, the elevation of the host.
It was Him.
Language didn’t matter. The fact that I missed the message of the priest and the readings of the day didn’t matter. He was there for me, making Himself present for me at that moment. All of a sudden my eyes were open in a new way to the great mystery that is the Eucharist. In every mass, Jesus meets us in our reality to encounter us intimately. Every day, all over the world, Jesus comes to us in the breaking of the bread. The same Jesus who rose from the dead truly meets us on the altar.
“[H]e was made known to them in the breaking of the bread.” Jesus walks with these two men, talks with them, breaks open the scriptures, and yet, they do not recognize him until the breaking of the bread. I often have this experience at mass, even when it’s in a language I understand. I try to be present to the readings, the prayers, the songs, but at times I get lost in my head, or I get distracted by a cute baby a few rows ahead, or, more likely, I’m trying to manage my own children. I can sometimes forget why I’m even there.
At every mass my attention is drawn back to the person of Christ when the priest lifts the Host and says the beautiful words, “Take this all of you and eat of it, for this is my body that is given up for you.” When those words are said, I feel like the disciples in the story; it’s like my whole body is woken up to the reality of what’s going on and who is becoming present to me: Jesus. The risen Jesus, fully present in the Eucharist, is with me. With all of us.
The source and summit of our entire faith is wrapped up in this mystery. A mystery that gives us the opportunity every Sunday — and more often if we want — to be woken up to the reality that God is with us. He longs to reawaken all our senses to the reality of his love, to see him, taste him, and feel him in the Eucharist.
The moment wakes me up every time, no matter what I’m experiencing or living right before and no matter what happens after. At that moment I get a taste of eternity. Heaven meets me in a real way, the body and blood of Jesus. This reality is what gives me hope and what grounds me. He always comes. He always has and always will. I can count on Him to come into whatever the state of my life is, even when I’m not paying attention.
Take time today to reflect on the great gift Jesus gives us in the Eucharist and go to mass or visit Him in the tabernacle at a local Church if you can. He is there and wants to raise you up.
