There is a deep human experience that runs through today’s readings: the pain of absence. The beloved is no longer seen, no longer touched, and the heart aches with longing. Like the bride in the Song of Songs who searches through the night for the one she loves, so too the disciples experience the anguish of loss. Mary Magdalene weeps, “They have taken away my Lord” (Jn 20:13). The disciples on the road to Emmaus walk away from Jerusalem with heavy hearts, convinced that their hopes have died with Jesus.
This is not only their story—it is ours. There are moments when God seems absent, when faith feels empty, when prayer echoes back in silence. The community of believers can sometimes resemble those early disciples: disoriented, discouraged, and unable to recognize the presence of the One who promised never to leave.
On the road to Emmaus, the Risen Lord draws near and walks with the two disciples. But they do not recognize him. They know the story of Jesus up to his death, but they have not yet embraced the mystery of the Resurrection. Without faith in the Risen Lord, even the most accurate knowledge of Jesus leads only to sadness.
How often does this happen in our own lives? We may know the teachings of Christ, admire his example, and yet live as though death has the final word. But the Lord does not abandon those who walk away. He meets them precisely on that road of confusion and disappointment.
The turning point comes in two moments that are deeply familiar to us: the opening of the Scriptures and the breaking of the bread. The Scriptures, once obscure, now reveal a new meaning: that suffering and death are not the end, but the path to glory. Then, at table, in the simple gesture of blessing, breaking, and sharing bread, their eyes are opened. They recognise him.
St. Luke is showing us where the Risen Christ is to be found today: in the Word proclaimed and in the Eucharist celebrated. Every Sunday, we gather with our questions and burdens; we listen to the Scriptures; we share in the breaking of the bread. And there, if our hearts are open, we encounter the living Lord.
Yet recognition is never the end of the story. The moment the disciples recognize Jesus, they rise and return to Jerusalem. The journey of sadness becomes a mission of joy. They go back to the community they had left, to proclaim: “The Lord is truly risen!”
This is the mark of authentic encounter with Christ—it sends us forth. We cannot keep the experience to ourselves. Like Mary Magdalene, like the disciples of Emmaus, we become witnesses.
Today, we are invited to ask ourselves: Do I allow his Word to set my heart on fire? Do I recognize him in the Eucharist?
If we open our eyes in faith, we will discover that the One we thought absent has been walking beside us all along. And with renewed hearts, we too will rise and proclaim: The Lord is truly risen.
Father Josekutty Mathew CMF
