Dear Friends,
I have just returned from my annual retreat – a week of prayer, silence, time alone with God. A week always seems too short when it comes to a retreat. Just as I am getting into the rhythms of prayer, the week is over. I suppose it is a good thing that I want to spend more time with God at the end of the retreat. Maybe it is the Holy Spirit encouraging me to deepen my prayer when I have returned home so that what I practice on retreat becomes a regular part of my life.
This weekend, the Catholic Church all over the world remembers people who lived lives of holiness but have not been named saints in the calendar and all deceased loved ones in the prayers for All Souls Day. Remembering loved ones who have died may cause us to be sad, but Pope Leo recently reminded us that the experience of Jesus’ resurrection should cause us to put sadness behind us and bring us to joy.
Pope Leo teaches; Christ’s resurrection can heal one of the malaises of our time: sadness. Intrusive and widespread, sadness accompanies the days of many people. It is a feeling of precariousness, at times profound desperation, which invades one’s inner space and seems to prevail over any impetus to joy. Sadness robs life of meaning and vigor, turning it into a directionless and meaningless journey. This very current experience reminds us of the famous account in the Gospel of Luke of the two disciples of Emmaus. Disappointed and discouraged, they leave Jerusalem, leaving behind the hopes they held in Jesus, who has been crucified and entombed. In the opening lines, this episode presents a paradigm of human sadness: the end of the objective to which so much energy has been invested, the destruction of what seemed to be the essence of their lives. Their hope is dashed; desolation has taken hold of their hearts. Everything has imploded in a very short space of time, between Friday and Saturday, in a dramatic sequence of events.
The paradox is truly emblematic: this sad journey of defeat and return to ordinary life occurs on the same day as the victory of light, of the Pasch that has been fully consummated. The two men turn their backs on Golgotha, on the terrible scene of the cross, still imprinted on their eyes and their hearts. It seems that all is lost. They must return to their former lives, keeping a low profile and hoping not to be recognized. At a certain point, a traveler joins the two disciples, perhaps one of the many pilgrims who have been to Jerusalem for Passover. It is the risen Jesus, but they do not recognize him. Sadness clouds their gaze, erasing the promise that the Master had made several times: that he would be killed and that on the third day he would rise again. The stranger approaches and shows interest in what they are saying. The text says that the two “stood still, looking sad”. The Greek adjective used describes an all-encompassing sadness: the paralysis of the soul is apparent on their faces.
Jesus listens to them, allowing them to unburden their disappointment. Then, with great frankness, he rebukes them for being “foolish … and slow of heart to believe that all the prophets have declared!” and through the Scriptures he shows that Christ had to suffer, die and rise again. The warmth of hope is rekindled in the hearts of the two disciples, and then, when night falls and they arrive at their destination, they invite their mysterious travelling companion to stay with them.
Jesus accepts and takes his seat at the table with them. Then he takes the bread, breaks it and offers it. At that moment, the two disciples recognize him… but he immediately disappears from their view. The gesture of the breaking of the bread reopens the eyes of the heart, illuminating once again the vision clouded by despair. And then everything becomes clear: the shared journey, the tender and powerful word, the light of truth… Immediately, joy is rekindled, energy flows back into their weary limbs, and gratitude returns to their memory. And the two hurry back to Jerusalem to tell the others everything.
“The Lord has risen indeed.” In this adverb, indeed, the certain outcome of our history as human beings is fulfilled. It is no coincidence that this is the greeting Christians exchange on Easter Day. Jesus did not rise in words, but in deeds, with his body bearing the marks of his passion, a perennial seal of his love for us. The victory of life is not an empty word, but a real, tangible fact.
May the unexpected joy of the disciples of Emmaus be a gentle reminder to us when the going gets tough. It is the Risen One who radically changes our perspective, instilling the hope that fills the void of sadness. On the paths of the heart, the Risen One walks with us and for us. He bears witness to the defeat of death and affirms the victory of life, despite the darkness of Calvary. History still has much goodness to hope for.
To recognize the Resurrection means to change one’s outlook on the world: to return to the light to recognize the Truth that saves us. Sisters and brothers, let us remain watchful every day in the wonder of the Pasch of the risen Jesus. He alone makes the impossible possible!
Peace,
Fr. Damian