The Way to Emmaus

The Way to Emmaus

Susan Heffron Hajec 3-31-18

How many times, Lord
have I walked
the road to Emmaus
like your disciples?
Distraught over what
has happened.
Afraid of what lies
before me.
Confused that things
didn’t work out
as I planned.

Many times, I
must confess,
many times.
How can I so
easily forget
It is you, yourself
who told me—
“Behold, I Am
with you always.”

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If I Had Been There

“If I had been there, Jesus, I would have helped you. I would have told those soldiers you did nothing wrong. I would have demanded Pilate to let you go. I would have wiped Mary’s tears and I would have helped you carry your cross.” But I was not there. I am only remembering what happened over 2,000 years ago.”

Our nine year old granddaughter read words like these during the Living Stations of the Cross elementary school drama on Good Friday.

This morning, we awake to Holy Saturday. All is quiet after the tumult, suffering and despair of the last two days. As redeeming as the wondrous feast of Easter Sunday is with its uplifting power to wandering souls, Holy Saturday is the day that gives me pause and brings mindfulness to me spread over the day as to what exactly did happen on the day before.

God or man? Jesus, who had been among the Jews and Gentiles peacefully and with a message of total love and forgiveness has been put to death in the most cruel way ever devised by mankind.

“Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

 

Now morning has broken. Now, Mary, Peter, John,  Mary Magdalene and the crowds who followed him, saw his miracles, listened to his message and heard his promise of life everlasting must be stunned. Mary, turning over in her heart that this is the babe she bore who was the Promised One. Peter, left to lead his flock. John, his beloved, torn in grief and loss.  Others ripped apart by the shear terror and killing spirit of the Roman soldiers and powers to be, along with the religious hierarchy who were threatened by his words and his presence.

But they must have been thinking, this could not be. He has left. He has abandoned us and he told us he would not do that.

Hush quiet. There must be something we do not know. There must be strength coming from someplace we do not know. For we have none. We are broken and invisibly crucified with him. We do not know the way. We do not see the light.

We have tended and cleaned his tender, beaten body. we have wrapped him in a clean linen, we have laid him in the tomb. Our tears as well as the large stone rolled in front of the sacred space seal it closed.

Closed. Put apart from. Abandoned. Alone. Loss. Confusion. Anguish. Lacking the ability to go on. Afraid of the authorities. We followed him. They will come after us. We will hide.

Until…….he walks with us again.

And that won’t be very long from now. But for today, Holy Saturday, we do not know that.

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