This weekend’s Gospel has some surprises for the disciples going to Emmaus. The first is that Luke tells us Jesus appeared to them, “but their eyes were prevented from recognizing him” (Luke 24:16). Jesus wasn’t wearing glasses like Clark Kent. More likely, they were prevented by their lack of faith. They knew that Jesus had died, so this man who looked familiar couldn’t be him. All they had heard was that Jesus’ body was missing from the tomb. Luke says they were debating, as if they couldn’t decide what to believe.

That leads to the second point. No, they were not surprised that the “stranger” could quote Scripture. Most Jewish men were familiar with the scriptures, but they were amazed at how Jesus explained the scriptures. Even the disciples had not thought of them as predicting Jesus’ suffering and death. Yet they seem to know the truth of what Jesus was saying. Their hearts were burning with the fire of the Holy Spirit, who helped them to understand the new meaning of Scripture. Their story can help us, too.

If you find you are not always able to see Jesus in the people or events of your life, you may need to stretch your faith. One way to do that is to discuss it with others. The two disciples were stretching their faith as they discussed what they had heard. Even better, debate it with someone who doesn’t believe. (Remember to keep it friendly.) You may not convince them to change, but your faith will grow as you learn to express it. Another way to stretch your faith is to read and pray over the scriptures. Ask what God is trying to tell you in them. The disciples on the way to Emmaus began to see how Jesus fulfilled the promises found there. Passages that may have been mysterious before began to become clear when applied to Jesus.

Ask God to help you see Jesus in other people. Receive Jesus in Communion as often as you can (at least once a week). Trust him and expect to see Jesus both in the people around you and in the changes that come into your life. The more you look for Jesus, the easier it is to see him.               -Tom Schmidt, Diocesan Publications

---

TREASURES FROM OUR TRADITION
THIRD SUNDAY OF EASTER   

“Mystagogy,” reflection on the Easter mysteries, is the chief task of these great fifty days, a “pentecost,” in other words, of grace and renewal. Every Sunday we have accounts of Resurrection appearances of the Lord, and sketches of the earliest efforts at being church.

Lent is described as a journey to the font, and Easter may be described in similar terms, since at the very beginning an angel tells the apostles that the Risen Lord “has gone before you into Galilee.” Galilee, of course, was the place where Jesus did his finest work, his preaching, his healing, his gathering the lost and the marginalized to the table. At Easter, we hurry to catch up, putting our renewed baptismal promises to work in our own personal Galilees, our little worlds waiting for a word of grace, a healing, an act of pardon, an invitation to share a meal. The water often splashed on our Sunday assemblies in Eastertide reminds us: these are the golden, shining days of grace, days to nurture the heart, to speak to one another about things that really matter.            —Rev. James Field, Diocesan Publications

---

SAINT ANSELM (1033-1109) – April 21

For anyone disheartened at how easily contemporary discussions of disputed Church-State issues escalate from civil discourse to shrill polemic, Anselm provides perspective. Grounded in the Benedictine Rule’s balanced “prayer and work,” this monk-scholar, called from his Abbey to become Archbishop of Canterbury, was thrust into firestorms of political intrigue, himself the target of warring bishops and nobles, kings and popes. Yet from depths of inner peace, Anselm wrote this moving exhortation by which today’s Liturgy of the Hours celebrates him: “Rise up, insignificant man! From your preoccupations, flee a while. From your turbulent thoughts, hide for a time. Your crushing responsibilities cast aside. Your burdensome business lay down. Free a little space for God. Rest a little while in him!” “Faith seeking understanding” was his strikingly contemporary motto; and though renowned as an erudite philosopher-theologian, Anselm also left personal letters, profound for their insights on Christian friendship. Along with those, he composed “A Prayer for My Friends” and “A Prayer for My Enemies,” reminding us that those who love God most passionately are also those who love others most humanly.              —Peter Scagnelli, Diocesan Publications