And, this very weekend, the Gospel prescribed for Sunday Mass is the profoundly moving incident (Luke 24: 13-35) of the disciples on the road to Emmaus, who on the day of Jesus’ resurrection encounter a “stranger” who helps them understand that Jesus had to suffer and die so as to carry out the work of human salvation. Their conversation leads to the sharing of an evening meal, at which the “stranger” breaks bread. With this action, the two recognize that the stranger is Jesus, who then vanishes. A commentary asks whether Jesus’ disappearance is to emphasize that his “appearance is hardly necessary when one has his presence in the Eucharist?”
This week I am attending the National Workshop on Christian Unity. If this year’s workshop follows a practice of last year, I will very likely be attending an Episcopal and a Lutheran eucharistic celebration, as well as a Catholic Mass. As of last year, the organizers of the workshop began to encourage the participants to attend one another’s eucharistic liturgies, in order to witness together to the pain of not being able to gather and partake at one eucharistic table.
When we consider that it is not thought possible at this time to have one Eucharist for all Christians, we may be inclined to reply that we need to ignore such reservations and proceed to a common altar anyway.
When we are told that something we are looking forward to cannot be provided, the one delivering the disappointing news is often moved to say, “It’s nothing personal.” In the case of the holy Eucharist, however, everything is personal. First of all there is the personal gift of Jesus himself. From his incarnation to his submitting to death for our sake, he has made himself the slave of humanity in the most personal way possible.
Then there is the living reality of the sacrament of the Eucharist as it is handed down from generation to generation. As disputes have flared up over the centuries about what it means to be a Christian, communion has been disrupted, yet Jesus’ presence as the principle of union has remained with us.
The longing for Christian unity is a matter of the heart as well as of the mind. The disciples on the road to Emmaus spoke of their hearts “burning within us” as their experience of confusion about Jesus’ death became healed by a fuller appreciation of the Scriptures. Every Christian must carry within his or her heart the pain of the brokenness of Christianity, and must unite individual yearning with a collective yearning for the healing of the Body of Christ. Our partaking of the Body and Blood of Christ must lead us to a hunger and thirst as urgent as the disciples’ cry to the stranger, “Stay with us.” We are confused and torn apart.
Let us be enthusiastic companions on the road to full communion.
