Ever since I can remember, I have
been interested in building things, fixing things, and learning how stuff works.
As a result, tools have fascinated me since I was a kid. Between 5th
and 8th grade, I would beg my parents to take me to the hardware
store at least once a week. When I would enter this splendid shrine dedicated
to hand tools, power tools, and other hardware accessories, I would take a deep
breath and then slowly proceed down every single aisle, looking at the newest
innovations, dreaming of the day when I could afford something as glorious as
an air compressor, a nail gun, or a table saw. But it didn’t stop there. Every
time my birthday or Christmas rolled around and I was asked what I would like,
I just said: “more tools.” I received screwdrivers, pliers, wrenches, tape
measures, hammers, handsaws, and occasionally, if I behaved and promised to be
careful, a coveted power tool.
I was in the height of this
“building” stage, when my twelfth birthday rolled around. After blowing out
twelve candles and smiling through “happy birthday,” I was eagerly anticipating
the newest addition to my workbench. My parents presented me with a small box,
about this size, which was somewhat heavy. I just knew that it had to be some new drill bits and maybe even jigsaw
blades. I was so excited; I ripped right through the wrapping paper and that’s
when I saw them. My mouth dropped and I just stared at my parents in disbelief.
My expression was a strange mixture of confusion, betrayal, and anger. Inside
the box was not a tool, or drill
bits, or saw blades. Instead there were four books, by
J.R.R. Tolkien, which were the classic Hobbit
and Lord of the Rings.
These were really nice books and it was a thoughtful
gift from my parents. But I didn’t like them and I wouldn’t read them for seven
years (!!!!) because they weren’t what I was hoping for. Because I had set my
expectations on something else, I wasn’t able to see the goodness of their
gift! I was blind to what the Lord of the
Rings had to offer me because I had made up my mind on what my gift should
have looked like.
We see something similar in the gospel today. Two of
the disciples are on the road to Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem. The
gospel tells us they were downcast and debating about the life and death of
Christ. Jesus approaches them, but they do not recognize him. You can hear the
frustration, dejection and confusion in their voices as they speak with this
“stranger” on the road to Emmaus. These disciples were hurt and confused. They
had such great expectations for Jesus; they had such high hopes for him but
then he was crucified and all seemed lost.
During the entire walk of seven miles, the two
disciples do not recognize Jesus next to them. Even after he explains the
scriptures, they cannot see that this is the Lord. How can this be? Why were they
so blind? The disciples are unable to see Jesus walking with them because of
their own expectations of how his
life should have played out. For them, it didn’t seem possible that the Messiah
could redeem the world if he died. Their assumptions made them blind to the
wisdom of God. It is not until the breaking of the bread that they recognize Jesus
and begin to understand.
Doesn't this happen to us? Throughout our lives, we
find ourselves on the road to Emmaus, just like the two disciples. There are times when we are downcast,
confused, disappointed, angry, hurt, you name it… because we expected one thing
from God but got something entirely
different. Perhaps it's the death of a loved one, a personal affliction or
illness, difficulties at work or home. These hardships challenge the way we
think of God; they can make us feel alone and abandoned. Because of our own
expectations of God, we can be blind to the fact that he is walking right
alongside us in our time of difficulty. We often have our own ideas of how God
should act and what the plans for our lives should look like. When those don’t
work out, it can cause us great distress, disappointment, and even anger.
It's important
to learn from our gospel today. Even in the darkest moments of our lives we
should not despair; we should not give up. Christ is always walking alongside us during these moments but we may not
recognize him right away. Like the disciples, we may walk quite a distance down
our road of difficulty before we recognize the presence of Christ. And
this healing, calming presence of our Lord may
be found where we least expect it: in the kind words of a stranger, in the
beauty of fine spring day, or the smile of a friend or family member.
Finally, we can see our time here at
Mass each week as our own journey to Emmaus. Here in this first part of the
liturgy, we can bring all those things we have on our minds and present them to
God. Here we have the Word of God, which is opened up and explained to us as it
pertains to Christ. Jesus is working in these readings each and every
week to show us how they point to him and his saving message.
But Jesus doesn’t stop at explaining the scriptures.
In a few minutes he will become present in the breaking of the bread here at
the altar. It was this breaking of the bread that opened the eyes of the
disciples and helped them to recognize the risen Christ in their midst who
walked with them during their journey to Emmaus. He does the same thing for us.
He wants our eyes to be opened, so we can see him working in each and every situation of our lives.
He wants us to let go of our own expectations of God so we can believe and trust completely in his plan of salvation for us.
My prayer is that we approach this Eucharist with
the eyes of faith, a faith which sees Jesus walking alongside us, each and
every step of our journey on earth. May we be a people who recognize the presence
of Christ here in the breaking of the bread. May we, like the disciples, say to
one another as we leave this church: Were not our hearts burning within us while he spoke
to us on the way and opened the Scriptures to us?”
