"When will they realize who is in their midst?
When will WE realize who is in OUR midst?!"

I think Rod Serling and Alfred Hitchcock would have enjoyed today’s gospel story about the two disciples who met the risen Christ on the road to Emmaus. That’s because this story has a certain "suspense" about it--and those two men both enjoyed suspenseful stories.

The suspense centers around one issue which can be expressed in the form of a question: When will they realize who it is? When will these two disciples finally realize who it is who is walking and talking with them? Will it ever happen? Or will Jesus just leave them without ever making himself known?

The tension starts right at the beginning. We find out that these are two disciples of Jesus, who are "conversing about all the things that had occurred" during the previous few days. So immediately we feel sympathy for them. After all, they were disciples--close followers of Jesus--men who had put their all their hopes in our Lord. But those hopes were seemingly crushed on the previous Friday, when Jesus was crucified. Then, all of a sudden--seemingly out of nowhere--Jesus appears and begins to walk with them, and we immediately think to ourselves: "Great! Now they’ll realize that everything’s all right! Now they’ll realize that he’s been raised from the dead! Now they can be at peace." But, unfortunately, they don’t recognize him--which is what gives birth to the suspense. Now why didn’t they immediately know who it was? That’s an issue that troubles many people. Was it because they had short memories and couldn’t remember what Jesus looked like three days before? No, not at all. They probably didn’t recognize him because our Lord’s body looked a lot different in its glorified state. Yes, it was the same body he had before the crucifixion, but something about it appeared to be different. Very mysterious, to say the least. This is something that we’ll probably never understand fully until we get our own resurrected bodies at the end of time.

And so the two disciples and Jesus begin a lengthy, deep conversation. And through it all the suspense continues to build, and we keep asking ourselves that ever present question: "When will they finally realize who it is? C’mon guys, can’t you figure it out yet? What’s taking you so long?"

The climax comes when they’re at table at the end of the day. St. Luke tells us that at that point Jesus "took bread, said the blessing, broke it and gave it to them." This, of course, was exactly what our Lord had done at the Last Supper. The disciples realize that--they realize that Jesus is consecrating the Eucharist for them just as he had done for his apostles a few nights earlier, and their eyes are finally opened. The suspense, at long last, is over, and Jesus vanishes from their sight.

This changed everything for these two disciples. That’s such an important fact to note. When they finally realized who it was who was in their midst, it changed their mood, it changed their attitude--I dare say it changed their whole perspective on life. They were no longer depressed and confused. They were now joyful and anxious to tell everyone the good news. And they began by immediately running off to the upper room and telling the eleven apostles and the others who were there with them.

There’s a very practical lesson here for all of us. At first, these two disciples did not realize who was in their midst. That was their problem--and that, believe it or not, is our problem. In fact, it’s really the fundamental problem of human life. It’s the reason the world’s in the mess that it’s in at the present time. Mother Teresa used to describe the poor and suffering people she ministered to as "Jesus Christ, in distressing disguise." Now there was a woman who always understood who was in her midst! In other words, she understood that the image of Jesus was mysteriously present in every single human person--and she treated them accordingly. How easy it is for us to forget that or to ignore that fact--especially when we’re dealing with people who have hurt us or who don’t like us. But what a different world it would be if we could all get and keep this supernatural perspective that Mother Teresa and all the saints had.

If Slobodan Milosevic, for example, saw the ethnic Albanians in this light, he would certainly not be trying to exterminate them. If Hitler had looked at the Jews in this way, there would have been no Holocaust. If more people would see unborn children in this light, abortion would end. If Dr. Kevorkian and others like him would try to see the image of Jesus present in the sick and suffering, they would try to ease their pain instead of helping them to murder themselves.

Let’s face it--if everyone truly realized who was in their midst, sin would be a thing of the past. There would be no violence, no racism, no sexual immorality--no pre-marital or extra-marital sex, no pornography, no dishonesty. Because instead of treating others like objects for our own selfish gain and pleasure, we would all begin to treat others with respect--realizing that they are human beings created in the Lord’s image.

Well, we can’t instantaneously change everyone’s perspective in this regard, but we can certainly make the daily effort to change our own, and that will help in a small but real way to change the world. And how can we begin to be more aware of the Lord’s presence in others? Well, one way is by taking Mass seriously. After, all, that’s what did it for the two disciples in today’s gospel. They became aware of who was in their midst because they entered deeply into the Mass that Jesus began to celebrate for them on the road to Emmaus. No, St. Luke doesn’t call their experience a Mass, but that’s exactly what it was. Every Mass has two parts: the Liturgy of the Word, and the Liturgy of the Eucharist. Jesus celebrated a Liturgy of the Word for these men as they walked those many miles to Emmaus. He quoted from the Scriptures, and gave them a long, long, long homily--far longer than anything you’ll ever get from Fr. Ray (so count your blessings!). And it’s obvious that they were not daydreaming when this was happening; they weren’t looking at their watches (or should I say sundials). They were attentive, they were all ears. As they later said, their hearts were "burning" inside them. And then, when they sat down at table, Jesus completed the Mass by celebrating the Liturgy of the Eucharist. And please notice--neither one of these disciples ran out before it was over.